Page 72 of Guarding Salvation

Doyle stepped forward, his voice a snarl. “I’ll rule hell like I rule here. Nobody can stop me. I have so much power that even behind bars I’ll find you, not that I’ll be there long. I have friends in very high places. I’ll take pleasure in making sure you and all your little friends are tortured and kept alive for years to come so you can suffer.”

“Oh, you mistook me, I didn’t mean prison I meant actual hell.”

As Doyle laughed Aoife fired, squeezing the trigger like Bram had taught her, the sound exploding in her head as she heard it hit the wall behind her father. His laughter filled her ears and she realised she’d failed again, and he wouldn’t give her another chance to try and kill him. As he raised his gun, she went to dive behind the couch, but another bullet sounded, and she watched as Doyle stilled for a second before his body fell forward, revealing the silhouette of the man she loved behind him.

Bram stepped closer to her father’s fallen body and fired twice more as she looked on with so many emotions going through her body and mind it was all she could do to stay standing. Relief, disbelief, fear, anger, grief, and love for the man who’d set her free.

Bram rushed towards her and took her in his arms, holding her tight to his body as he whispered words of comfort and love which she could hardly comprehend as she wept, all the stress of the last few days suddenly sucking every last drop of energy from her body.

As the gunfire stopped and the threat was finally over, she looked down at the man who’d given her life, only to steal every ounce of joy from it over and over again and struggled to believe it was over.

The lights came on and Bás and Titan rushed in, moving to Snow who was watching her with a smile through her pain.

“You did good, Aoife. Your shot was shit, but you moved him into a position where Bram could take him and kept him talking.”

Aoife crouched beside her friend and held her hand as they moved her to the couch so she could be patched up and flown to the closest hospital.

“I’d like to say it was intentional, but it was all emotional instinct.”

An arm came around her and Bram kissed her head. “Bullshit, you’re a natural. What do you say Bás, you reckon we have room in the team for her?”

Bás raised an eyebrow and Aoife laughed.

“Actually, I think I want to give nursing a go.”

Titan pointed at her. “Now, that we definitely need on this team.”

As her father lay lifeless on the floor, she had to thank him in some ways because without him, she may never have met the man she loved or the people she knew would be her family until her dying day.

Chapter 30

Leaning back, Bram took a swig of the whisky his father had loved so much, feeling the heat of it slide smoothly down his throat. For forty minutes he’d sat in his father’s chair at his desk, looking at the envelope that was now fraying at the edges from wear.

Aoife was sleeping upstairs after the clean-up from the battle with Doyle and his death. It had been like a plug had been pulled and every ounce of energy had left her. He knew it would take months, perhaps years before she truly relaxed in the knowledge that her nightmare was over. He also knew it would be a lot longer before he forgave himself for his part in her kidnapping.

Turning the envelope over again, he listened to the sounds of the castle settling into sleep. The team had stayed overnight and would head back to Hereford tomorrow. Rykov had gone to Ireland to make sure the takeover had gone as smoothly as such a thing could.

He knew he’d put it off long enough and tore open the letter from his father, the familiar script causing an ache in his chest that he hadn’t expected or prepared for. He’d always been closer to his father, his mother’s injury causing her to withdraw, and he knew with the gift of hindsight that it had been his dad that had tried to keep the family together.

Forcing his eyes to the words he read.

Dear Bram,

If you’re reading this, then I’m no longer of this world. It may be selfish, but I pray that I go with your mother. I don’t know if I could survive this place without her love. Our story is one that I should’ve told you sooner but there never seemed like a good time, and while I don’t regret loving her and having the life I had, I do regret the pain I caused.

When I was twenty, I was promised to a woman I didn’t love. Rosalie Walsh was young and beautiful, and we knew each other well, but we weren’t in love, at least I wasn’t in love. I didn’t know at the time, but she was in love with me. I blame myself for not seeing the truth.

An arrangement was made for us to marry, but I wanted one last summer of freedom first and it was agreed. While I was away, I met your mother. She was the most stunning creature I’d ever laid eyes on. We fell in love. I told her of my promise to another and not once did she try and force me into something I couldn’t give her. She simply showed me love and fun and by the end of the summer, I knew I couldn’t leave her.

I don’t know if you’ll ever understand a love like that, but I pray you do. She was my heart and soul, so we married in secret, and I brought her home. Your grandfather was furious, but the marriage promise to Rosalie was already broken. I thought over time people would get over it.

I never dreamed for a second Rosalie would kill herself, that to her the marriage and engagement was real. I’ll never forgive myself for her pain and I know your mother always held misplaced guilt over her death too.

That’s the reason for the rift between our families, but I never believed it would spill over into the lives of my children.

The night I got the call about Ray Walsh attacking your sister is the worst of my life. I’ve never been so furious or felt so impotent. To have your child go through what she did is something I hope you never experience. Yet, that same night left me with a pride I’ll never forget.

In you, my son. You defended your sister in a way I never did, you sought out the criminal and handed out retribution. You did what I couldn’t. I’m so proud to call you my son, to know that you’ll stand up for the weak and won’t be afraid to do what’s needed. My only regret for you was that it would cost you your future. That’s why I called Jack Granger. He was a student when I taught a class as a guest lecturer at the camp and became a friend despite the age difference and through our connections with the royal family we became closer, I’d heard word he may be able to help. I never dreamed he could make it all go away the way it did, but I’m proud of how you took the chance and made something of your life.