What Have You Done(89)

Liam tried to stand, but Vanessa was fast, moving right along with him and aiming the gun at him. He sat back down as beads of sweat began to run down his face. “We could’ve worked things out the right way. We were seeing a therapist. It was working. People didn’t have to die.”

Vanessa shook her head. “This is how it has to end. You couldn’t have been clearer at the hospital. We’re over. I get it now.”

“Please, Vanessa. You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m sorry, Liam, but I do.”

“Vanessa, I—”

The shot rang out in the quiet house. Liam felt the impact of the bullet rip into his chest, then found himself tumbling backward onto the floor. As soon as his head hit the coarse area rug at the edge of the dining room, he heard the front door burst open.

“Freeze! Drop your weapon!”

It was Phillips. He recognized his voice as clearly as when the lieutenant had tackled him in Sean’s backyard. But before he could react, a second shot was fired, and Liam felt another bullet explode in his hip and lower stomach. As his consciousness began to fade, he heard more gunfire erupt, but that was all in the background, somewhere far from where he was, somewhere in a reality he was no longer a part of. He was caught in a dream now. Just before he closed his eyes, he saw Vanessa collapse next to him, her eyes open, staring at him, yet vacant. Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. He tried to call out to her but couldn’t speak. She remained next to him, unmoving.

Then blackness.





EPILOGUE

One Year Later

Liam sat on one side of the scratched and cracked Plexiglas window, waiting for his brother to be escorted in by one of the guards. He had the phone receiver in his hand, waiting to talk. He hadn’t seen Sean since the trial, and his attempts to talk with him thus far had been met with refusals and silence. Letters had gone unanswered. Messages had gone unreturned. But Liam would not relent. Not now. Not after all that had taken place. Vanessa had been right about one thing. No one should have to be alone in prison. Liam would be there for his brother.

The security door buzzed. Liam straightened up in his seat and placed the phone receiver to his ear. A lone guard walked into the prisoner’s side of the communication room and sat down where Sean should’ve been. He took the receiver from the wall.

“He won’t come out.”

Liam nodded. “You told him it was me?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t want to see you. Just like all the other times.”

“Has anyone else come to visit?”

“Nope.”

Liam leaned in closer toward the scratched window. “Can you give him a message for me?”

“Always do.”

“Tell him I’m not going to stop coming. I’m not giving up. It’s my turn to be there for him. Tell him to deal with it. That’s just the way it’s gonna be. We’re family, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks.”

The guard paused for a moment. “I gotta hand it to you,” he said. “If my brother did all that to me, I’d let him rot in here.”

“I know,” Liam replied. “You wouldn’t understand. What we’ve been through together is bigger than both of us. Besides, he’s my brother. He needs me. I’ll be here.”



The sun was warm on his skin.

“Dwyer!”

The voice boomed around him, distant at first.

“Dwyer! Wake up!”

Sean looked up from his place on the picnic table at the far end of the prison yard. Exercise was over. The other inmates were getting in line to walk back inside. They were waiting on him. One of the guards, a large man in both height and girth, stood with the prisoners, screaming from across the yard, jarring him from his nap.

“Dwyer! Lift your head off the table, and get moving before I come over there with my pepper spray!”

It was late May at the federal correctional complex in Allenwood, Pennsylvania. Sean was three months into a triple life sentence for the murders he had committed. Vanessa was dead. He was the lone survivor of their crimes.

It had taken several weeks to recover after taking the two bullets, but he was eventually brought into custody and booked. After another two months of physical therapy, he had been strong enough to go before a jury and had stood trial. A guilty verdict came within thirty minutes of deliberation.

Sean pushed himself off the picnic table and happened to look up and out, past the first line of fencing, toward the acres of woods that surrounded the prison. He saw a figure standing at the fence, alone, looking at him, its head pressed against the mesh. He shielded his hands from the sun and tried to get a better look.

“Dwyer!” the guard called. “You got ten seconds to get your ass over here, or you’re getting dragged into line, and it’s gonna hurt.”

Sean backed away from the table toward the others who waited but continued staring at the man who stared at him. A twinge of familiarity suddenly struck, and he knew.

“Liam.”

The guard left the back of the line and started toward the prisoner who refused to cooperate.

Sean took a step toward the fence. “Liam?” he said, louder this time.

The figure continued to stare. Then he waved. Just once.

“Liam!”