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I wish that I could find the words to say, baby I would tell you every time you leave, I’m inconsolable. I don’t wanna be like this; I just wanna let you know, that everything that I hold in, is everything I can’t let go.


Once I slammed the door behind me, I yelled as loud as I could, balling my fists to keep from ripping my hair out. I slammed my fist into the brick siding of my house before I took off towards my car, climbing in only to slam on the gas, peeling out of the driveway and down the street packed with families enjoying the snow with their children.

I left like I had important things to get to, but the phone call was just Liam checking in on me; I had to leave because I knew if I stayed, she was going to push me to do something I’d never be able to live with. I was already close to laying a hand on her, punching her in the face to get her to just shut up already, and my chest felt like it was going to explode at just the thought of hurting her. She was screaming at me, trying to provoke me, or at least that’s what my mind was thinking in the moment. Now I see that she was yelling because she didn’t know how else to get through to me, because it seems like I only listened to her when she’s in my face or bleeding out in front of me.

I didn’t know where I was driving to, but when I got there, I sat in the car, staring at the rows of marble and granite covered in the names of loved ones lost. I knew there was someone buried here who wasn’t loved or missed, at least not anymore, and I had to swallow the bile that threatened to expel from my body at the mere thought of him.


My mum had sent me, Evie and my niece Isla out to get school supplies for college; Evie didn’t need any because she was 23 and graduated. My mum insisted Evie bring Isla with her, claiming to have a headache so she couldn’t watch Isla while we went to the shops. I insisted that I didn’t need a chaperone, and Evie was fine to stay home with Isla since I was sixteen; You never could argue with her though, and so here we were, arriving back to my house with the piles of plastic bags in the back with Isla.

“I’ll see you around, ya?” I asked Evie while grabbing my bags from the back of her car.

“Mum can’t go twenty four hours without seeing her,” She motioned at her daughter sitting in her car seat. “So you’re bound to see me sooner than you’d like.”

“I don’t mind.” I smirked, closing the door and starting up the driveway.

“Harry!” My sister called out her open window. I turned around raised my eyebrows.

“Don’t forget Isla’s third birthday party in a week, I’d have to kick your ass if you weren’t there.” Evie laughed.

“I’ll find the perfect gift.” I smiled and turned back towards the house, hearing Evie’s car pull away. Once the hum of the engine wasn’t in my ear, I could hear the faint sound of yelling. My father was probably home; I could tell now why my mum wanted Isla with us while we were out.

“I’m fucking sick of it.” I heard my dad yell, something smashing immediately after as I tried to make it to my room without being noticed.

I made it to my room, and I started putting my things away, preparing for the upcoming school year. I could hear more things breaking and I tried not to pay too much attention to it, but my head shot up when I heard my mother’s voice yelling back; she never yelled back, just sat and waited for him to get his anger out before she went about her day. Curiosity got the best of me and I snuck out of my room only to sit on the stairs listening.

“Stop breaking my things!” My mother yelled, something smashing after.

“I’ll break whatever the fuck I want to, seeing as this is my house and these are my things!” My father yelled back, breaking more things.

“You’re a right bastard!” She declared. “Get the hell out of here!” She screamed at him.

“This is my house.” He repeated.

“Get the fuck out!” She screamed, her voice cracking from straining her usually quiet voice.

I heard footsteps then then a thudding sound, like something hitting a wall.

“You’d be careful the way you talk to me, woman.” My father’s voice was quieter now, and I had to move lower on the steps to hear.

“Get your hands off of me.” My mother demanded. He mustn’t have listened to her because I could hear her spit and then another thud, this time it was harder.

“Watch the fucking way you talk to me.” My father yelled, and I heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh. My mother yelled out, but it wasn’t an insult. The sound repeated over and over until I couldn’t sit there any longer. I ran into the room, seeing my mother on the ground, my father over her, his fist pulled back in the air as she laid there, her face bruising and bleeding.

“What are you doing?!” I screamed at him.

“Arran, go upstairs.” My mother said, her swollen eyes pleading.

“No.” My father cut in, turning to face me, specs of blood on his shirt. “He’s gotta learn that no one should ever talk to him the way you talk to me if he’s going to take over The Untouchables when I’m gone.”

“Conall, don’t do this to him.” My mother begged, but my father turned back on her hitting her once more. I flinched, my voice breaking through the room.

“Stop!” I demanded.

