Page 24 of Irish Fire and Forbidden Love
He grabbed a cup of tea for himself and joined us at the table, studying Rory’s recovered items. Finally, he said, “It was me who’d knocked him out, but I only did that because he wouldn’t leave us be. Me and the boys drove him just outside of Cork and dropped him off. To teach him a lesson, like. Disrespecting our family by assumin’ we stole his wallet.”
I smiled into my tea. I wasn’t about to argue that point. “Well, I appreciate the wallet and phone. He’s a foreigner. Nothaving his ID would really mess things up for him, but a few wads of cash missing?” I shrugged. “He’s a businessman. Probably has more of it than he needs.”
I winked at Seimon, and he laughed.
When I finished half my tea, I said, “Well, I should probably get going. There’s another guy causing me problems.”
Seimon perked up. “Another guy? Do you need help?”
I didn’t want to go into specifics, so I just said, “It’s alright. People don’t like when there are too many good things in the world.”
“Hear! Hear!” Larry said, holding up his tea cup.
Seimon followed me out of the house, and I said, “If Rory comes back, try to be a little nicer to him. Alright?”
He nodded. I gave him a tight hug, squeezing out all the bad memories from his life, willing in good. He and his brother were abandoned by their parents. They’d been raised by their grandmother, who died two years ago. I’d known the brothers were living a difficult life, but I had hoped it hadn’t been bad enough to mug someone. Even still, I smiled and wished to see him soon. Because without any shred of goodness for someone, there was nothing to try to be good for.
I started to leave, then stopped. “We’re having an open mic right now— a fundraiser. I’d love your talent on stage if you have time.”
He agreed, and I left the house feeling lighter. It was good to know that Rory hadn’t gone silent on purpose. There had been a reason, and if I knew these boys, they hadn’t left him anywhere dangerous. If anything, he’d be naked and embarrassed and maybe need some money, but those were relatively harmless things. Besides, the very idea of him naked out there made me feel a little bad for him. If I saw him again maybe I’d even offer him a drink.
I walked down the street, then cut through an alley. It wasn’t until I was halfway to the pub that I noticed someone following me. Their steps moved as I moved, they sped or slowed when I did.
I turned quickly down a side street, only to stumble over a broken piece of pavement and fall hard on my hands, scattering Rory’s phone and wallet on the surrounding pavement.
A pair of legs came up to me.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Rory said, helping me up. He grabbed his scattered belongings, then smiled at me, though it looked pained. A fresh cut marred the side of his temple and neck, but it was his black and blue eye that stole my attention.
“What’s happened to you?” I asked, raising my fingers to touch the bruise but stopping myself. The anger I’d been harboring all day resurfaced, and I stepped back, despite every instinct screaming to close the gap.
“I’m okay. Are you okay?” he asked, glancing at the door. “Did they do anything to you? Because if they did?—”
“Seimon?” The name snapped me out of my thoughts. “No, I’m fine. But you... I didn’t think they’d do something like this to you. I’ll talk to them?—”
“They gave me the cut on the temple, but the rest is from a car accident,” he explained, gesturing behind him. “Had a little issue getting here. Didn’t think I’d make it in time, but I had help.”
Two men stood behind him. One was a traditional-looking Irish farmer in trousers, sporting just as many bruises as Rory. The other was a clean-cut police officer who was unscathed.
“I appreciate you coming to find me, but I’m fine,” I said. “You, though? You don’t look fine. You should go to the emergency room.”
“That’s what I told him, too,” the officer chimed in.
Rory pulled a face. “I’m fine. Butwe’renot fine.” He stepped closer, and before I could react, he wrapped me in his arms.
My anger dissolved as quickly as it had flared. I needed him in my arms. I craved him. His smell. His heat on my body. I wanted to melt within his embrace.
“Maeve, I’m so sorry for everything. I never meant to lie to you, but I was weak. Can you forgive me?”
“Yes,” the word escaped before I realized. Then I straightened up, shaking my head. “No. You and Frank lied to me. You’re trying to buy those stocks. You’re trying to steal my pub from me, and it doesn’t really matter. Does it? It’s already too late.” The truth hit me like a freight train. “It’s too late.”
Rory grabbed my hands so quickly it startled me. His grip was firm but not forceful. It was hard to pull away. So I didn’t.
“It’s not too late.”
My heart lurched toward him, but my head shook no. “Itistoo late. I need to get back to open mic.”
I turned to leave.
