Page 32 of Hook

She nods. “Of course.”

It was a risk putting my ma here with her to take care of her. As with her condition, Gwendolyne might be able to manipulate the situation. Hence why this can’t be a permanent solution. “Don’t worry, I intend to take her back to our home in San Diego tomorrow, and the staff can handle her.”

“Oh, I was enjoying it here.”

I shake my head. “Well, all good things must come to an end.”

“Come and have a bowl of stew,” she says, gesturing to the table.

My stomach rumbles as it smells delicious. “I’d never say no to your stew, but let me get a glass of whiskey first.”

I notice the disappointment in her eyes as I know she thinks I drink too much, but I grab the bottle of scotch and tumbler off the countertop and take it to the table, sitting and pouring myself a large glass.

She grabs the pot off the stove and places it on a heatproof mat in the center, dishing me a large portion. “Eat up, little Cillian. You want to grow big and strong,” she says.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from correcting her and pointing out that I’m now thirty years old and not ten.

I take a taste and it’s as delicious as ever. “It’s always so good, Ma.”

Her throat bobs as she stares into space. “Your da and sister have been gone ten years now. It’s hard to believe.”

Pain slams into my chest hearing her talk about them. Well Kira mostly, especially since half the time she doesn’t remember Kira, let alone that she’s gone. It’s rare that she speaks of her at all. “Yes, to the day,” I mutter.

Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I still miss them both every single day.”

“So do I,” I lie, as the only one I miss is Kira.Da can rot in hell for what he did to me. I cast my mind back to that hotel bar, where I saw the news with Smyth on the television.

Smyth’s eyes flicker to the television screen on the back wall and the blood drains from his face as he stares at it with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, brow furrowing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He points at the screen and I shift so that I can see it better. My entire world crumbles as I read the headline.

Jonathan and Kira Murphy found dead at home.

I stare at the words for a long time, trying to make sense of them.

I’ve never felt more conflicted in a single moment. The relief and joy of seeing Da was dead, coupled with a deep and aching grief at seeing Kira’s name there with his.

Why couldn’t it have just been him?

Grabbing her hand, I squeeze. “Don’t worry, the man responsible is going to be brought to his knees soon.”

She nods. “I want you to make him pay dearly, Cillian. You hear me? It’s been a long time coming, so do it right.”

I arch a brow. “Of course I’ll do it right.”

“That girl. Who is she to him?”

I clench my jaw as I realize she’s talking about Gwen. “His fiancée.”

She tilts her head. “By arrangement or choice?”

“Arrangement,” I confirm.

“And what are you going to do to her?”

I drum my fingers on the table, as I’m not sure she’ll be happy with my plan. “Marry her.”

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