Page 78 of Edge of Unbroken

When I’m done, I linger a moment, waiting for the other woman in the bathroom to finish washing her hands, then follow her out of the restroom. Ever since the incident with Adam last August, when he cornered me in the secluded hallway to the restroom at Murphy’s, I try to avoid going to the bathroom alone. A part of me always expects Adam to just pop up out of nowhere, especially now that I know he’s on the run. He could be anywhere, even here in New York. The thought alone is enough to make my skin crawl.

I wander to the bar rather than back to my table. I figure I’ll let Shane do his thing as he begins the evening shift and just wait for Jack here. It’s two minutes until five, so it can’t be much longer before he arrives.

I sit down on the only empty bar stool and watch as the young-looking bartender closes out some tabs.

“Hey,” a suited guy with graying temples says, nudging my shoulder gently. “I’m leaving for a board meeting. Can you make sure she gets this?” he asks, then points to the fifty-dollar bill on the bar counter while motioning his head toward the bartender.

I nod, then watch him get off the stool and leave.

I exhale noisily through my nose and let my eyes fall shut with the heaviness of the decision I’ve already made. I don’t look while my hand glides over the smooth mahogany of the counter, then gently grasps the bill in my fingers. I pull back slowly, my eyes still closed, lift my hand—and the money—off the counter, then deposit the money in the same pocket where the previously nicked twenty dollars are already burning a hole in my jeans.

The guilt crashes over me like a building collapsing.I’m going to pay this back. As soon as I’m able, I’m going to come back and give the girl her fifty bucks. And I’ll ask Shane whose table I’m sitting at so I can make sure that person gets their twenty dollars, too. Just as soon as I have it. I’m only borrowing, not stealing, I tell myself.

I open my eyes then and notice Jack standing behind the bar, his eyes directed at me as he shrugs off his leather jacket. Oh no, did he see what I just did?

I plaster a tentative smile on my face, raising my hand in greeting. Jack reciprocates my smile and walks over to me. “I’m already aware of your L.A. water request,” Jack says with a nod, his brown eyes warm. “Things are kind of tough right now, huh?”

I study him, attempting to discern whether he knows what I just did, but I can’t read him at all. So I nod. “Yeah, kind of,” I say, and fish the fifty dollars back out of my jeans pocket. I can’t believe I’m flaunting the evidence of my crime, presenting my loot, but I only need thirty dollars to have the full amount Adam demanded. I’m not stealing to enrich myself. I’m going to leave a ten for the other bartender, and a ten for Jack once he makes me my drink. “Could you… could you please break this for me? Into tens?” God, it’s all so wrong.

Jack’s gaze moves to the fifty-dollar bill and lingers there.He knows. I know he knows. Why doesn’t he call me out?I wish someone called me out, forced me to come clean about… everything.

Jack takes the bill. “Yeah, sure,” he says, then looks up at me. “I know we don’t know each other well, and it’s probably none of my business, but if you’re ever in trouble, I happen to know that you have some really good people around you I’m sure you can talk to.”

Jack looks at me for a moment, his face full of warmth and empathy, while I just sit there, unspeaking, before he turns and walks to the register to break the fifty into tens.

Ronan

I spend the rest of the afternoon helping Thomas fix up the barn roof while my grandfather and Elias are out sectioning off the pastures to allow the soil to recover. It’s long after sunset by the time I make it back to the house. My muscles ache from the strenuous work, but it’s the kind of ache I relish, the kind you only get from working hard. It’s the kind of work that lets you shut off your mind completely, the kind that ensures a solid night’s sleep because of the sheer exhaustion.

“Shoes off, wash hands, come eat,” my grandmother calls to me when I step in the house.

I do as she says, then join her, the rest of my family, and Thomas and Elias at the dinner table. “Have you seen Randi?” I ask my grandmother as she passes me the plate with the steaks. I immediately pass it on to Colin, who eagerly stabs a piece with his fork.

“She hasn’t come down yet.”

“I should go check on her,” I say and push my chair back.

My grandmother’s hand on my arm stops me. “I already did. She’s still fast asleep. I also put a glass of water and some aspirin on her nightstand for when she wakes up, along with a change of clothes.”

“So, what happened?” my aunt Erin asks. “Why is Miranda here?”

“Ran picked her up in town. She was passed out when he carried her into the house,” my grandmother says. I can tell she’s trying hard to keep her voice neutral.

My grandmother is one of the kindest people I know, and she will go above and beyond for people, but that doesn’t mean she does it without judgment. Randi has always had it hard with my grandma, who’s a hard-working, god-fearing, rather traditional person. She never understood how Randi could be so rebellious with a father who’s a pastor. My grandma was never a fan of my relationship with Randi, partly because I was so young and Randi so much older than me.

“Is she okay?” Erin asks, her eyes locked on me.

“I’m not sure,” I say. “She said her father kicked her out a couple of nights ago, but she didn’t go into detail.”

My grandma scoffs. “Probably because she couldn’t talk properly.”

“I heard that John found Father Jackson in a similar state outside of Wiley’s liquor store about a week ago,” Martin says.

My grandmother drops her utensils, her fork and knife clinking against the nice china of her dinner plate. “What?”

“Oh, yeah,” Martin says, his mouth full. He swallows. “I guess it’s been a more regular occurrence lately.”

“But I thought he had been sober?” my grandmother asks, slightly embarrassed.

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