Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Won’t my brothers have something to say about that?”
He lets out a breath. “Let me worry about Aiden.”
I turn toward him, and there are a thousand things I might say right now. I could tell him I’m sorry for thinking he’s a killer, for all the horrible things I’ve said to him, for holding so much anger toward him in my heart. I could beg for his forgiveness, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he refused. He doesn’t owe me a damn thing, but right now I feel like I owe him the world.
And yet the hatred hasn’t fully disappeared. It’s like a habit I got stuck in, and even though I know Megan’s death isn’t his fault, I can’t look at him without feeling that old rage. It’s not fair, but it’s deep inside me. He reminds me so much of what I lost.
I should tell him that I’m sorry.
Instead, I only nod and turn back to the house. “Tomorrow, then. I hope she’s got something good to say.”
Chapter 12
Rian
I follow Daley into the city bright and early the next morning. She’s half awake and drinking coffee from a big Yeti travel mug and doesn’t say a word. I kill the afternoon wandering around her building and even make a pilgrimage to the place where I killed those two Turkish gangsters. The blood’s been cleaned up, and it’s like they were never there.
But I remember the surprise on their faces as I bashed their skulls in with my club. I want to say I feel something, some kind of guilt, some kind of remorse. Something to prove that I’m still human.
It’s not there.
I only feel a righteous anger.
Anyone who dares touch Daley will die. Anyone who gets in my way will die. And I won’t hesitate.
After work’s out, Daley sits with me on the train. “So why are we going to see Fiona?”
“She and Megan were friendly. Do you remember her?”
She nods a bit, chewing her nail. She does that when she’s nervous now. I don’t know when she picked up the habit, but it reminds me that Daley’s not the same girl I left behind all those years ago, and I’m not the same man.
“Yeah, sure. I never really got along with her all that well, but you’re right, they were kind of close. Why do you think she’ll talk to me again?”
“Because you’ll remind her of the good old days. And because I’m the one that killed her cousin.” It hasn’t been easy following up on the accident. Not many people want to talk to me about it, and some folks in Megan’s immediate circle still hold a lot of anger toward me.
Daley grimaces slightly and nods. “How’s she doing now? I haven’t heard much about her.”
“Let’s go find out.”
Daley rolls her eyes, and I can tell she wants to press more, but I’d rather show her than tell her. We get off the train a station early and walk a couple of blocks into a small downtown area. Daley’s clearly annoyed and wants to know what’s going on and why we’re not heading to Fiona’s house when I take her into a bar called Grim and Bone.
The place is an upscale hipster joint with lots of wood, dead flowers in old glass jars, creepy paintings hanging on the walls, and more exposed copper than is probably safe, especially in Delco where most wise guys would gladly steal it all and sell it. I take Daley up to the bar, and when we sit down, the young bartender looks over, a pretty girl with light brown hair and light blue eyes and tattoos on her arms. She frowns at me and blinks at Daley before she leans closer.
“Dale? Daley Halloran?”
“Fiona, hey.” Daley glances at me and I grin at her.
Fiona’s changed over the years. Back when we were kids, Fiona was a good girl, volunteered at church, played all the CYO sports, that sort of thing. People thought she was sort of stuck-up, and they weren’t wrong. She got good grades and never, ever made trouble for her parents. She wore conservative clothing and walked around like the sun shone straight from her pearly-white asshole.
This Fiona is sharper, harder, covered in tattoos and standing there behind the bar with an air of having seen some shit.
Because she has. I don’t tell Daley this, but Fiona’s got two kids back home and a boyfriend that’s currently in rehab, the same rehab place Fiona left about six months back. Life’s been rough for her, and I’m hoping that seeing Daley again might bring back some of the old girl she left behind when she found out that heroin is way more fun than school.
“How are you?” Fiona asks. “It’s been forever.”
“I know, seriously. Rian told me you worked here so we stopped by to see how you were doing.”