Where the Streets have no Name (4 page)

True to his word, Daniel returned shortly after he left, though he gave her enough time to collect the mess of her emotions. In one hand he gripped the handle of her small suitcase. In the other he lovingly cradled the dark grey and indigo marble urn, which he placed on the night table beside her. Amelia felt like another deluge of tears might come, but mercifully, nothing happened.

With his help, she hobbled to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As she picked up her sky-blue flannel pajamas with little fluffy sheep, Amelia wished she had a more sophisticated style.
She always picked comfort over fashion and that wasn’t likely to change any time soon. Especially during this trip, spending so much time in a car driving around the coast.

Sheep-pajamas on, teeth brushed, face washed
, and hair brushed, Amelia hopped on one leg out of the bathroom. Daniel stood by the door, waiting for her. Embarrassing, but sweet at the same time. Any other man in his position might use the time to go through her things, steal whatever he could of value, and leave, taking the rental car with him. But not Daniel.

Bending
at the knee, he scooped her into his arms and carried her the few steps to the bed. His strong male scent seduced her senses. Tight knots of muscles bunched against Amelia where he held her. The short trip shook her more than she was willing to admit.

“You going to be al
l right if I make myself scarce for a few minutes?”

Her eyes shot to his and she knew he could read the fear in her gaze.
“Where are you going?”

The corner of his mouth pulled back in a
mischievous half-grin. “Just to have a wash.”

“O
h, okay.” She giggled nervously.

Why did it
matter if he wanted to leave? She couldn’t hold him hostage. But she now felt responsible for Daniel.

After a light and playful tousle of her hair, he slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. Seconds later, she heard the water running. Amelia took the opportunity
to reach for her smartphone on the night table. Opening a search window, she took a fleeting look at the bathroom door before breaking into a man’s privacy.

Her fingers flew over the keys as she typed.
She inserted four words – two she knew and two she guessed.

Daniel + Ireland + prison sentence

The results were heart-wrenching. Amelia read with her stomach lodged in her throat.

Daniel Byrne, seventeen years old of Ballydoon, Co. Galway, sentenced to twenty years for the most horrific bombing since the early 1980’s. Three expecting women were having tea when the device exploded and all of them lost their babes that day. Countless others were injured during the attack. Many are pleased with the verdict although most hope for a stronger sentence…

There was more and she
skimmed through each article, wondering if there was a scrap of truth to any of this. Of his twenty year sentence, he served fifteen years. Today was his first day of freedom since he was a teenager.

And then
, she came upon a double feature. The first part detailed a cover-up, placing blame for the bombing solely on a boy who had no more experience with explosives than he did with sewing a quilt. At least someone else out there couldn’t imagine Daniel instigating such a horrendous event.

The second part of the double article
told of an act so atrocious, bile rose into her mouth. His mother, father and two younger sisters were murdered and the suspects were never named, nor arrested due to a very suspicious lack of evidence. God, how could people be so horrible? Those four did absolutely nothing wrong and…

Amelia did her best to force down the lump in her throat
but it was like a fist of emotions clogging, squeezing, choking…

T
he bathroom door opened. Amelia pressed and held the red button, shutting down the device. Daniel stepped into the room, a dry towel wrapped around his waist. Thick, corded muscle rippled as he furiously scrubbed a towel over his hair. Just like she imagined. Daniel looked like a god. Only, his perfect torso was peppered with the same little nicks as his face, though much more pronounced.

“Amelia? Are you
okay?”

No
, she wanted to say.

No, because I wish I could take
all of your hurt and pain away.

I wish I could give you the last fifteen years of your life back
.

T
he man had the second half of his life taken away from him. She tried not to imagine everything he missed out on, but a few of those things invaded her head anyways. Movies he missed, world events, sports, advancements in…everything. And who knew what else. They stole far too much from him and it hit her like a slap in the face.

“God, you’re trembling, love.
” Daniel framed her face with his hands. “Give us a minute to find something to wear, and I’ll be right back.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and stood up, rummaging through his backpack.

He didn’t do what they said, he couldn’t have.
Daniel didn’t make, set, or detonate that bomb. She would bet her entire bank balance that Daniel didn’t know even half of the components in the most basic of incendiary devices.