My father laughed and faced me again,” why do all of you suddenly think you can speak to me like that.”

“You’re hurting her, don’t you care?” I asked, trying not to look at my mother.

“I’m teaching her a lesson, son.” He stated.

“Conall.” My mother grabbed his attention. “Leave him alone.”

“I’ll do what I damn well please.” He smirked as he swung his foot back and kicked her stomach.

While they were distracted, I ran into the hallway, rummaging through the closet for the toolbox. I found nothing useful except for a hammer, so I grabbed it and went back into the living room, pointing the tool at my father.

“Stop it or I swear I’ll kill you.” I demanded.

“Killing me would make you ineligible for leadership.” My father stated, like me taking over the gang was something I wanted, before he kicked her again.

“I said stop!” I yelled.

My father turned towards me fully and began stalking towards me, not thinking I ran forward and with all my strength, swung the backside of the hammer at his head, hitting him in the side, watching as the claw sunk into his skull, making a sickening cracking sound. I released the handle as my father slipped to the ground, his heavy body making a dense sound echoing in the silent room.

“Harry.” My mother breathed from her position on the floor, but I ignored her. I began to punch at my father, noticing he was still breathing. My punches became kicks and soon I was covered in blood, beating at any surface of him I could get to.

“Harry.” My mother repeated, placing her hand on my shoulder. I quickly spun, my fist going up, but I pulled it to my side when I saw her flinch.

“He was hurting you.” I stated, shaking my head, watching as my mother tried not to look scared of me.


I wiped at my face, ignoring the way my hand slid across my wet cheek. Staring at the cemetery, I watched a young woman walk to a grave, her umbrella shielding her from the falling snow. She kneeled at a freshly dug grave, tears falling freely from her eyes as she grasped the thick stone. I tilted my head as I watched her, not knowing what it felt like to lose someone and have it hurt. She could’ve been visiting her parent, or husband, or even child, and I didn’t know how to identify with her pain, never having lost anyone I cared about. I thought of Kyler’s body falling limp in my arms as I carried her out of the warehouse, and the air in my car became thick as I tried to breathe normally. I followed the girl as she stood and made her way back to her car, wiping at her face as she walked.

Putting my car in reverse, I backed up and started towards Jasper's, my tires protesting as I slid across ice on the road, speeding there. Once I arrived and parked, I walked across his lawn, knocking harshly on the door.

Once he answered, I pushed past him, walking into the warmth of his house.

“What is it?” He asked, looking out the front door before shutting and locking it.

“I have to tell her.” I stated, staring at him.

Jasper's eyes widened but quickly went into slits. “You can’t breathe a word of it.”

“I’m going to lose her if I don’t come clean, Jasper!” I yelled. “I almost fucking punched her in the face today, this is driving me insane. I almost turned into Conall.”

Jasper shook his head, “You’re not Conall, and you’re not telling her, that’s an order. Me and Robby are already in negotiations. I just have to settle the final details with Salvatore and it’ll all happen.”

I ran my hand over my face, sitting on the ground beneath me. “I can’t believe you would even ask that of me.”

Jasper sat down across from me on the couch. “Weeks ago you were down for it, you were even there when we had a meeting, planning it all out, now all of a sudden you care so you’re willing to throw the whole plan away, ruining everything we’ve accomplished.”

“It’s going to ruin her.” I argued.

“We all made sacrifices when we pledged ourselves to this gang and to this alliance with The Frontyards” Jasper rested his chin on his hand.

“You didn’t have to sacrifice Izzy for that to happen.” I glared at him.

“Who’d know you’d fall in love with the target!” Jasper stood, yelling.

I held my hands over my face and screamed, my hands muffling the sound. Everything was frustrating me and I couldn’t take it. I stood and unlocked the door, making my way back to the car.

“Don’t you dare tell Kyler!” Jasper screamed from the doorway, but I was already in the car, starting the engine and taking off back towards my house, my mind going a hundred miles per hour, trying to filter one single thought.

When I pulled into my driveway, I sat in the car for a moment before getting out and walking into my house. I didn’t even know how to begin apologizing, or know if she’d even take it; she was so angry earlier I wasn’t even sure she’d talk to me at all.

“Kyler.” I called out, climbing the stairs. I checked her old room, and didn’t see her. I went into my room, and there was no sign of her there either. I was about to turn and search the rest of the house, when something on my bed caught my attention. I approached my bed like a soldier would approach a bomb, not wanting to believe what my mind was telling me it was.

