Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
DEAN
I ’m so drunk I must be hallucinating. That’s the only explanation. Because there’s no way Juliette is actually standing in front of me right now. I close my eyes, refusing to let myself believe it’s real. I can’t handle that kind of disappointment again.
“This is a dream,” I mumble. “A crazy, alcohol-induced dream.”
When I open my eyes, she’s still there, frozen in place. Her mouth is slightly open, like she can’t believe I’m the one in front of her. Did she miss me as much as I missed her?
Her gaze flicks to the cops holding me. My heart thunders in my chest. Suddenly, I regret chugging every bottle I could find on the plane. I regret punching the flight attendant who tried to cut me off—turns out he wasn’t too keen on that. The uniformed clowns were waiting the second I got hauled off the aircraft. I was furious at Declan for kicking me out, but I think I’ve just landed myself in something even worse.
“Mama,” a small voice pipes up. “Why is the bad guy talking to himself?”
It’s only then I notice the little boy on her hip. He has red hair, exactly like hers. My knees practically buckle at the sight. She had a child. Another man’s child. Devastation crushes me. How could I let this happen?
“Bluebird,” I croak. “You had a baby.”
My voice is raw, the pain impossible to hide.
“Dean.”
This time, it’s my grandfather speaking, his tone heavy with warning. I hadn’t even seen him beside her. His gray hair is thinner than I remember, which shouldn’t be surprising; I haven’t set foot in Ireland in almost a decade. The last six years have been spent scouring the earth for my girl. And now I find out she’s been right here, with my grandfather—who clearly knew. He knew she was here, carrying another man’s child, and never told me. My chest roils with more emotions than I can name.
“Babe, there you are.”
A man I’ve never seen appears at Juliette’s side. Instantly, I hate him. I hate the way his hand rests on her waist. The kid’s eyes light up when he looks at the guy—must be his father. Something in me twists into a storm. My bound hands start to shake; I want to feel this man’s blood on my skin, destroy him, and take back what’s mine.
My gaze snaps to Juliette. She looks stunned, her bright eyes burning with worry and shame. I’m not sure why she’s worrying; her secret’s out. She ran away, had a baby with another man. But I can forgive her for that. I can even love her son like my own. All that’s left is getting rid of this scumbag who touched her first.
“Babe,” he repeats. “You okay?”
A sharp laugh leaves my throat. “Babe? Really? She hates basic pet names.”
“Uh, who are you?”
His dark eyes flick over me like he’s labeling me as trash. I don’t blame him. Right now, I probably look like a psycho—which, to be fair, I am.
“Don’t worry about it,” I bite out. “She knows who I am.”
Juliette swallows. “We should really g-get going.”
She’s so rattled. It reminds me of the last time I saw her this nervous—right before I kissed her for the first time.
“What is going on?” the man asks, pointing at me again. “Jules?”
This motherfucker. How long have they been together? How well does he know her? Why is he acting like he loves her? If I wasn’t planning to kill him before, I sure as hell am now. She’s mine—she just doesn’t realize it yet.
“You know the bad guy, Mama?”
“Uh,” she stammers, “sort of.”
“He’s my grandson,” a gruff voice cuts in.
My grandfather. By the tone in his voice, he and the kid know each other well. How? When? Questions sprint around my head like they’re in a marathon. The boy looks up at my grandfather.
“Oh,” the kid says, glancing back at me. “Maybe you should give him a shower. He looks messy.”
He’s not wrong. I do feel messy.
The great Jamie Walsh cracks a tiny smile. “Will do, kiddo. But you need to go with your mom, right now, okay? I’ll come see you soon.”
“How soon?”
“What?”
“How soon can you come see me?”
“PJ,” Juliette says, “we really need to go.”
“Can you come tomorrow?”
“Sure, champ,” he tells the kid. “I’ll come see you tomorrow. Go with your mama now.”
The child slides down from Juliette’s arms to hug my grandfather. He’s her son, but something about him feels strangely familiar to me.
“Don’t bring him until he’s had a shower, okay?” the boy adds, talking about me. Surprisingly, the little wisecrack makes me laugh—something I haven’t done in a long, long time.
