by Casey, Ryan
“I left him. And I could’ve… I could’ve helped him. None of this had to happen.”
Max sighed. “I’m sorry. I know how tough it is.”
“What do you know?” Aoife said dismissively.
“More than you realise,” Max shouted.
He regretted it, right away. Turned around. But he wished he’d never said anything. Wished he’d never brought any attention to himself in that way.
Because he could see the look in Aoife’s eyes.
Inquisitiveness.
Curiosity.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Something happened to you. To make you so cold. What was it?”
He heard the ringing in his ears.
Saw the memory in his head.
He saw the whole scene dancing before his eyes again.
And as much as he didn’t want to tell Aoife the truth about his past, about everything, he couldn’t hold off any longer.
“Three years ago,” he said, the words spilling out and lifting a weight from his shoulders in an instant, “I was a police officer. I decided to take an extra week of day shifts to cover for a colleague. My wife, Kathryn. She wasn’t happy. Because we’d planned on going away to the Lakes for the weekend with our son. David.
“It was the Wednesday night. I remember it well. Not hearing from Kathryn, which was weird because we always text during the day. Getting back late. Stepping inside and seeing all the lights were off. Then finding her there. Blood all over the place. Stabbed.”
Aoife didn’t say a word.
She just looked on, pale as a ghost.
“I rushed over to her side,” Max said. “I wanted to know she was okay. I wanted to believe that because I was there, I could help her. Save her. But she’d been there for a while. Bleeding out. Kept a prisoner in her own home. And she was saying something to me. Not asking for help or anything like that but asking me to check on David. Our son.”
Aoife stared with wide eyes at Max.
“I rushed into his bedroom, and I…”
He shook his head.
“I was too late,” he said. “The man who killed him… He was there. Smiling. Gloating. Some revenge or other for arresting his girlfriend. The police got there before I could kill him. Before I could do anything to him. And in a way… in a way, that made it worse. Not being able to punish him for what he did, there and then. But we shouldn’t have even been home. We should’ve gone. And that was on me.”
He looked up at Aoife, a weight rising from his shoulders at even speaking about it.
He turned around and went on walking.
“So I do understand,” Max said. “More than you’d ever believe.”
He walked. Walked on in silence. And he expected Aoife to say something to him. Something judgemental. Like he deserved it.
But she was silent.
Really silent.
And then, as if sensing she’d been quiet for too long, she spoke.
“I’m sorry for what you went through,” she said. “I can’t… I can’t imagine the pain you must’ve felt. But I… I know what it’s like to lose someone. I know what it’s like to feel like you have the power to save someone but can’t do anything in the end. I know it’s different, but… but my boyfriend. My ex. Jason. He… I thought we had a perfect relationship. Engaged. So sweet. Got married. And then… and then I found him on the honeymoon. Masturbating. I wondered what he was looking at, at first. I was a bit pissed. But then I saw the page had frozen and… They were children. There was no getting away from it. They were kids.”
Max grunted. “Shit.”
“We broke up immediately. But despite everything… I still felt like I wanted to help him. Like I wanted to believe this was just a character flaw. A shard of glass that could be removed. And that he could be fixed. We… we agreed he was going to go to the police with me. But it didn’t happen like that. He took his own life before he could have the chance. And I was too late to save him. Because I was with another guy.”
Max looked back at Aoife. He heard the pain in her voice. And it reflected his pain. The pain he felt.
“I’m sorry you went through that,” he said.
She looked up at him. Nodded.
“The person who… who did this to you. To your family. What was he called?”
Max narrowed his eyes.
Thought of Seth.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
Aoife opened her mouth. She had that haunted expression to her face again.
And then she closed her mouth. “It… it doesn’t matter.”
Max nodded. “Right.”
It felt like there was more to be said.
It felt like a bond had opened between them.
A connection.
And that felt dangerous.
She went to smile at Max when he turned around.
Walked on.
It was time to get back home.
But he couldn’t deny he liked Aoife.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Seth stood outside the house it all unfolded at three long years ago, and he smiled.
It was morning now. The sun had just risen. And it was truly beautiful. Walking in the world a free man, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like. The sound of birdsong. The smell of the morning frost. The feel of the icy grass crunching beneath his footsteps. He could get used to being a free man, that was for sure.
But he wasn’t here to be sentimental.
He was here to finish a job he wanted to finish three years ago.
The house he was at was just as he remembered. Semi-detached. Nice neighbourhood. And seeing it looking so similar to how it used to look gave him hope. Because maybe he still lived here. The detective, Max. The man who ruined his life. Who took everything away from him.
The man who he still wanted revenge against, for all he’d taken from him.
Arresting him. Picking on him, time and time again. That was understandable. Forgivable, even.
But for taking Sandy away from him.
For getting her arrested.
