Page 15

I absently met his gaze, “Darla and Daisy. Daisy doesn’t approve of motorcycle clubs. She’s a little uptight around the edges, but she means well. They’re pretty different people, the two of them, but… they’re sisters.”

I nodded, having a few sisters of my own that I barely claimed. No matter what, they were still kin. There were times you wanted to throttle them, but blood was blood.

Once it all ended, Cole stood and cleared his throat, “Would you? Uh– Would you mind if I took a moment to–?”

His finger flipped toward the confessional booth, and I immediately nodded, “Of course. Take your time.”

Oakland had long since bounded outside with the other children. I headed that way, taking up a lean against the pillar of the church porch while surveying the yard for him.

The joyful melody of a dozen or more children sprang from every corner. It was nice to see, but it wasn’t what I was looking for.

Daisy stood near the side of the yard with her sister. Daisy’s curly hair wasn’t secured at all, it hung beautifully down to her shoulders, but when she threw it away from her face, I could tell by her expression she wasn’t pleased. After what looked like a somewhat heated exchange, she swatted the air between them and shook her head and walked away from Darla.

It isn’t any business of mine, I reminded myself, as I returned my attention to the yard. I spotted Daisy’s nephews, but Oakland wasn’t with them. When I noticed Daisy again, she had paused some twenty feet from where I’d last seen her. The woman’s gaze was much gentler than it had been with her sister, my breath caught, when I realized it was fixed on my son.

I grabbed the porch rail and hurried down the steps. Daisy was faster. My heart hammered, unsure of what had occurred.

Oakland was a good boy. Surely, he hadn’t done anything to offend or draw her wrath.

When she reached him, her hand came out and rested on his opposite shoulder. Oakland didn’t startle, instead his head dipped bashfully, and he gave a hesitant nod.

My pace slowed, my mind somewhat eased by the sight.

“You’ll love them. They’re your age.” Daisy insisted, guiding Oakland along.

I smiled, and the warmth of that tiny moment filled my heart. My eyes misted. I looked away to try and compose myself, but the sight at the end of the church parking lot stole my breath. A disheveled, heavily tattooed man was jerking Daisy’s sister around like she weighed nothing at all. He’d ripped her from the driver side of the car as best I could tell, and she was scrabbling at everything she could to get back inside.

“Dai–” I began, but the shrill sound of Darla’s horn cut me off.

The sound didn’t stop. She laid on it while he tugged at one leg and landed a brutal blow to her ribs.

“What the–?” Daisy sucked in a breath, her face contorting with disbelief.

Before anyone else could react to the unthinkable situation playing out in front of us, she was already crossing the church yard. Everything seemed to happen at once. Of the dozen men who had been in mass, only one immediately took after her. A second hesitantly followed, but by then, the man had given Darla a yank that tore her free of the steering wheel. Her head smacked soundly off the concrete.

I cried out like I was the one suffering the attack. Unsure if I wanted to scream or cry, I turned away from the chaos and called as loudly as I could, “Oakland!”

I didn’t realize how loudly I’d done it, until Father Barnetti grasped my left arm and placed his hand at the small of my back.

“This way, Ms. O’Brien.” He led me toward the sound of children chattering excitedly, “It’s alright, here is young Oakland. Yes, that’s a good boy. See your mother back inside for me, won’t you?”

Father Barnetti led Oaklands hand to mine and hugged our palms together.

I was trembling as I scooped him to my side and forced him to look up at me.

“We don’t need to go inside. There are good men who will sort this situation, because that is what good men do. Hear me?”

He nodded vigorously, and I realized how hard my hand was trembling. I stroked his cheek and smiled.

“You don’t walk away from things like this. Don’t act like it ain’t your business. Mistreating those who are unable to defend themselves, and not saying anything only aids their suffering.”

I took a deep breath. I knew Patrick would say something wise and make a lesson out of it, but all I could do was jabber.

Darla was just a woman. Just like me. She had her boys and this was done to her in a church parking lot. A place that should have been peaceful, and safe for them.

I wasn’t one to swallow injustice lightly.

“And you better never put your hands on a woman that way. I don’t know who that waste of air was, but I promise you, he ain’t no man.” I realized I was chirping away unprovoked while Oakland dutifully nodded to every word and nearly snorted.