Juliette glances in my direction. I wish I could read her mind. She’s changed so much—her hair is longer, there are circles under her eyes, and her body... I swallow. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I want to hold her so badly it hurts.
I test my cuffs, wondering if I can reach her. She’s only ten feet away, but there are four cops, one soon-to-be-dead boyfriend, a kid, me, and my grandfather standing between us. Probably not happening. Doesn’t mean I won’t try.
A sharp pinch on my left arm snaps me back. The officer is pinching the hell out of me.
“Don’t do it, boyo,” he warns in a thick Irish accent, reminding me I’m not in Vegas anymore. The sound jars Juliette out of her trance.
“We’re leaving now,” she snaps. “Right now.”
She has to walk right by me. My gaze stays glued to her.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, bluebird. Real soon.”
I hear her gasp, see her feet shuffle faster. She pulls her son with her. The prick who’s dating her glares at me but says nothing. Coward. If I were him, I’d be putting up a fight—or at least digging a grave for me.
“What happened?” my grandfather asks, aiming the question at the cops.
“He punched a male flight attendant,” one of them answers. “He’s damn lucky the plane was already on the ground. Otherwise, he’d be in a lot more trouble.”
My grandfather lets out a long breath, leveling a disappointed look my way. I let my shaggy hair fall over my face, though it doesn’t help me escape his judgment.
“What’s going to happen now?” he asks.
“I’m a big fan, Mr. Walsh,” one cop tells him, “but your grandson still needs to be booked. You can follow us to the station if you want.”
I scoff. Jamie Walsh isn’t the type to use his fame to get me off the hook; he’s all about tough love.
“I understand.”
The cops drag me off and shove me into their car. On the ride to the station, I stare out the window at the dull gray sky. It’s like staring into a mirror, reflecting the storm inside me. But it doesn’t change the fact she’s here. I finally found her.
Getting booked feels the same here as it would in the States—cuffs, paperwork, a bleak cell. I lean against the cool steel bars, close my eyes, and let the time slip past me. I know my grandfather will bail me out. He always does, one way or another.
First thing I’ll do after I’m out is track her down. I need the details: where she lives, what her life is like. Does she actually love that guy, or is she just waiting for me to show up? Maybe I’m delusional, but I saw something in her expression. She still feels something.
“Walsh, let’s go,” a guard hollers. He unlocks my cell, leads me to the lobby, and gestures to the door.
“Don’t go too far, Walsh.”
Outside, it’s night now, and my grandfather stands waiting. Seeing him reminds me how much I’ve missed him—then I remember he betrayed me.
“You knew,” I spit out. “You knew she was here. How long?”
“Dean, you don’t understand.”
“How long have you known?”
“Four and a half years. Nearly five.”
“You knew I was searching for her! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she asked us not to, son.”
“Us? Grandma knows?”
He nods.
“Wow.”
I’ve never hated my grandfather until now. He kept me in the dark. I could have found her—stopped her from having a kid with someone else. That boy should be mine.
“Let’s talk at home, Dean.”
“No. I’m not going with you.”
“You think you have a choice?”
I glare. My grandfather raised me after my mom went to prison, until he shipped me to live with the McBrides when I was ten. He’s always been fair, but never a man you can just refuse.
“I’ll get a room somewhere, Gramps,” I mutter. “I just—I can’t look at you right now.”
“Get in the fucking car, boy. Now.”
I turn and walk away. I barely make it a few steps before his hand clamps down on the back of my neck. For an old man, he’s still strong enough to stop me.
“I don’t give a shit how you feel about me,” he growls. “Your grandmother hasn’t seen you in years. You owe her at least one visit. Get in the goddamn car.”
I flinch, guilt creeping in. He’s right—I haven’t been back here in ten years. This place never had many happy memories to start with. Maybe that’s why I left so easily in the first place. I follow him to his sports car without another word.
“There’s so much you don’t understand, Dean,” he says, voice raspy as we speed through dark streets. “You need to talk to Juliette.”
“Will you take me to her?”
He hesitates, then finally nods. “As long as you can keep that temper of yours in check.”
A slow wave of relief washes over me for the first time since she left. There’s a lot to figure out, but I can finally see a sliver of light at the end of this tunnel, and it’s guiding me straight to her. I might have to crack a skull or two to get there, but so be it.