37
Ianto
I am not sure what to think. This son of a bitch was in my house. Near my children. If not for Jack… I might have killed him. I still sort of want to but I am trying hard to hold back on my impulse to snatch up the gun and place it to his forehead.
I know it's my father's hand here. This man trying to make out he is just a burglar taking advantage of the blackout but the piece of paper in his pocket with the interior of my house hastily sketched out tells another story. One I want to know more about as Jack shoves it in his pocket quickly, rising to distance himself as the ambulance officers enter and take over, Owen also rising to say he will live, fuck him to hell.
We spend the next few hours of the cold morning with police, fussing and finally our house back. The kids thankfully slept though the elite thing, had that silencer not been attached this might be different but as the last vehicle crunched out of the driveway Jessie slips onto the room with wide eyes, looking around and seeing Jack, then relaxing as he runs to him.
"Dadda, I thought you left me!" the little boy scolded even as he sees him there.
He clung to Jack, so happy he has not gone off on a job without him and Jack crooned as he whispered that it was just the paper man dropping off the paper. Jessie accepts his little white lie, taking some toast and jam back to bed with delight as I really do not allow crumbs in the bed but… I will change the bedding today anyway.
The thought of him in their rooms, touching their little selves fills my mind. The thought he might have even breathed in their rooms… no… all the bedding is going to be changed out for nice fresh, clean linens so… what is a few crumbs eh?
Gwen arrived, her face solemn as Andy goes around the outside with Jack double checking things for the umpteenth time. Not that I blame him, Jack will have his own nightmares about what might have been this morning. Thank god for that power cut.
The keys in the fucker's pocket means he would have entered whether I went out to the Genny or not, at least this way the wet footprints were seen. I go over a good many things in my head, especially Jack saying two sets of wet footprints.
He thinks the second set were mine… I know they were not. I wipe my fucking feet on the mat thanks… besides… I was never in the wet, I stuck to the veranda. Someone else was in the house, someone that now knows we are armed and dangerous, someone that got away.
My blood boils in a very unpleasant way as I quietly call Idris and let him know, also my theory of the footprints. He assured me that will see what he can glean about the shot fucker… once he is in hospital he will … have him visited.
Good.
I am still angry and I know I show it in my stilted movements but the kids are OK, Jack is OK and once Toshiko got me to sit and stop cleaning the bench for the fourth time I know I will be OK too.
For now.
It was them. I know it was. My father… I just do not understand his need to dominate and when he cannot get what he wants he explodes with murderous thoughts. Later comes the remorse, the tearful letters and begging for forgiveness, he's changed, he's found god and had seen the light blah blah … if I get one more of those fake bullshit letters I will go see him alright… to shove it down his throat.
This is my home.
Mine.
He has desecrated it with his paid fuckwits.
I want the other one. I want to know who else has breathed the same air as my sweetling and I know without even discussing it that Jack is on the same page as me. These may as well be his thoughts.
Finally the police are gone bar the stupid little 'protection' crew left. Two uniforms in a car at the front gate. Right. What the hell is that gonna do? No… Idris is coming and he will leave me with someone who knows how to patrol, how to smell out something not right and who will be as full of malice as the sitting opposite me wearing my ring.
Yep.
I want that.
I am so proud of Jack, his quick thinking and I do not even mind the loss of a suit or two. Only things. Stuff. Besides… an excuse to get a fresh cut one now, see his face when I walk in all shiny and new… this place needs cleaning. I will have to wipe everything. If people don't' stop torching my things I may lose my shit and believe me… you do not want this Tiger to show his claws.
This?
Just a clearing of my throat.
Oh yes… when I go silent and stop raging… I will simply rip a fucking throat out.
I swear it!
After all… he is me Da. He should know… I can be a bastard too.
He taught me.