Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“Seamus,” my mother said, but she went silent when he flashed her a sharp look.
My throat tightened. “Ye can’t be serious.”
Lifting an arm, he pointed toward the front door. “I won’t have ye taking what belongs to this family when ye no longer do. So ye will leave now and ye will not return unless it’s to make things right with Brian Kavanagh, assuming he’ll still have ye.”
I turned to my mother, my last desperate hope. She was the only one who might have some pull. “Mam?”
Her expression flickered, but she stared down at her lap, her hands tightening around the silk of her dress.
She wasn’t going to help and a wave of nausea rolled through me as the finality of it all sank in.
I didn’t know how my legs moved, how I forced one foot in front of the other. The hallway blurred, the walls closing in as I stumbled toward the front door. The house that had been mine for almost eighteen years felt like a stranger, like a place I had never belonged.
Siobhan’s sobs followed me into the foyer and that spurred me to move quicker. The sounds were near to tearing me apart. I lurched out the door and noticed that when I’d walked in not but five minutes ago, the sun was bright and cheery. Now it was gone, and storm clouds loomed overhead.
Despite feeling the lowest I’d ever felt in my life, I had a burst of bravery by taking my bike. I braced for my father to come storming out of the house to pull it away from me, but he clearly didn’t even care enough to watch. Pain welled inside of me so intensely it felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest. I was horrified that a man who clearly had no care for his daughter could cause me such distress, and I muttered to myself to buck up as I straddled my bike.
My legs pedaled on instinct, the wind slicing against my face, my vision blurred with tears I refused to let fall. It wasn’t until I reached their front gate that the weight of it was just too much to bear.
I had no home.
I had nothing but the clothes on my back.
A sob clawed at my throat, but I swallowed it as I raced toward Rory’s cottage. There was smoke coming from the chimney and I threw my bike down just as Paddy would have done. I stumbled up the path, my hands shaking so hard I fumbled with the latch on the gate. My breath came in short, shallow bursts as I forced the door open and lurched inside.
Kathleen stood there, in shock as she took me in.
“Oh, love,” she breathed, her voice thick with concern as she hurried to me.
I crumpled into her arms and she pulled me against her as sobs tore from my chest. I’d never cried like that before—uncontrollable and raw. She murmured something soothing, but I barely heard her over the rush of blood in my ears, the painful hammering of my heart.
“Love… what’s wrong? Did Tommy—”
I shook my head hard. “My father… he… he…” I choked, gripping fistfuls of her sweater.
“Hush now,” she whispered, smoothing a hand over my hair, and I could tell that she knew exactly what had happened. “Rory and I knew this day might come. Yer safe now, sweetheart. We’ve got ye.”
I felt myself being guided into the sitting room, my legs barely working. Kathleen sat me on the couch and squatted before me. I blinked away tears and when more formed, I wiped them away so I could see her.
“I’m going to get Rory. I’ll be right back, yeah?”
I nodded dully and sunk back into the cushions when Kathleen hustled to the door. I stared at the braided wool rug for what seemed like only a few seconds before the door burst open and Rory charged through.
My head swiveled and I took in the mixture of sorrow and rage written all over his face. He didn’t ask what happened. He didn’t need to. He just exhaled heavily, then crossed the room and knelt in front of me, taking my cold hands in his rough, steady ones.
“Did he put his hands on ye?” His voice was low, dangerous.
I shook my head quickly, sniffing. “No. Just words.”
Rory’s jaw ticked, but he nodded, his grip tightening. “Then that’s all they are, Fiona. Words. He might be yer father, but he does not define ye. And he does not get to tell ye who ye are.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Where’s Kathleen?”
“I sent her to fetch Tommy,” he said, and that surprised me. This was a family matter and while Rory and Kathleen had welcomed Tommy as my suitor, I was deeply touched Rory would think to include him in this.