Blue eyed vengeance

uiet sorrow of those who had come to pay their respects.Connor Matthews stood at a distance, his gaze fixed on the freshly dug grave. He wasn't a man of crowds or forma

eed answers."For a long moment, Chicki stood there, the rain washing over him, mingling with his tears. Finally, with a nod of resignation, he stepped back, giving Connor the space he so desperately craved.Connor watched the last of the mourners drift away, their figures disappearing into the mist. The cemetery was quiet now, the only sound the relentless patter of rain on stone and soil. He stood there for what felt like hours, his mind a whirl of grief and anger, before finally tearing his gaze away from Jim's grave.His clothes were soaked through, his hair plastered to his forehead, but he felt numb to the cold. Every step away from the grave felt like a betrayal, but he knew he couldn't stay forever. With one last, lingering look at the headstone, he turned and walked away, the weight of his promise heavy on his shoulders.The walk through the rain was long and silent, the drops easing to a drizzle as he reached the familiar streets. He kept his head down, the memories of Jim's home flashing through his mind-once a place of warmth and safety, now a crime scene marked by violence and loss. Jim hadn't just been killed; he had been tortured. The brutality of it gnawed at Connor's insides, fueling his need for answers.Connor didn't head back to his apartment. Instead, he made his way to the bar that had been a second home to both him and Jim. The dim lights and the low hum of conversation were a stark contrast to the cold, wet night outside. He pushed open the door, the warmth inside wrapping around him like a blanket, but it did little to thaw the ice in his veins.Lisa looked up from behind the bar, her expression softening when she saw him. She gave a small nod, understanding without words, and poured him a drink. Connor took the glass and found a corner table, away from the few patrons scattered around. He sat down heavily, staring into the amber liquid, his thoughts a turbulent storm.He took a long sip, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the pain in his heart. He could hear Jim's voice in his mind, the steady reassurance that had always been there to guide him. But now, those memories were tainted by the image of