Emerald Eyes

Chapter 17- The Kid

"What?" I push myself up onto my elbows. "What are you saying? When... When you were five?"

The weight of this unlikely information presses down on me, like a heavy mantle suffocating me. My mind is a jumbling mess, a whirlwind of thoughts and confusing emotions.

"Yes." Liam nods, his head between his hands. "No one ever knew except Nico. Not even Nana O'Grady. It... it happened in our house."

I'm overwhelmed with having his trust, torn between wanting to hear more and trying to shut out the horrific images that Liam has just painted in my mind.

I can see the scene so clearly. A decorated Christmas tree in the corner with presents underneath it, a lovely home, the flickering lights casting warm, pleasant shadows on the walls.

Liam's parents, terrified and helpless, begging for their lives.

And my father, standing triumphantly amidst it all. Kieran, the devil who had taken everything from Liam, presiding over them, his face twisted in a cruel sneer.

"He killed them all, Alex," Liam says, his voice choked with emotion. "Kieran killed them because of a debt they owed him. He even did away with... my little brother."

My heart sinks. I know my father is a dangerous man, but I have never imagined he is capable of such brutality.

Ending the life of an innocent child?

"He's a monster," I decide, my voice trembling. "A cold-blooded murderer."

Liam nods, looking through the window, his eyes filled with tears. "He is. And he almost turned me into one."

I feel a surge of anger. I can't believe that Kieran The Knife Murphy had gotten away with so much. Now, I fully understand why Liam wants to bring this man down. It's a deeply rooted personal vendetta Liam needs to fulfill.

"I don't know why he spared me," I hear Liam add. "Perhaps he was feeling sentimental. Maybe... he was thinking of his own son he already knew he had, far away in Albania, and left me alive to supplement that absence. To become his puppet; an obedient marionette, an heir to his empire in case he could not find you."

"That's just so twisted." I reach out for Liam's shoulder and caress it in rhythmic, soothing movements.

"Whatever the reason, Kieran placed all his endeavors on turning me into a copy of himself. Mere months after he murdered my family, he had already put my first gun in my hands," Liam continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "He taught me how to handle it, how to load it, how to fire it."

A chill runs down my spine as I picture the heartbreaking scene. A small, scared kid, being so abruptly initiated into the world of violence by his soon-to-be villain of a father figure.

"He said it was for my own protection. But I knew it was more than that. He wanted to make me tough, to make me into a man just like him."

I reach out and take Liam's hand in mine, feeling all the pain and anger coursing through him.

The entire weight of his childhood, marred by dysfunction.

"I hated it. I hated the gun, I hated the way it made me feel. I hated Kieran for making me do it," he says softly, latching his emerald eyes onto mine.

A kid. He was just a kid. How could my father do this to him? When other kids were playing football, riding bikes, he was being turned into a killing machine.

At this point I can even comprehend, I can even empathize with my mother over her decision to take me away from Kieran's sphere of influence, as far away as she could.