Chapter Twenty-Four Tristan
Even from the door of the restaurant, Liam looked like shit.
The cold Boston winter nipped at my skin as I stepped into the fish and chip shop near the marina, the scent of salt and fried batter a stark reminder of how far we were from the palatial comforts of our usual haunts. Liam was already there, seated in a booth with his jacket tossed carelessly over the seatback. He picked up his head and smiled at us.
“About time, lads,” Liam said, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he grinned broadly. “Thought I was going to have to start eating without you.”
I forced a chuckle, my appetite as absent as the warmth outside.
“You ordered food?” Kieran asked, sliding into the booth.
“You are predictable,” Liam said. “Both of you.”
“Aye, fair enough,” Kieran said.
The plate before me was piled with golden chips and a piece of battered cod, but it might as well have been cardboard for all the interest I could muster.
“Ah, come on now, don’t let it go cold,” Liam chimed in, his voice rich with the casual ease that always seemed to coat his words. I sat down next to him and he nudged me with a playful elbow, his own meal half-devoured. “Alright lad, what’s got you looking like a lovesick puppy who lost its chew toy?”
My eyes met his briefly; I could feel them narrowing despite my efforts to appear unfazed. That damn charm of his could unravel anyone, myself included. But the weight of everything unsaid, everything I had to shoulder, pressed down on me until I felt like I was made of lead.
“Nothing,” I grumbled, picking up a chip and examining it disinterestedly. “Just not hungry, I guess.”
“You’re not hungry? Are you sick? Kieran, is he ill?”
“Leave him be, Liam,” Kieran said, his gaze flickering to mine briefly. “Can’t a man have a moment of peace without being pressed on it?”
“Aye, a man, sure. Not him.”
I rolled my eyes.
Liam raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over his face, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he took a large bite of his fish, letting the conversation lapse into the easy banter between bites.
“Speaking of love, how’s Ali? That was her name, right? What happened when you left Killian’s?” I asked, looking across the table at Liam. His carefree demeanor faltered, a shadow crossing his face.
“Ali...She’d already left by the time I went back.” He set down his fork, pushing the food around on his plate.
My gut tightened. Liam’s tone, the slump of his shoulders—it all told a story without him uttering another word. “And you went back to the pub after that mess with Killian?” I prodded, needing to understand his reasoning.
“Didn’t feel like going back to my apartment,” Liam said, shrugging, although the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes. “The sound of that, uh, of the thing that happened, was still ringing in my damn ears. Needed to clear my head, have a drink... more than a drink, if I’m being honest.” He glanced up at me with a half-hearted attempt at a smirk. “Just wanted to forget about it all for a bit. You get that, don’t you?”
I did get it, more than he realized. But acknowledging that, sharing that kind of vulnerability, was not something I could afford—not with everything teetering on a knife’s edge. So, I stayed silent, letting the clamor of the fish and chip shop fill the space between us. My own meal lay mostly untouched, the vinegar tang hanging in the air, reminding me of simpler times—times before codes, before legacies, before every choice felt like life or death.
Liam sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair—a mirror image of the stress I felt but mastered at hiding. “Anyway, she’s probably halfway back to Ireland by now.”
“Really? That’s strange,” I found myself saying, a frown creasing my brow. “I thought I knew every fully Irish person in Boston.”
“Well, obviously, you don’t,” Liam said, taking a swig of his coke.
“Speaking of which,” Kieran said, his voice pulling me from my thoughts, “we’ve got bigger fish to fry than Liam’s love life. The Orsinis are being hit hard.”
Liam perked up, all traces of personal woes momentarily forgotten. “Another bust?”
“Yep,” Kieran confirmed, his gaze sharp and knowing. “They lost two of their warehouses this week alone. It’s weird—like someone’s got it out for them specifically.”
“Can’t be the Rossis since they’re working with Silvio, unless they fell out,” I said. “Which could well happen. That man–I don’t think he knows how to keep a friend.”
“Who else would be after the Orsinis, though?” Liam asked. “We’re not attacking them and as far as we know, no one else is encroaching on the territory…so…it’s weird, right?”
“Or it’s just their turn in the barrel,” I mused, my mind racing with possibilities. Each move we made on this chessboard of power came with risks and rewards. “We need to stay alert. If they’re being targeted, it could spill over onto us. It’s not like we can go to Dad and ask what to do.”
“Agreed,” Liam said, nodding solemnly. “But who would go after them with such precision? It doesn’t feel like random hits.”
“Maybe it’s not,” Kieran replied. “Could be someone new trying to make a name for themselves—or an old enemy settling scores.”
“Either way,” I concluded, feeling the familiar tug of command, “we need to keep our eyes open and our defenses tight. The last thing we need is a war on two fronts.”
“Tristan’s right,” Liam added. “Let’s not let our guard down.”
Now that we were talking about business, my appetite returned somewhat.
I was halfway through my fish and chips when the vibration in my pocket jolted me back to the present. Glancing at the screen, I saw Adriana’s name flash with a message that twisted my insides.
She wanted space.
Fuck.
“Everything alright?” Kieran asked casually, but I was already stuffing my phone back into my pocket.
“Fine,” I lied, barely tasting the tartar sauce as I took another bite of my lunch. The cool air from the marina did nothing to soothe the heat building in my chest. “Is this cod? It tastes like haddock.”
Liam smirked, crumpling his napkin and tossing it onto his empty plate. “Yeah, that definitely wasn’t cod,” he said.
Kieran agreed, nodding solemnly. “It was haddock. Always is on a Thursday.”
I looked at them in disbelief, my fork pausing halfway to my mouth. “How did I not know this?”