And for her to take her life in prison…
That he couldn’t forgive.
Because Sandy was everything to him.
He walked up to the door of the house. It looked like the power was still out everywhere. The cars on the road. The people standing outside their houses, chatting to their neighbours. And in the silence, a real palpable sense that things were on the brink. On the precipice. On the verge of falling apart.
And times of chaos were Seth’s favourite time to operate.
Chaos was the best cover.
He stopped at the front door. Held up a shaking hand. He wondered how he was going to go about this. Part of him just wanted to look the officer, Max, in the eye and smile. He wanted to look at him like he’d won. Like he was victorious. Like he was still here, and he was still haunting him.
And then force Max into doing something he really regretted.
The other part of him wanted to go inside his home, take whatever life he’d rebuilt for himself away from him, and finish his life, once and for all.
Just as he wanted to do three years ago, when the police showed up out of nowhere and ended Seth’s revenge prematurely, right in its tracks.
He knocked on the door, gritted his teeth, and he waited.
At first, nothing. And that filled him with concern, for a moment. Because what if the house was empty? What if there was nobody here? Where would he go from here? What else did he have?
He was about to knock again when he saw a figure approaching the door.
He gritted his teeth.
Held his breath.
And then the door opened.
The bad news?
It wasn’t Max.
It was a woman.
Holding a baby in her arms.
She looked young. Probably too young to be Max’s wife. Which pissed Seth off slightly. But there could still be hope, righ
t?
She glared at him. “Yes?”
“Sorry,” Seth said, remembering his best manners. “I was just… Does Max still live here?”
“Max?” the woman said. “No. He… Who are you? It’s—it’s really early.”
“Sorry,” Seth said. “I just… I was driving through, and my car broke down. I had an old friend who lived here. Thought he could put me up for a little while. Until the power comes back. Anyway. Sorry to bother you.”
Seth turned around, seething. He was half-tempted to attack the woman just for not being who he wanted to come to the door.
“Hold on,” she said.
Seth turned around. “Yeah?”
“Max, you said? The guy who used to own this place? I think I’ve got his new address somewhere. If you can bear with me a minute.”
Seth’s eyes lit up. He went from hating this woman to loving her in the space of a moment. “Only if that’s no trouble to you.”
“Sure,” she said. “Just… just give me a sec. It’s around here somewhere. You can… you can…”
And then she stopped.
And Seth knew why. He could see it in her eyes. That uncertainty. That hesitation. That sense that there was something just off about him, that he’d seen in the eyes of so many already.
She was going to ask him inside.
And then she’d stopped herself.
She smiled at him, out of politeness. “I’ll be with you in a sec.”
“Sure,” Seth said.
He watched her turn around. Watched her walk into that house.
And Seth walked in after her.
He stood there in the hallway.
Smelled the sweet flowers in the air.
The air freshener, bitter.
He looked over at the kitchen door. Saw the spot he’d stabbed her in the stomach, his sweet life.
And then the room beside.
The little boy’s room.
He smiled.
“Sorry,” the woman said, making him jump a little.
“Oh,” Seth said. “Sorry. Excuse my nosiness. I shouldn’t have come in here.”
She looked at him, a bit uncertain, piece of paper in hand.
Then she handed it over.
“This… this is where he moved to. I hope it’s helpful.”
Seth looked down at the address.
Looked back at the woman and smiled.
“Thank you. Really.”
He turned around to the front door.
He knew he should just walk away. Just go, without saying anything else.
And then he stopped because he couldn’t help himself.
“Someone died here, you know?”
He looked around at her.
Saw the way her eyes stared at him.
That baby boy crying in her arms.
“Anyway,” Seth said, cutting through the tension in the air. “Thank you for the address. You’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know.”
And before the woman could say another word, he stepped outside the door, out into the world again.
He looked down at the note in his hand.
Smiled.
He knew exactly where he needed to go.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Max couldn’t describe the relief he felt when he saw his house right up ahead.
It was morning, and it was bright. Sunny. And even though it was slap bang in the middle of winter, he actually felt pretty warm. He knew it was probably just the fact he’d been walking all night. But this was the first day of a new year. And in a way, the first day of a new way of life.
And as terrifying as that notion was… he’d made this place home. And that gave him some source of optimism.
Because the whole part of the journey he was scared about most was getting out of the city. Especially on New Year’s Eve. Getting out of the city and getting back home.
And sure. It wasn’t perfect here. He had things stocked up here. Things that would help him survive. He had supplies. And he had skills.
But it wouldn’t be enough. He’d have to take trips out. Supply runs. If this blackout really was as bad as it seemed—and he had no reason to believe it wasn’t pretty damned serious—then he was in a good position. He had a head start.
But things were going to get very nasty in the cities very fast. And he was glad to be far, far away from it all.
“This your home?”
