Page 55 of Highballs & Hexes

“Give up Fionola?” Every bit of air escaped his lungs and refused to be recaptured. All he could do was gasp. The weight of doing what was right versus what he desired was crushing. How did he let her go after it took so long to find her? He’d waited a bleeding lifetime.

“I don’t think I can,” he croaked.

Yet he’d been prepared to when he believed she loved Noah. Could he do it if she forgot he existed, knowing she was safe and happy with another? Dare he request that of Anu? Consideringit was destroying his will to live, and he longed for the shadowy corner of a cell so he didn’t have to think.

“The choice is yours,” Anu told him with a caress of his cheek. “You’ll have until midday two days hence to let me know your answer.”

In a burst of twinkling lights, she was gone, leaving him to wrap his freshly healed mind around what must be done.

Restitution.

That fucking ugly word.

CHAPTER 24

“You’ve been quiet since your conversation with Anu,” Fi said later that night. “Do you want to discuss it?”

“No.” He sipped his pint of plain and surveyed the packed pub. Lucky O’Malley’s was bursting at the seems, and he was positive they were over the legal limit allowed in an establishment.

“Patrick.”

Fi’s low-voiced censure brought his head around, and he met her concerned expression with a grimace.

“There’s naught to discuss, love. I’ve a choice to make, and it’s not one I’m chuffed to be making.”

Reaching across the table, she clasped his hand between both of hers. “And does that choice have something to do with me? Because you haven’t been able to look me in the eye since speaking with Anu.”

“Can we leave off arguing tonight?Please?” He didn’t want their last two nights together to be filled with turmoil. Rather they have a few drinks, fall into bed—if only to cuddle—and part with sorrow, if it came to that, than go round about a decision he wasn’t prepared to make.

Releasing him, she sat back. Disappointment and hurt were stamped on her face, and Patrick felt like a right proper bastard for causing her pain. Making an impulsive decision, he stood and downed his drink. Then, he moved to her side of the table and leaned in to kiss her.

“I love you, Fionola Bohannon, and it’s my fondest wish you remember it always. But in case you forget, I’ll tell you true that you’ll have the number-one place in my heart for the remainder of my days and well past when I’ve entered the Otherworld.”

“Why does this sound like goodbye?”

His heart caught in his throat, and he called on every bit of acting talent he possessed to make it appear otherwise. Gifting her with a roguish grin, he drew her to her feet and grabbed her drink.

“Come. I’ve something I’ve been meaning to do.”

When they reached what served as a stage, he shooed away those in front and gestured for Fi to sit down at the abandoned table. Nerves ate at him, and he called himself ten kinds of fool for putting himself on display. He drank down the last of her pint in a single guzzle, wiped away the foam with the back of his wrist, then waved at Ruairí, indicating he should bring another.

All eyes were on him as he climbed the steps to the microphone, and Cian stopped strumming to welcome him with a grin. “You’re gracing us with a song, Da?”

“I’m gracing Fionola with one, aye.”

He heard her gasp over the crowd noise, but he didn’t turn until he accepted the guitar from Cian. Positioning himself on the stool, he strummed as he adjusted the strings, and when he was satisfied, he met her glowing eyes across the distance.

“’Tis a song I wrote about true love,” he said into the mic while he began to play.

Fi raised a hand to cover her smiling mouth and shook her head.

He nodded. “Sure, and it makes me sound like an eejit to say it, but I’ve loved ya from first sight, Fionola Bohannon.”

In this world so wide I wandered, lost but free,

Searching for signs, a clue of what’s meant to be.

Every soul I met, felt like a passing phase,

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