The Richmond Curse - {The Richmond Haunting 2}

Chapter Thirteen

Here, the next day, in a room where Fiona and her family had gathered. That being her father's house with the other mourners. Steven wanted to smack the fucker.

'I don't think this is the place or the time.' Steven said, not even knowing where the conversation had come from. Only that Fiona had warned him about her cousin.

'He likes to cause trouble.'

'I know, but those marks on your daughter's face and the injury to my cousin's lips, it doesn't look good.'

'What are you getting at?'

'C'mon, you don't have to be a genius to work out what's going on.'

Steven didn't like the tone coming from this man. After all, what fucking right did he have to question him in such a manner? He didn't know him from Jack's shit.

And after last night, Steven could kill the next son of a bitch who pushed him too far. He really could.

'Listen here, in under an hour, the woman I love is about to bury her mum, and you think I'm hurting my family? Are for you real?'

'I'm just saying it doesn't look good from where I'm standing.'

In the same room, Fiona, close to her father's side, saw Michael talking to Steven.

It didn't look pretty. 'Is everything okay?'

'Everything's fine; it's just somebody who likes to pass judgment.'

'Hey, I meant no offense, but take a look at her lip and tell me not to worry.'

'Michael, you're barking up the wrong tree; it's not Steven. We're having some problems.'

'At home, what sort of problems, bad neighbours?'

'No, just problems, okay?'

Fiona's answer was straight to the point. Because what else could she say? A devil had belted her? Get real. And thank goodness for the next moment.

Somebody at the window, telling everyone the Hurst had arrived.

Good, really good, because she wanted this day to be over, and done with, and leaving the house with her father, holding his hand. Never had she seen him so broken. She held back the tears with a hand to her mouth, but her father could feel them building up inside.

'It's okay to cry; she was your mum. Just let it out.'

But Fiona didn't, because if she started to cry, everything would come pouring out. The years of torment caused by the old man and the terrible reality. Once her mum was in that hole with no windows, she would never see her again.

So, making their way to the Hurst, Fiona didn't cry. She remained strong throughout the service and the burial.

And then it was the wake.

A more cheerful place because funerals, after all, were to say goodbye, and there at the pub. Steven, with a lager in his hand, asked the girls if they wanted a drink.

'Can I have a cocktail?' Katrina asked.

'Nope, you can have a coke and be grateful.'

It was a long day, and everybody kept asking the same freaking question. Was everything okay at home? Fiona, at one point, had to go outside to get some fresh air because of these questions.

Steven went after her.

'God, I wish they would stop asking me the same question.'

'Yeah, it's starting to get on my nerves. Everyone, asking me, what happened to your face?'