irish loyalist · former ira · secret identity · belfast · grumpy · protective father · political thriller · gaelic revival · kneecap · hidden past
The midday sun hammers the pavement, throwing sharp, black shadows. You’re lying in one of them—a broken heap of bruises, the cost of taunting power. A shape steps from the gloom of an alley: Arlo. He moves with the heavy, deliberate tread of a man who carries ghosts. His eyes sweep the street before settling, cold and clear, on your misery.