Page 105 of Arranged Scars
We both lunge.
I’m closer, but he’s faster. I scream, reaching out, and his shoulder bashes into my face. I grunt, knocked sideways, as I wrap my fingers around the grip. He has my wrist though and I can’t get my finger on the trigger. I kick and thrash as Mal twists, sending agony down to my elbow. The gun clatters to the floor and I try to punch Mal in the back, but it’s like hitting sand, for all the good it does.
I cry out, but I can barely hear. Mal twists, the gun coming up, a manic gleam in his eyes, so sure that he won, and I knew it would end like this, one of my brothers finally finishing what they’ve so gleefully enjoyed all my life, except Mal suddenly slumps sideways as Finn smashes into him and stabs a shard of glass deep into his neck right above the collarbone.
The gun goes off. I curl to the floor, covering myself. Finn keeps stabbing, over and over, as Mal struggles against him. There’s so much blood. I crawl sideways, looking around wildly. The office door is open and Dad’s gone. Finn keeps slamming his hand down, again and again, until the glass shard finally breaks. Mal’s not moving and Finn’s drenched in blood as he slowly pushes himself to his feet.
Mal’s throat and face is a pulp of slices and exposed skin. The gun is lying nearby.
Finn reaches a hand out to me. It’s cut deeply from where he was gripping the glass. I look at my husband’s face and he’s smiling now. The real Finn shines through, glorious and beautiful, and I take his bloody palm in my own. He pulls me to my feet and slams his lips against my mouth, tasting my bloody lip and clearly not caring. I kiss him back wildly, arms wrapped around his neck, my oldest brother’s corpse at our feet.
It’s stupid. I’m aware that we’re not safe. Those explosions came from the front of the house, which means someone else is here, and Dad’s missing. I should probably do something about all that.
But kissing Finn is a priority right about now.
“I thought I was dead,” I say, gasping for breath. Finn’s mouth is smeared with my blood. He licks it, grinning wildly. “What the hell was that explosion?”
“My brothers.”
He leads me by the hand back into the hall. There’s smoke rolling along the ceiling. We reach the entryway and it’s a mess of kindling, splinters, ruined paintings, and flames all over. Finn turns us away, down toward the kitchen, and I take thelead, hurrying to the back door. It’s standing open already, and outside it’s blinding and bright, a nice, warm, comfortable day.
Dad’s kneeling on the ground. His normally perfect patio is a mess. Furniture’s thrown over, and I’m guessing the other bomb went off back here. There’s a big crater in the concrete and the windows are shattered.
Cormac stands with a gun against Dad’s head. Seamus is beside them, texting something on his phone. “Took you long enough,” he mutters and glances up. “Jesus, you two look awful.”
“Not our blood,” Finn says but shrugs sheepishly. “Mostly, anyway. I thought you were bringing an ambulance?”
“I thought I was too until we saw you going inside with this asshole and his asshole son.” Seamus kicks Dad on the side. “We figured you’d need a distraction instead.”
I step away from Finn. Dad’s staring at me. The burning house reflects in his eyes. He looks old and frail, and maybe I should feel bad for him. In the end, he lost everything: his four beloved boys, his treasured wife, his home, his future, his power.
“You deserved worse,” I say to him and hold out a hand to Cormac. “Gun, please.”
Cormac doesn’t even hesitate. He hands it over and steps aside. I aim at Dad’s face.
He tilts his chin up, a smile on his lips. “You don’t have the strength in you, Caroline. You never did. Let the men handle it.”
Finn steps up behind me. He puts a hand on my arm gently, leaning his body against my back. I feel his strength radiating through me like sunshine. “Do it,” he whispers softly, bending down to kiss my neck.
“Together,” I say.
“Together,” he agrees.
Dad jerks back. His eyes go wide. “Hold on. Wait. You can’t?—”
I pull the trigger. The gun bucks. Dad’s head explodes in a shower of mist. He slumps sideways and I put another bullet in his neck, just for good measure.
It’s quiet in the yard after that. Cormac takes his gun back and holsters it. Dad’s corpse looks like nothing. Just some skin and bones.
For the first time in my life, I’m alone.
My abusers are gone and they’ll never hurt me again.
Finn slips his hand through mine and holds on tight.
“We’ll clean up here,” Seamus says, nodding at the blaze. He grabs my dad by the ankles. “Well, the fire will do most of the work.”
“You two head home.” Cormac goes to help Seamus.