No, Daniel Byrne was kind and sweet and
thoughtful and selfless. During her perusal of news articles on him, she noticed that his release date was today. He truly had nowhere to go and if she hadn’t taken that road at that time…

Amelia didn’t want to think what might have happened to the man.
People were probably still very enraged by the bombing but it didn’t give them the right to retaliate against Daniel. Knowing how legendary an Irish temper could become first hand, thanks to her Nan, Poppa, and Mom, at least one person would take a shot at him. Just like they did to his family.

Amelia knew
in her heart he didn’t do it, and her time in Ireland would be used for more than the two planned projects now. She made a mental note to send an e-mail to the investigator she used when she required information, and needed it obtained legally. He was always discreet and, much to her delight, always found out what he needed to.

Daniel stood in the doorway to the bathroom, shrouded by darkness. “Erm, I’ve only got these shorts to sleep in, I hope that’s
fine?”

She laughed behind her hand
s, glad they quit shaking. “It’s fine.”

“I er, I don’t
think you understand. They’re…quite small. I’ve not worn them in nearly twenty years,” the catch in his voice belied any façade he attempted to create.

When she spoke, Amelia kept her voice calm, her tone even
. “Daniel, it doesn’t matter. We can get you some new things tomorrow”– She held her hand up when he stepped into the room and opened his mouth to interrupt her –“and I won’t take no for an answer. Come on, let’s see if there’s anything to watch on TV before we call it a night.” She patted the spot next to her on the bed.

She
let her eyes follow his progress, taking in every inch of him. It’s not like she was a sex starved maniac who would jump any man. She couldn’t help but stare at him. And yeah, those shorts were small, but
wow
could he pull them off. The form-fitting fabric strained taught over his muscular backside. Her tongue dried up. He was the first man she had witnessed in this state of undress. The man made her sweat inside her damned flannel PJs.

Daniel dropped onto the bed, co
vering himself with the blanket. “Told you they’re small.”

Amelia said nothing. She picked up the remote
, grinning, and began her search for something to watch.

“Are you not bothered then?”

She turned, eying his chest. She was bothered, all right. But not the way he thought.

“Not in the slightest,” Amelia lied, wetting her lips.

“Hmph.” Daniel folded tree-trunk thick arms over his chest.

The action brought out his abs. One, two, three, four…six, seven…eight! An eight pack? Was that a thing?
Did guys get eight packs?

“Are you
…” Daniel cleared his throat “…counting my abs?”

Amelia jerked her head in the direction of the TV. “What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Don’t get caught counting his abs again!

She’d have to be careful next time.

The
warm weight pressing on her back had vanished. Amelia sat up, throwing off the covers to feel around in the bed. Where the heck was she? A hotel?

No. A
bed and breakfast, that’s right, in Ireland. Then she remembered Daniel – the heavy and warm thing. Flicking on the light, her eyes scanned the room but he wasn’t there. Had he left, without saying goodbye?

His
backpack still sat on the desk. Maybe he simply went out for a walk? If she had been incarcerated for fifteen years, Amelia would take advantage of the freedom. She would want to be outside in the fresh, night air, looking out over the sea.

Turning
off the light, she took a deep breath and hobbled over to the couch by the open window. A tall, dark figure stood by the edge of the water. She knew it was him, trying to enjoy his liberty. As if he sensed her, Daniel turned and held up his hand, giving a quick wave. Amelia grinned, waving back. It didn’t matter how many times she attempted to imagine what he must have been through, she had trouble conceiving what it was like for him in prison. And the honest to goodness truth, she didn’t want to know.

A few minutes passed and Amelia left the window, climbing back into bed.
Soon after, the door opened with a click, and shut with a click. Daniel’s heavy footsteps moved to the foot of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight; Amelia sucked in a deep breath and wondered if she should ask if he wanted to talk.

Talk about what? Where he just came from? What he went through?

The guy didn’t know her. Why would he tell her anything?

“Eh, are you sure you’re okay with me sleeping next to you?” he whispered, leaning his weight on the other end of the mattress.