“Because you never pay attention,” Liam shrugged, his smirk widening as he knocked back the rest of his drink.
That was a low blow and I frowned, setting down my fork. With Adriana’s text burning a hole in my pocket, there was a certain truth to it. My mind had been elsewhere these past few weeks—months even. It was tough to focus on anything when your future—your family—was at stake.
“Alright, alright,” I conceded, raising my hands in surrender. “Maybe I’ve been preoccupied.”
“Seriously, Tristan. You can talk to me. You know that, right?” Liam’s voice carried a sincerity that snagged my attention despite everything else.
I glanced back at him, the image of his earnest expression momentarily grounding me. “I appreciate it, Liam, but I’ve got this under control,” I lied smoothly, even as my gut tightened with the knowledge that control was the last thing I had when it came to Adriana.
“Sure you do,” he replied, not quite convinced but dropping the subject all the same. He knew better than to push when my walls were up.
Kieran leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking between us before he spoke. “You know, they say that talking about your feelings is supposed to be therapeutic or something.”
“With you two? I think it would just be traumatizing.”
Kieran shrugged, grinning. “Why not? Not like we don’t know most of your dirty laundry already.”
The banter felt normal, comfortable—familiar territory in a world that often felt anything but. But beneath the facade, my mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, sucked down by the gravity of Adriana’s request for space.
“Sure,” I muttered, rolling my eyes, “and while we’re at it, why don’t we braid each other’s hair and talk about which boy band member we’d marry.”
The three of us broke into laughter, momentarily breaking the tension. For a moment, everything felt normal again. But reality had a way of creeping back in, and soon, the specter of Adriana’s message began to cast its shadow once more.
“Harry Styles, by the way,” Liam said. “No contest.”
I snorted, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all. “You would go for the obvious choice.”
“Styles is a solid pick,” Kieran argued, his grin unfaltering. “Though I might lean more toward Niall myself.”
I held up a hand, forcing down another laugh as I tried to get a grip on the absurdity of the conversation. “That’s enough. Let’s not turn this into a One Direction fan club meeting.”
They both chuckled, exchanging smirking glances that said they had undoubtedly achieved their goal—lightening the mood, if only momentarily.
I checked my phone again subconsciously, my heart sinking as I saw there were no new messages from Adriana. The weight of the silence between us was growing heavier by the second.
“I need a minute,” I said.
As I walked through the crisp winter air, my breath visible against the backdrop of Boston’s skyline, I could feel the weight of my brothers’ concern trailing behind me. But it wasn’t their worry that spurred my steps; it was the gnawing need to resolve the chaos Adriana had stirred within me, to confront whatever lay ahead without dragging them down into the abyss with me.
It was so cold outside. It didn’t help at all.
I circled back to the fish and chip shop near the marina, its windows fogged from the warmth inside combating the biting cold of a Boston winter. The scent of salt and malt vinegar filled my nostrils as I pushed open the door, a jingle announcing my return.
“Back already?” Liam quirked an eyebrow, his tone light but eyes scanning me with a scrutiny I wasn’t prepared to face.
Liam’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he resumed working on his drink.
“Adriana’s not looking too happy lately,” I muttered, hoping to steer the conversation away from myself.
“Ah, she’s probably just hormonal, you know? Pregnant with twins and all,” Liam replied nonchalantly.
“Shut up, Liam,” I snapped, the disrespect slicing through my patience like a blade. It was one thing to hold my tongue on my own account, quite another when it came to Adriana.
“Whoa, easy there.” Liam raised his hands in mock surrender, but the flicker of confusion in his eyes told me he hadn’t expected such a ferocious backlash.
I clenched my jaw, forcing air through my nostrils in an attempt to calm the storm brewing within. It was a delicate dance, balancing the need to protect Adriana’s privacy with the visceral urge to defend her honor.
“Sorry,” I grumbled after a tense silence, “Just...watch your words, alright?”
Liam nodded, and we settled into an uneasy truce, the sound of the harbor’s gulls filling the spaces our conversation used to occupy.
“Kieran, can I ask you something?” Liam’s voice cut through the lull, his eyes flicking to our brother across the table.
“Shoot,” Kieran said, leaning back in his chair with an air of disinterest that seemed as natural to him as breathing.
“Tristan thinks it’s strange he doesn’t know every Irish soul in Boston, and now Ali’s vanished off the map. What’s your take on that?” Liam prodded, his fork paused mid-air.
“Well, the only explanation I can think of is that you’re making her up,” Kieran said. “That sounds like something you’d do. Remember that girlfriend in Canada?”
“Hey, that’s not–well, that’s rich, coming from you. How come you never seem to have any girl trouble?”
“Because I don’t let them trouble me,” Kieran replied without missing a beat, his gaze fixed on some distant point outside the window.
“Meaning?” I pressed, curious despite myself.
“Meaning,” Kieran said, turning his attention back to us, “I just never fall in love.”
The words hung in the air, devoid of bitterness or regret, spoken with such finality that they felt like a verdict.
“Never?” Liam echoed, skepticism etched onto his features.
“Never,” Kieran affirmed, picking up his pint again. “I have enough to worry about, honestly.”
“Must be convenient,” I mused aloud, although a part of me wondered what it would cost to live with such emotional detachment.
“Or lonely,” Liam added softly, the whimsy gone from his tone.
“Maybe it just means I have more time to play video games,” Kieran said softly.
The tension lifted a little, replaced by the familiar rhythm of our banter. But I couldn’t shake off Kieran’s words that easily. Never fall in love...
If only it were that easy.