Let Me (O'Brien Family, #2)(56)

I can’t tell her what’s wrong. I don’t know myself. All I know is that it’s bad.

I ignore the pain of my throbbing knees as I struggle to stand. Finn reaches Tía who’s now in hysterics. Between her sobs and her speaking rapidly in Spanish, I’m not sure how much he understands. But he understands enough: that she just arrived, my mother’s name, and that she’s not moving.

I didn’t run far, but my heart is already ramming against my chest and my breath is burning through my lungs.

“Sol?” Se?ora Segura says, despite recognizing the severity of the situation.

“Call the police,” I tell her in Spanish. I lurch forward only to slide yet again, vaguely aware of the growing numbers of neighbors opening their doors and hurrying out of their homes.

I make it to the bottom of my front steps just as Finn reaches the top. “Stay here,” he barks before charging inside.

The aggression in his voice halts me in place. Something is very wrong. But as much as I’m afraid to see what it is, I can’t do as he asks. I hurry up the concrete steps, stumbling when Tía snags my arm and pulls me back.

“Don’t go inside!” she yells at me in Spanish.

I yank free from her grasp only for someone else to grab me. Tía and others gathered holler to those holding me to keep me back. I push up on my feet, slapping away the sea of hands trying to restrain me and sprint inside.

The heels of my boots slam against the wood floors as I reach our small foyer. I slow to a stop when I realize that no one is following me, and that the house is oddly silent.

“Finn?” I cry out.

It’s like he’s not even here. “Finn?”

I start toward the back when he yells from upstairs.

“Sol!”

His voice is pained, appearing to echo from all sides. “I need you to call an ambulance,” he says over the rushed sounds of his movements. “Do you hear me? I need you to go to your neighbor’s house and call an ambulance.”

He doesn’t want me upstairs. He’s trying to get me to leave. Tears leak from my eyes. This is bad. This is really bad.

I turn to where Tía and a few of the neighbors are huddled at the front door. Mr. and Mrs. Turner are holding Tía up as she sobs. A few of the women are already crying. The men . . . they aren’t much better.

“Sol?” Mr. Toleman extends his hand from where he’s standing beneath the threshold, his face distraught. “Come on out here, baby,” he says. “Come and wait with us outside. The ambulance is already on its way, sweetheart.”

I stare at his hand and the lifeline he’s offering. He wants to spare me from what’s upstairs, from what I might find. I’m already crying. I know I should step outside. But I can’t. That’s my mother up there.

“Sol, no vayas, ni?a,” Tía wails. “Por favor no vayas, mija.”

Don’t go, girl, she says. Please don’t go. But I do. Forcing myself up the battered wood steps until I’m all but running. I slide down the hall, landing on my side, unsure what I slipped on until I see my hands soaked with blood.

For a second, all I can do is stare at the bright red fluid coating my palms. Somehow, I push up on my wobbly legs and stumble forward, halting in place when I reach my parents’ room.

Finn is kneeling on the floor beside my mother, both are covered in blood. His jacket is draped over her body and he’s pressing towels against her arms. “Sol, get downstairs,” he bites out. “Get downstairs now.”

My body checks out, slumping against the door frame as my mind takes in the room. Obscenities written in Spanish with my mother’s blood splatter the walls, while she lies on the floor smiling and repeating the words.

“Mami,” I sob. “What did you do? What did you do?”

I fall beside her, my screams, my demands that she tell me how she could do this to herself―to my father―to me, drowning out Finn’s words and his urges for me to leave.

My mother smiles despite her pallor, staring at the ceiling. I don’t hear the police arrive. All I see is her. But they’re suddenly there, storming in and surrounding us.

“Curran, get her out of here!” Finn hollers at his brother. “I don’t want her to see this!”

My body is lurched backward. I fight to get back as medics speed past me.

“Sol, Sol,” Curran says in my ear. “Don’t fight me. I need you outside, you hear me? Come outside with me so my boys can help her.”

I continue to writhe, trying to fight my way back. But Curran is a big guy and I can’t break free from his hold. He carries me down the stairs, away from the horror, and away from my mother. The cluster of neighbors gathered outside part, covering their mouths when they see me.

“Teo, Teo,” Curran calls when he steps forward. “Take Sol and keep her with you.”

Teo has me, but I don’t see him. I’m crying so hard all I make out is Curran racing back into the house and the police ordering the growing crowd of neighbors back. Teo is talking to me, and Sofia, too. I think Killian is there, but I’m not sure. I’m crying so hard I’m sick down to my gut, wanting to vomit.

I look up when the crowd gasps. Finn, his light blue shirt soaked through with my mother’s blood, robotically walks down the steps; his face ashen. Teo in his shock loosens his hold, allowing me to wriggle free and run to Finn.