“It’s fine, Daniel.” She turned and held the covers up. When he hesitated, she sighed, grabbing his arm.

His bare arm. His very bare and
very muscular arm.

She looked up.
Slivers of moonlight danced over his body, illuminating every chiseled muscle on his abdomen. Eight of them. He definitely had eight of them.

“Get in this bed, or so help me…”

Chuckling, Daniel slid between the sheets. “Bossy lass…”

Amused by the easy-going banter
, Amelia stuck out her chin and said, “So what if I am? Doesn’t make a difference. You still need rest. You look exhausted. So, you know, shut up, get in here, relax, and sleep.”

A slow spreading grin stretched across his lips. “Like I said, bossy lass.
And yes, I am exhausted.” He released a sigh, dropping down next to her.

His warmth surrounded her, blanketed her. Hard muscles brushed against her hands, searing her fingertips.
Blood rushed erratically through her veins. Heart slammed against her ribs. Their gazes locked.

“
Eh, Amelia?”

“Yeah?” Her reply was breathless. Needy.

“I…” His hesitation startled her. “Eh, well, thanks. I-is what I wanted to say.”

All nervousness vanished, replaced with a deep and unsettling need to comfort him. Amelia flung her arms around his neck. Space between them ceased to exist. She hugged him
using her whole body and whole heart.

Daniel stiffened; hard as granite in her arms. Then he relaxed and wrapped his steel arms around her
. She felt the words he couldn’t say. Knew what he meant. In that moment she wished with all her might that money was the answer to his problems. Amelia had all the money in the world but it didn’t take away the injustices Daniel faced.

The next morning after a
big room service breakfast, Amelia and Daniel took turns in the shower and then he helped her down to check out. She didn’t give him a chance to speak, just told him to get in the car and handed him the keys.

Daniel drove south with instructions to stop at the n
ext town to buy clothing. Half an hour later, they arrived in Drogheda and parked in front of a small store.

“I shouldn’t be goin’ in there,” he said, staring at the steering wheel.

“It’s okay.” Amelia reached for the seatbelt. “Just tell me your sizes and I can–”

“Don’t be daft. I’ll not
have you hobbling ‘round on your knee, makin’ things worse.”

“So bring me in with you and I’ll sit on a chair near the changing rooms.”

Daniel laughed. “You think there’s going to be a chair waiting in there for you?”

“Why wouldn’t there be one?”

“Little girl, I dunno where you’ve come from or what things are like in whatever place it is you live, but this is a small shop – a boutique shop. I highly doubt they’ve got chairs waitin’ for people to sit on near the dressing rooms.”

“Whatever.”
She shook her head. “Don’t argue with me. Get in there, get yourself some clothes, and come back out. Simple. And I’m not a little girl.”

“Bloody bossy lass,” he mumbled, pushing the driver’s side door open and exiting the car. One last look, then he shut the door and turned to the store.

Daniel’s hulking frame slipped through the door and into the small store. She watched him in a combination of respect and longing, tinged with a hint of sadness.

She checked the
world clock app on her phone for the time back home. Too early to call and check in. Instead she fired off an email to let them know she was fine. After that, she emailed a trusted friend to investigate the charges against Daniel. If she was going to help him fight for his future, she needed all the facts.

Twenty minutes after he entered the store, Daniel returned to the car carrying a bag in each hand.
“There,” he said, dropping into the driver’s seat. His shoulders hunched over; this time out of exhaustion.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Amelia reached for him, but thought better of the action at the last moment.
She wanted to touch him. She wanted to treat him the way he deserved to be treated. She wanted to see him smile again.

“It was horrid. Shopping is the worst.”

She smiled. “On that note, you and I agree.”

Daniel treated her with an amazed stare. “You’re a lass though.”

“So? I’m more comfortable with computers than people, and shopping involves going out in public, where there are lots of people.”

Again, he shook his head in amazement. “You don’t like crowds?”

“They make me itch. And most of the time in public, I feel like I could throw up, to be totally honest.”

Daniel laughed.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. Some people like the quiet. Prefer it.” He paused and the moment drew out. “So…where to now?”