Max heard Aoife’s voice, and he looked around. It’d been a tiring night, and it showed on Aoife’s face. She looked pale. Seriously worn out.
But then he supposed he wouldn’t look too pretty, either. It’d been an exhausting ordeal. The pain. The loss.
And as Max looked at Aoife, as he looked at the dog, Rex, he never thought he’d find himself admitting this, but he actually kind of liked her company.
He hadn’t thought about the future yet. He hadn’t thought about the next step. He was pretty set on being alone. After all, that was the best way. Not just for him, but for everyone.
But seeing Aoife standing here, seeing Rex between them… he couldn’t deny that there was something about their company he enjoyed.
And that scared him. Because this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. This wasn’t the way he was supposed to live his life. He was supposed to be on his own now. He wasn’t supposed to make connections. He wasn’t supposed to like people.
And he wasn’t even sure what it was about Aoife he liked. She definitely seemed a bit stuck up. A bit rude. And he’d probably ended up in the shit more because of her, because of the battles she’d got herself caught up in.
Was it that there was something about her that reminded him of Kathryn?
A younger Kathryn?
He swallowed a lump in his throat. He couldn’t think of Kathryn. Thinking of Kathryn just brought pain. And it took him down a road he didn’t want to go down.
“This is my place,” Max said.
Aoife smiled. “Seems nice. Perfect for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“Someone who isn’t exactly going to be hosting barbecues for the neighbours.”
“Hey,” Max said, walking slowly towards his detached house now. Trees all around. The house itself, a little worn, a little tired. Needed a bit of work doing. Work he had no real motivation to do. “I used to host a mean barbecue back in the day.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Could start a barbecue out of nothing. That’s the problem. People think they need all this fancy as fuck equipment to get one going. But it’s nature’s gift. Fire.”
“Well, if the power stays out long enough, you might find yourself hosting a few more barbecues.”
“Nah,” Max said. “My hosting days are over.”
“Me and Rex might want to join you, though. And hey. I’m decent at hunting, from what I can remember from being a kid, anyway. Stuff my dad taught me.”
Max felt caught. Caught at a crossroads. He thought the girl might be hinting. Hinting at wanting to stay.
But then there was this roadblock. This roadblock he’d erected himself. A roadblock that stopped him wanting to let anyone else in.
“Don’t you have a family to get back to or anything?”
Aoife smiled. “My dad died a few years back. I never knew my mum. I grew up with my auntie for the bulk of my childhood. And my brother… well. We never really kept in touch.”
She paused a bit there. Glanced at Max. Like there was something she wanted to say to him, something she was holding back.
“Got a problem?”
“No,” Aoife said. “It’s just… well. Knowing what happened to your family. Kind of unsure whether I want to ask if you have any more family out there.”
Max sighed. “Younger sister was a spoiled brat. Parents both dead.”
“Any friends?”
Max frowned. “Do I look like the sort of guy who keeps friends?”
“Fair point.”
They walked further, go
t closer to Max’s house. And Max got the sense that there was a question in the air, lingering. An unasked question that Aoife wanted to raise.
A question he wanted her to delay because he wasn’t sure how he was going to answer.
“Where you living now?” Max asked.
“A flat just outside of town. Live there with a few flatmates. I used to be in law, in another life. Gave it all up a few years back to pursue my dream of a zoology degree. Working in safari. Moving to some foreign country and just living with nature. That’s kind of my dream. And it’s the life my dad always wanted me to live, too. Before I got caught up in all the… noise.”
Max heard Aoife’s words, the way she was speaking, and he liked what he was hearing. She spoke the way he thought.
And it made him like her more.
But still, he couldn’t ask the question.
He couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Come on,” he said, looking away. “I’ll show you around. You can… you can rest up here. For a bit.”
She opened her mouth like she was going to protest. And then she smiled. Nodded. The unspoken question still unspoken.
“Sounds good.”
Max opened the door to his house. Stepped inside. Kept his head down, barely wanting to look around because he knew it was a bit of a tip. But why would he tidy up? He only had himself to look after. Didn’t have anyone else to think about.
“Wow,” Aoife said, looking around with wide eyes. “Your place is… nice.”
“Thanks,” Max said, only realising how exhausted he was when he stepped through the door. “Come through to the kitchen. I’ve got a bit of food left over. About time we ate something.”
He walked through to the kitchen when he noticed something.
His lounge door.
It was ajar.
He never left it ajar.
He stood there a few seconds. Stared at that crack in the door. His heart picked up. Adrenaline surged inside. He wasn’t sure what it was. He couldn’t explain it. But something felt wrong. Something just felt… off.
He pushed open the door to his lounge.
Someone was sitting there, on his leather sofa.
A figure that looked familiar.
A silhouette that looked familiar from long ago.
A silhouette he couldn’t place.
