Page 72 of The Lies That Shatter
I release a shuddered breath that’s only a step away from a sob, and I know my brother can hear how close I am to losing it. She’s my whole fucking world, and I put her in danger. I told McKenna ages ago that being in my world would be dangerous, but she didn’t listen, and now it might be too late.
“Hey,” Kel shouts, snapping me out of the dark thoughts that are pulling me under. “I know how fucking devastating it feels when the one you love is missing—I speak from experience. But, I promise you, none of us will rest until we bring McKenna home to you. Now, pull yourself together and get over here. She needs you!”
He doesn’t need to say anything more. Reminding me that my girl needs me is all it takes for me to get my head back on straight. I will get McKenna back. I will burn down the world until I find her and she returns to me. I’ve never wanted to be a hero. My family are the villains of most stories, but with McKenna, I want to be her hero. I won’t stop until she’s back in my arms.
Even though Bree’s large house has never been my home—other than the odd night staying over for a visit—there’s something about the place that feels distinctly more like home than anywhere else. Even the childhood house over in Ireland where I grew up.
Whilst that house will always hold so many great memories, it’ll always be tainted by the expectations our father placed on us from an early age. I used a gun for the first time, killed my first animal in a hunt I never wanted to be part of, and I learnt to lie and block out pain. It was the type of education no child should have to go through, but it was Dad’s way of preparing us for the life we would have to lead.
Most of my childhood was based on lies, and the man I know as my father is actually an illusion based on how he wants the public to perceive him. Still, that doesn’t change a lifetime of painful memories. No matter how genuine his motives are, he subjected us to cruel and punishing behaviours that continue to affect us as adults.
Hell, we’re all going to need a shit tonne of therapy just to make it to our thirties at this rate, and every single thing leads back to our Daddy issues. Whenever I’m in my childhood house, I’m consumed by the grief and horrors of my past, trying to make sense of what was real and what wasn’t. Whereas, whenever I step into Red’s house, I feel calm—home.
People always say that home isn’t necessarily a place—home is where the heart is—and I guess to an extent that’s true. I feel a sense of comfort walking into Bree’s house, surrounded by my siblings and friends. Like this is the place where I’m supposed to be, but there’s still something missing. My heart is somewhere else, and until I bring her home, I will never know true calm.
As soon as I walk through the door, Red launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck as she pulls me in for a hug, the front door slamming behind me. “I’m so sorry, Finn. We’re going to fix this, I promise you. We’re going to find McKenna and bring her back.”
Bree’s words are spoken in the tough, authoritative leader voice she uses to demand the attention of hundreds of bloodthirsty, misogynistic criminals. It’s a tone that speaks of confidence and certainty, and it calms my racing heart to know she means every word.
Red takes a step back, and I look up to find everyone—except Evan, who is still in Ireland—waiting for me in the living room. Since Red has been taking in more strays, and they’re having kids of their own, Bree’s expanded her house more times than I can count.
I once asked her why she doesn’t just buy a bigger house, even though there’s more than enough land around this one for her to build us all our own properties—like a mini Doughty village—but she said it wouldn’t be the same.
This house was her favourite of all the homes her Gramps owned, and he gifted it to them when they first got engaged. It gets bigger as her family grows, and I think that’s a metaphor in itself.
Looking around the living room, I’m surprised by how quiet it is, despite being full of people. Liam’s sitting on one end of the sofa, baby Nate bouncing up and down on his knee, while Hallie sits on the other, shooting daggers at the giggling baby. Uncle Liam has always been her favourite, and it would appear she’s not keen on sharing his attention, even with his own kid. Thankfully, Nate doesn’t seem to notice or care.
Mia’s sitting on the opposite end of Liam’s sofa, watching the children with a small smile on her face, though it’s as bright as I’ve come to expect. There’s a sadness leaking from her, and the bags under her eyes are darker than normal, the red tinge around them suggests she’s been crying.
Bree doesn’t hesitate to throw herself into the gap between Liam and Mia. She grabs Mia’s hand, lacing it with hers, before turning her attention to the kids. Mia doesn’t want the attention, clearly, but Bree gives her the support she knows she needs from a lifetime of friendship.
Kian is in one of the matching armchairs, with Freya on his lap, and my father, Desmond, is sitting in the one opposite. The rest of the chairs are pulled from various rooms in the house. Wooden dining chairs, high stools from the breakfast bar, even a little beanbag that I’ve never seen before. People have just found somewhere to sit, and they’re all waiting.
Shane’s holding hands with Ryleigh, who seems to be looking him over for injuries and telling him off at the same time,which makes me smile. Ry may be the youngest sibling, but you definitely don’t want to mess with her, and it appears Shane is well-versed in everything related to my sister, as he seems to just be doing as he’s told.
As soon as my family notices me, all eyes turn my way, and they all start talking at once. I can barely make out who’s saying what, so I hold my hands out to silence them. The pounding in my head that’s been growing since finding out about Mac, is now more overwhelming, surrounded by so many people.
My family winces as they realise they were all talking at once, throwing me wide apologetic eyes that gut me even more. I hate the sadness I see reflected, alongside their sympathy that I never wanted.
I’m pulled from my swirling dark thoughts by a noise coming from in the kitchen, and other than Kel—who I assume is working in his office—everyone who should be here is, so I’m instantly on edge.
As the door to the kitchen opens, I’m momentarily startled to see Mum walk through, carrying a tray full of mugs and a large teapot. She places it on the coffee table in the middle of the room, and motions for my dad to pour everyone drinks as she walks over to me.
Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. It gives me time to take in my mum, who I haven’t seen in well over a year. She looks the same as I remember; dirty blonde hair that’s closer to brunette—so similar to mine—only hers falls down to just below her shoulders in an elegant style. Her bright green eyes are exact replicas of Liam and Evan’s, the only two siblings who got her eye colour instead of Dad’s. Her skin is flawless, displaying only a few wrinkles that give away her true age.
Although she looks the same, there’s something different about her. Mum has always had this illusive air about her,similar to Dad, and as a result, she was almost unapproachable growing up.
There was nothing loving or comforting in her as a mother, even though she would have moments where the facade would slip. She’d wipe our tears, or tend to whatever wound we got whilst misbehaving. We caught glimpses of the mum we wanted, but then her hard mask of indifference would return, and we’d be starved of affection once more.
As I take in my mum for the first time in over a year, I can tell why she looks different. The mask is gone, and every emotion she’s ever tried to hide is now displayed on her face, flashing in her eyes. She looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. The baggy sweats she’s wearing are a far cry from the pant suits I’m used to seeing her in, and even though the change is jarring, it’s oddly comforting.
So, when Mum pulls me into her arms for the first real hug she’s given me in as long as I can remember, I don’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her, too. As soon as she feels me return the embrace, a sob racks her body, and she holds on tighter, squeezing me like I might disappear if she lets go.
Suddenly, every emotion I’ve been trying not to feel since I hung up on Kel, hits me all at once. The growing panic of each unanswered call to McKenna, the worst case scenarios swirling around my head. They consume me, and I lose it.
Tears stream down my face as my heart races in panic. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try to draw in air in between sobs, and my body trembles as I fall apart in Mum’s arms.
Throughout it all, she just holds me, rubbing slow circles on my back like she used to do whenever I was sick as a child. Despite being almost a foot shorter than me, she’s on her tip-toes whispering reassuring words that are just for my ears, shushing me, helping me to calm down. She doesn’t try to stop me from crying, she just tells me to let it all out.
