Dee's POV:
My name is Delilah Anne MacManus. People say I mostly take after my mother with most of her characteristics, physical looks and personality included. I had inherited her chocolate brown locks of long hair, her emerald green eyes that my father adored and somehow became the more practical one between me and my sister Isabella.
Our mother always used to joke that the twin with the bigger breasts was the elder one, so I begrudgingly came to terms that the older one had to be Isabella. But, we both had similar reactions to being told what our Da and dear Uncle "Muffy" did whenever they had to leave us for long periods of time.
My father and uncle were vigilantes in the name of God…? And Ma had been raped shortly before being saved by them. Barely any of it could be figured out in my head, and usually I was the deep thinker of the two of us, me and Izzy.
After Isabella ran out onto the front porch with a pale face, I found myself suddenly clutching onto my mother, sobbing out muffled words as I buried my face into her shoulder since I was about as tall as she was.
Now I knew my mother was the strongest woman I had ever known and I looked up to her for as long as I could remember. But, after knowing all the terrible things she had to endure just to get to this point in life, it was more than my comparably weak 18-year-old psyche could take.
As I heard my father attempt to comfort me in the Italian tongue, I wrenched myself away from my parents and went toward the back door of our modest cottage, heading straight to the one place where I could be alone and let out my emotions where nobody would see me.
I could hear my father calling out for me with concern, but Ma broke him off by insisting that I needed some solitary time in my special breakdown place.
The horse stable…
The huge equine creatures whinnied and neighed once they sensed my presence. My personal favorite was a fiery filly whom I had named Juliet after the title heroine in the famous Shakespeare story. Her dark eyes immediately sought me out as I grabbed a nearby wooden stool and placed it in front of her stall door.
Sitting myself down onto the seat, I heard Juliet nicker in concern as I looked up into her oval shaped eyes. They say most animals can sense the emotions of humans, especially horses.
The tears began to pour down my face as I stood up and gently placed my fingers along the filly's black muzzle. She slowly bobbed her nose up so that I was touching her with the palm of my hand. It was as if she was trying to comfort me and assuring me that everything would be okay.
What really concerned me was if I could really accept that my father, uncle and my own mother had human blood on their hands, that of those who did evil.
Destroy all that which is evil so that which is good will flourish…
Those words rumbled behind me as I heard the stable door creak open. Turning around to see the intruder, I saw my father standing in the doorway, his tall and strong form illuminated by the evening light outside.
"Delilah, darlin', can we please talk about this?" His voice was gentle and deep, coaxing me into the safety of his paternal tenderness.
"Aye, Da. I'm sorry fer bargin' off like that. Is Izzy alright?" I asked him, walking closer toward the Irishman.
"She's a lil' shaky and she's got a bit of a fever. Yer Uncle Murph just put her in bed." His eyes suddenly blazed with worry when he saw my eyes alight with more emotional tears. "Sweetheart, its okay. She's a strong lass, she'll just need a couple days o' rest."
"No, Da. Its just that…" I tried to explain as the ridiculous sadness along with teenage girl hormones kept me from getting the words out.
"Hey, hey." My father crooned out as he took my hand and pulled me toward the stool by Juliet's stall. He sat down on it and positioned me to perch upon his leg like I was six years old again. He didn't say anything more as I continued to cry, his protective arms enfolding around me. The blond Irishman patiently waited for me to stop sobbing like a baby, just holding me like any good parent would do for their daughter.
I felt him kiss my tear-stained cheek as I finally regained some womanly dignity, all the while still sitting on my father's lap.
"Da…did ya ever…kill any good people?" I asked him in a shaking voice.
"No, o' course not. We also never killed any women or kids, either." He brushed back a stray piece of brown hair from my forehead before planting a kiss on it. "Darlin', ya gotta understand that one o' the reasons we did what we did was because they were the kind o' men who did horrible things to us before you an' Izzy were born. Ya don't know how angry I was when Murph an' I first found yer Ma and the terrible things one o' those bastards did to her. Do ya understand what I'm sayin'?"
He was doing his best to keep his voice low so as to not scare me, but I began to comprehend his words.
"Aye, I think I do. So yer sayin' that the more bad guys ya kill, the less likely me, Izzy, Mary-Kate an' Ma will be found by them." I wiped away another stray tear as he nodded his head in agreement.
"Exactly." He smiled sadly, showing a couple of dimples that formed at the corners of his mouth. "All o' you girls are the most precious things to me an' yer Uncle Murph." As he said that, he placed one of arms behind my back and the other under my knees, slowly lifting me up in his arms as if I were a child again.
"Da, I can walk okay, ya know?" I grinned brightly as I put my arms around his neck in instinctive feeling, even though I knew he would never drop me.
"What? Yer sayin' yer not a 'Daddy's girl' anymore?" He teased me as he walked out of the stable and onto the grass leading back to the house.
"Well, ya never know when a boy could show up at the door, wantin' to take me or Izzy out on a date." I patted his shoulder in a half-mocking way as he pretended to pout.
"All I can say to that, darlin', is that Murph an' I will be preparin' some o' our guns so we can give the lad a proper MacManus greetin'." My father laughed deeply as he carried me toward the house, relishing the moment between us.
I giggled with him, enjoying the security of being in my father's arms, one of the safest places I would ever be in my life.
