Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Mum!”
“What?”
My temper flares, and I keep it tamped down with difficulty, speaking through clenched teeth. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone that, remember?”
I can almost see the expression on her face, all worried and nervous. “Oh, aye. I’m sorry, love. He asked so many questions, I thought he was only being friendly.”
“Please, don’t tell him anything about me.” I sigh. “Listen, I’ve something to tell you,” I begin, my heart stammering in my chest at what I need to tell her.
“What is it, love?”
“There’s… there’s a woman come to see me.”
I can hear her and Tully chatting in the other room.
“Oh, is there?”
“Aye, Mum. And she…” My voice trails off as I muster the courage to speak the truth out loud. This could be such devastating news; I fear being the person that does this to her. Plus, my mother’s health is fragile, and I hate the thought of putting any more undue pressure on her.
I stare at the door to my bedroom, as if willing myself to get the courage to do this. I can’t turn back now, though.
I wish Tully was with me.
Why? Why now, of all times?
There’s no easy way to do this.
I sigh. “I think she’s my sister, Mum.”
There’s a pregnant pause for a full half minute before she speaks again.
“Say that again, McKenna.”
“My sister, Mum.” I sigh. “She’s come from Scotland, and was told you were her mum.” I gulp hard. “And the truth is, she looks like she could be my twin.”
“Oh. Oh, my.”
There’s another pause before she speaks. “There was a man, McKenna. Before your father.”
“Aye. Nothing to be afraid of, Mum. I mean, lots of women are with men before they meet their husbands.”
Take me, for example. The very thought of Tully as my husband…
“He was an evil man,” she whispers. “He did terrible, wicked things.”
My stomach clenches. This isn’t what I expected. An affair, maybe. Even a long-term relationship. But something tells me that this relationship was neither.
"I was at a party with a friend. I was younger, much younger than I was when I was with your father. I had too much to drink, as young teens sometimes too. And this man took advantage of me. I wasn’t ready to be a mother. Not yet. So I put the child up for adoption.”
My God. I had no idea. I wish we weren't having this conversation on the phone. I’d do a video call, but my mom is terrible at technology. "We need to see each other. I'm not upset with you, Mum. Not at all.”
My mother sounds pained on the phone. “She was adopted by someone in affiliation with the north. They kept things quiet, didn’t want her to be caught in the crosshairs of mob life.”
I understand that.
Her voice drops, and it sounds as if she might be crying. I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose, when I hear the door to my bedroom opening. I can feel his presence before I even see him, smell his signature deep, woodsy smell. I don’t turn to look as he approaches me. He sits on the edge of the bed beside me, and it sags beneath his weight. Wordlessly, he drags his fingers to the back of my neck and massages. Relief floods through me.
“I don’t blame you, Mum,” I say trying to ease the pain I know she feels. “Anyone would admire a woman who put a child up for adoption when she knew she couldn’t raise her herself.”
“Not anyone, McKenna.” She sniffs. “But thanks for being so understanding. We do foolish things sometimes, and I—”
“Mum, stop apologizing. What’s done is done. Mary’s here in the flesh, alive and well and grateful to have found me and you. Let’s meet, aye?”
“Oh, aye.”
Tully’s fingers squeeze my neck, but this time it isn’t reassuring at all, but meant to get my attention. My eyes fly to his.
“What?” I mouth.
He shakes his head firmly, his eyes alight with conviction. “You can’t do that, lass,” he says. “It’s far, far too risky.”
“Just a minute, Mum.”
One of these days, Tully and I are going to have a battle of epic proportions and neither of us will survive it.
I put my mum on mute.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I say, glaring. “If I want to visit my mum I bloody well will!”
His eyes narrow to slits as he grasps my entire face in his one large, massive hand. “I can.”
“Says who?” I manage to eke out between squished cheeks.
“Says Keenan. He sent me to introduce you to Mary and to bring you back.”
“No!”
“McKenna,” he growls. “We’ve set a guard out here for you, a guard we can’t afford to lose or lend. We have women and children at the house who need all the protection we could give them. We’re preparing for war, and all you can think about is yourself?”