Page 227 of Releasing 10
“You’re keeping the head, Mike,” I decided to tell him. “You’re doingokay.”
Lonesome, pale-blue eyes, so similar to my girlfriend’s, stared back at me. “I’m hanging on by a thread here, son.”
“That’s okay,” I replied carefully. “Just as long as youkeephanging on.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it’ll be easier now that bastard Mark Allen is gone.”
“Yeah,” I agreed quietly, knowing that I had a whole heap I wanted to say about the prick but having the good sense to keep it in my head. “I heard they took him to the airport this morning.”
“Good fucking riddance.” Mike’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on a menacing tone when he added, “Although, how he gets to swan off traveling the world while my daughter rots in the ground is something I’ll never come to terms with.” The hand he was using to grip his tumbler of whiskey started to tremble. “And to think I welcomed him into my home with open arms.” He cleared his throat again, but it sounded like a snarl. “Meanwhile, you were seven years old when you came bounding up the lane.” He paused to drain the contents of his glass, before adding, “And even then, you were more of a man than he’ll ever be.”
Jesus.
Mike’s admission confounded me because, while I’d never been on his bad side, my girlfriend’s father certainly hadn’t taken much of an interest in me. Sure, he was polite and friendly in passing, but nothing likethis.
“I suppose I backed the wrong horse, didn’t I?” Mike choked out a humorless laugh, while discretely wiping a tear from his eye. “Well, I’m not afraid to admit my mistakes.” He gave me a meaningful look when he said, “I have my differences with your parents, and we don’t need to go into why, but there’s no denying they raised a fine young man.”
“I’m nothim,” I blurted out, tone urgent. “I swear it, Mike.” Resting my elbows on the table, I leaned forward and implored him with my eyes tobelieveme. “I willneverhurt your daughter.”
OH YEAH? WATCH ME
Hugh
JUNE 29, 2000
“IGNORE THEM,” ITRIED TO COAX, BUT IT WAS NO USE. THE SMART-ASS REMARK TOSSEDat Gibsie’s expense, in the school car park after our graduation tonight, had sent him on a downward spiral. “You know Danny Call’s a mouthy gobshite.”
“He called me a pervert.” Gibsie cried harder, dropping onto my sister’s bed. “He said I was likehim.”
“He was talking out of his hole,” I reiterated, feeling my temper rise. Jesus Christ, one of these days, I was going to break that asshole’s nose. “Did anyone hear him?”
“Me,” Claire chimed in from her perch underneath the sprawled-out flanker, who was still clad in his graduation gown and using my sister as his personal cushion. “He said it, Hughie,” she confirmed, with Gibsie’s graduation cap perched on top of her wild curls. “I heard him with my own ears.”
“Anyone else?” I pressed, flinging my cap and gown onto the foot of her bed. “What about Cap?”
“As if,” Claire snorted. “He wouldn’t dare open his mouth to Gerard with Johnny Kavanagh around.”
Yeah, I knew that and couldn’t have been more grateful for his recent implantation into our lives. Kav was worshipped by our peers, and because Kav had deemed Gibsie his right-hand man, Gibsie’s popularity had soared. While he continued his polite-but-distant approach with me and Feely, Cap’s peculiaremotional attachment to Gibsie had worked wonders for him, and Gibs had become untouchable at schoolandon the pitch.
In fact, this was the first time I’d even caught wind of anyone giving Gibsie hassle in months.
Of course, the culprithadto be Danny Callaghan.
“I’ll sort it out, Gibs,” I told him, feeling a surge of protectiveness shoot through my veins. “I promise Danny won’t say anything about it again.”Not if he wants to keep his ability to walk. “I’ll make it right, lad.”
“Don’t tell Johnny,” he strangled out, chest heaving. “Please. I don’t want him to know anything about it.”
“I won’t,” I promised, already knowing that Gibs didn’t want anyone outside of the family to know. “I haven’t told him anything before, have I?”
“No,” he croaked out, sniffling. “But I haven’t told him about it, and I don’t want him to think badly of me.”
“Gibs, nobody could think badly of you,” I replied with a sigh. “You’re a good egg, lad, and Cap knows that.”
“Liz does,” he sobbed. “She thinks badly of me.”
“Liz is just sad,” Claire interjected, stroking his hair. “She’s not thinking clearly right now. Isn’t that right, Hugh?”
“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” I replied, watching my sister cradle his blond head to her chest. “Speaking of Liz,” I decided to add, knowing this could blow up in my face like it had on several previous occasions. “Have you thought any further about what she meant that day at the grave?”
