Page 98 of Heavy

I let her turn my head to completely face her, and she smiles. That gentle one that says ‘don’t worry’ even if that’s all I’m going to do. “Aren’t you worried they’d come here for you?” They seem resourceful, I imagine they know exactly where she is staying.

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Why?”

“I think you are the reason they aren’t coming.”

My brow pops out of curiosity.

“You always raise the one with the ‘SIT’, do you know that?”

“Don’t get sidetracked.” My voice lowers, and I grab onto her waist, dragging her closer. “Which one hurt you?”

“Ronan!” She throws her head back. “You can’t go out and hurt everyone—”

“I did yesterday.” The way her head slowly returns to me, mouth agape, has me chuckling. “What? You think I’m fucking kidding about your safety? No, baby girl, I’m not.” I pause, contemplating before continuing, “I’ll drop thisfor nowif you tell me the name of the one that put their hands on you that night.”

I’ll deal with this immediate problem, and then I’ll figure out who hurt her when she was fifteen. I’m sure Ken won’t mind helping. Between the two of us, we’ve got enough connections to make peoplehurt, and even some disappear.

“R—”

“Don’t argue with me,” I snap, moving my hand up and grabbing her entire jaw. “Would you rather I go find out myself?”

“Tell me what you did yesterday, first.”

Dropping my head back, I growl. “You ask a lot for someone giving so little in return.”

She hasn’t moved her hand, and as she slides it back up to my hair, I close my eyes, a soft hum escaping my throat as I savor the sensation.

“A friend and I just wanted to have a chat.”

Yeah, right.I pulled up to their house—more like a mansion—right outside of the city. Glen was waiting there, ready to go. We may or may not have got into a bit of a fist fight when they wouldn’t let me in to justchat. It was only when bats came out that things got a bit messy. Plus, a dozen verses two was hard enough without weapons. I’m surprised that they didn’t have guns, but I’m not going to question my luck.

“Talking gave you those bruises on your back, I guess,” she says mockingly, and I catch a flicker in her eyes, as if something’s just clicked.

“What?”

“Nothing, so what happened?” I hate that:nothing. There is always something.

“We didn’t even get past their front gate, but I promise with enough motivation I will get anywhere for you.” The last bit of that slipped, and I quickly move on. “Give me his name, then I’ll give you what you want.”

I don’t look at her, just allow her to sit for a moment on that.

“Michael Horn.”

I’ve not killed in a few years. I did it in prison, but out of self-defense, which thankfully was captured on video surveillance, or I’d have added five to ten more on top of my sentence. I’ve learned from my mistakes and won’t make them again. Public execution, while thrilling, won’t end well for me. I’ll enjoy a silent kill.

“Now you tell me,” she whispers, settling down against my chest and extending her hand. I take it, lacing our fingers together.

“Right.” I don’t think she’s ready for this. Not many are, especially when it comes from someone like me. “Guess I can start when I was nine.”

“You are the kind of heavy that isn’t worth carrying, Ronan.”

31

Ronan

AGE 14

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