Amelia shrugged. She had no route in mind when she
took on the task granted to her. All she knew was her final destination – Malin Head – and she didn’t want to get there too quickly. “Is there someplace in particular you need to be?”

“Eh…” Daniel scrubbed a hand through his hair
. “No, not really. And, besides,” his words hastened, “you can’t be driving about with your knee as it is, can you?”

“No,
I can’t,” she agreed. “So I guess that means you’re stuck with me then, huh?”

A bubble of
tense laughter shook his shoulders. “Uh, that’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.”

Her smile came smooth and easy. Amelia reclined the seat.
“Okay then, it’s settled. You and I are driving around the coast of Ireland.”

Daniel sighed but she caught traces of relief in the sound. Knowing what she knew about him, she didn’t blame the guy.

“Just drive south. Take the scenic route. I’m not in any hurry, if you’re not.”

She meant the question as a challenge.
Daring him to stay.

“Fine,” he said and turned the key. “Fine.”

Secretly, Daniel was glad to keep by the water. Driving alongside the River Boyne gave him a sense of peace. The fluidity of water made him feel freer. He drove until the river emptied out in Muir Éireann, or what Amelia might call the Irish Sea. It called to him, summoning him to the beach.

Parked
at the edge of the dirt road close to the water, he shut the car down, leaving the keys in the ignition, and stretched out as much as the small vehicle allowed. “Do you uh, do you mind if we just walk along the beach for a bit?”

“Actually, that sounds good. I have something I need to do. Well”– She looked over her shoulder at the urn
strapped into the back seat –“every so often I need to stop at the water and…and sprinkle…”

Ah hell. Bad enough she had no one here, but the lass took on the task of spreading her grandfather’s remains.
He never got the chance to pay his respects when his family was killed. No one mentioned a damned bloody thing to him for months. He found out through gossiping twat-faced guards too long after the fact.

“We’ll take a walk then,” he said, mostly to push out the rage bubbling in his chest. “We’ll take a walk and when we find the perfect place, you can…”

He couldn’t say the words.

A little hiccup, then a deep, shuddering sigh. Amelia grabbed his hand, clutching tight.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then lifted his hand to her lips and grazed his knuckles. “Thank you.”

Damn, but he wished he knew a way to take her pain from her. He’d bear it
all just to see a permanent smile on her pretty lips.

They walked in silence along the beach. Moist chill air hung around them, heavy with the tang of the sea. Daniel carried the urn in one arm and held Amelia up with the other. He shouldn’t feel so grand with her arm around his waist, but damn, he did.

Had he never walked down the street like this with a lass? He couldn’t recall. There’d been his sort-of girlfriend Roisin, but she was different. She wasn’t as soft and sweet at Amelia. She never had his heart rear-ending his ribs.

His entire life fast-forwarded before his eyes. All the things he missed. Every sunrise and sunset. Seasons changing. Holidays. Birthdays. His family…

Pain slammed into his chest, tearing up his insides like a rogue hurricane.

Focus on walking
, he told himself.
Focus on Amelia
. Aye, he’d do that.

A good while later,
Amelia stood at his side, staring into the open urn. Jaysus, he didn’t blame her for hesitating. While others might feel revulsion at the thought of scooping a handful of ashes into their hands, they both knew it was different. Inside this container was all that remained of a person she loved. A person who once lived and breathed. Made of flesh and blood and bones and muscle.

Someone who laughed and cried, who had hopes and dreams. Someone important. It wasn’t the thought of sticking her hand in and touching his ashes that tore at Amelia’s soul, but the though
t of letting them go afterwards; of releasing them to the wind and watching pieces of that loved one vanish before her eyes.

Daniel didn’t sing. He never sang, except at church, as a boy. The only songs he knew were hymns. Maybe that was fitting for this moment?

No, a stupid idea it was. But what should he do? The moment called for something…

“I miss you, Pops,” Amelia whispered, reaching in to take a handful of ashes in her small fingers. She sniffed, lifted her head, and walked to the edge of the water. Once there she released the ashes, scattering them into the wind and sea. Releasing part of her Poppa back into the world; in all the places he loved.