Scribbled on a small piece of paper was Kyler’s handwriting, telling me she was gone and not to look for her because I would never find her. She told me she didn’t want to be found or ever speak to me again, and I let the note slip from my hand as I ran to her old room, seeing the closet empty, some hangers hanging empty and sadly from the racks. A lone shirt swung there and I realized it was the plaid one I changed her into after Duke attacked her in the alley of that pub Duncan found her at. I grabbed it off the rack and held it in my hands before tearing at it, yelling to let my frustration out. I kicked and punched at the walls of the space, leaving holes where my limbs made contact. I gave one more hit before I fell to the floor, my cheek pressing against the cold finished wood as I finally gave in and let myself feel everything I was holding in, my body raking from sobs.


“Robby!” I yelled as I entered the townhome, throwing my bags to the side and searching the house. I didn’t find anyone after looking through every room, so I grabbed a change of clothes from my bags and headed to the master bathroom. I found some hydrogen peroxide under the sink and covered some rolled up toilet paper and dabbed on my cut before I felt the stinging, and threw the soiled paper away. I grabbed a piece of gauze and placed it over the wound, finding medical tape and using the whole roll to make sure the gauze wouldn’t move.

I grabbed the loose pair of sweatpants and pulled them up my legs, then changed from my heavy sweater to a turquoise crop top. I left my discarded clothes on the floor, not caring that I left Robby’s bathroom in shambles, and made my way back to the front of the house. I scrambled through my bags, finding a hair wand and some nail polish and decided to kill some time. I set up in the living room, blindly grabbing hair and wrapping it around the ceramic stick. Once I was finished, I styled my hair in a loose French braid, and rummaged through the bag of nail polish, settling on a dark red color. While I was sitting, waiting for my toes to dry I heard the front door open.

“I’ve been waiting for ages!” I complained, getting up and walking towards the door like a penguin, careful to not mess up my toes. “I’m starving and I want take out, but I don’t want to use my money.”

“Anything you want.” A gruff voice spoke, and I turned the corner to see my father standing in the doorway, Robby walking in behind him.

“Daddy!” I shrieked, running towards him to engulf him in a bear hug.

He returned the favor, kissing the top of my head before releasing me.

“How was South Africa?” I asked, genuinely interested.

“What happened to you darling?” He ignored my question, his hand immediately going to my neck then my face.

“You have some explaining to do.” I poked his chest. “That’s the type of shit I expected from mom, but you setting me up to have me, not only kidnapped, but beaten was something I was extremely disappointed about. It was insanity!”

I had forgotten Robby was in the room, and I widened my eyes, covering my mouth with my hand.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Robby and my father said at the same time.

“You I wasn’t supposed to tell.” I pointed at Robby. “And you,” I motioned towards my dad, “were supposedly behind me being taken by ‘Blackjacks’ members just to get a reaction out of Harry and his gang so they’d work with Robby and an alliance could be started from there.”

“I’d agree to no such thing!” My father dropped his bag, his face going along with it.

“Well mother said-“and then it dawned on me; she knew I wouldn’t go for it if she was the one behind it. She played with my affection for my father and manipulated me into getting her way. I laughed sarcastically, holding my hand to my forehead, my laughter becoming borderline insane realizing she wasn’t a mother at all, not really. No mother would put their children through the shit she put me through, not one in their right mind at least. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, pitying her upbringing, but there was a point in time when you could no longer blame the environment someone grew up in for their behavior and had to start blaming the person themselves.

“I shouldn’t have expected anything less.” Robby said, a look of disgust covering his face. He opened his mouth to say something when my father suddenly fell to his knees, his hand clutching at his chest.

“Daddy!” I screamed, falling beside him, trying to hold him up, his weight defeating my efforts as my arms went with him, crashing to the ground. “What’s happening?” I turned, asking Robby as my father struggled for breath

“I think he’s having a Heart Attack.” Robby panicked, pulling out his phone, fumbling with the buttons.

“What the fuck is the fucking number for an ambulance out here?!” He yelled in frustration, but his fingers finally hit the right buttons. Soon he was rambling off his address into the phone as I stared down at my father, the fear evident in my face and voice as I tried to reassure him everything would be fine.

Submitted: September 22, 2015

© Copyright 2022 Seraphina94. All rights reserved.


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Book / Thrillers