Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DEAN
“ W hy is it every time I see you, you’re getting your ass kicked?” my grandpa asks, handing me a coffee mug.
We’re sitting in my grandparents' kitchen. Juliette and I decided to come to Dublin despite Declan leaving. She thought it would be good for PJ to get away. The kid has been through so much. I’m not sure he’s processed it.
“Part of the Walsh charm, I guess.” I take a sip of the scalding black coffee. “I’m sure you’ve had your ass kicked once or twice.”
“Yeah, but not three times in a span of what? Two weeks?”
“四 times. Forget you kicked my ass in the ring too?”
My grandpa rolls his eyes at me. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I realize that.”
Declan nearly did. I’ll never admit it to Juliette, but I was so scared. I really thought I was going to die—the thought of leaving her and PJ to fend for themselves. Losing her—them—when I just got them back. I never want to feel the chill of death again. My throat is sore as fuck, but I’m alive. I have to be grateful for that.
I think my heart hurts more. Declan really believes I’m such a bad pick for his sister that he’d rather kill me than let me love her. I know I can’t blame him. But I thought I still had some value in his eyes. Clearly, I was wrong.
But I’m not going to let him keep us apart. He’s not going to take my family from me. I’d kill him if he tried—I wouldn’t want to—but I would. He would do the same thing for his family. He’s proved that.
“You got a letter,” my grandpa says. “From the courts.”
He slides a white envelope across the table. Anxiety brews in my gut, churning as black as my coffee.
“The hits just keep coming,” I mutter.
“Open it.”
My hands quake as I slip my thumb up the seal and start tearing through the paper. I’m holding my breath. Everything seems to move in slow motion as I unfold the stark white letter. My eyes scan the words, worry biting at me.
“What’s it say?” my grandpa asks.
No one has ever accused him of being patient.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
He rips it from my hands and reads it himself. “Court date is in two weeks.”
“Yeah.”
That’s the only useful information the letter contained. I’m not sure what I was hoping for—a solution. A way out of it, maybe.
“I can talk to the chief. He’s a friend. He might be able to speak with whoever is in charge.”
“Don’t,” I tell him. “I fucked up. I’ll take the consequences.”
“You realize you could serve up to a year?”
“I could also be fined.”
He gives me a look. “The fine is still forty thousand dollars.”
Ouch. I can afford it, but it’s a steep price for my crime. Who gets the money anyway? The court or the person I hit?
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him.
He scoffs like he doesn’t believe me. But he drops the subject.
“Declan was really upset. I’m guessing he didn’t know Warren was alive?”
I shake my head. “We were told he was dead. There was a memorial service for him and everything. I’m sure Dec feels like he’s been hit with a cannon.”
To say the least. For Declan, nothing is more important than family. When he thought his little brother was responsible for their father’s death, he was devastated. But he let him live, right up until someone started attacking the family from all sides, including hitting Francine in the face with a brick. Declan thought it was Warren, so he made the executive decision to take him out. It wasn’t a choice that came easy for him. I know it’s haunted Declan since. But he thought he was protecting his family. We all do crazy things for our family. With Warren’s secret out, I can’t help but wonder what will happen now.
“And you? How are you feeling with everything?”
I look at the man I’ve always considered a hero. Feelings aren’t something we talk about often. Usually when I call, it’s just to catch up and make sure the two of them are alive. I can’t remember having a chat like this since the time I came to visit at fourteen and he wanted to teach me about sex.
“I’m okay.”
The words are tougher to get out than I expected. Truth is, I didn’t sleep once we got to my grandparents' last night. How could I? It’s like fate or the Universe has it out for me. So much is happening, there’s never a break for me to process or breathe. The world is sitting on my shoulders, and it’s getting heavier every day.
“Tell me the truth,” he demands. “No one would blame you for not being okay. This would be a lot for anyone.”
“Finding out about my kid was a lot, but then watching some asshole hurt the woman I love, seeing my kid covered in ash and soot because someone tried to kill him, and having my once best friend nearly kill me because he hates the idea of me loving his sister that much. It’s too much.”
“Yet, you’re still standing. That’s got to count for something, Dean.”
“Barely,” I grit out.
He shrugs. “You’re still here, that’s what matters. Nothing to do now but keep moving forward.”
“So the universe can continue to toss some bullshit my way? I just want all of it to be over.”
“Did I ever tell you how your grandma and I met?”
“No?”
The boxer sucks in a breath. “It’s not a warm and cozy story, understand?”
I nod, my attention now all on him.
“Your grandmother was kidnapped when she was fifteen and sold into a human trafficking ring.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“I was walking to the gym to train, and she was out on the street, trying to make a dollar. The moment I saw her standing on the curb, I knew she was mine.” His eyes go misty, like he’s reliving the moment. “She was the prettiest woman I had ever seen, still is. Anyway, I marched up to her, determined to claim her. But when I got close enough, I saw she had two black eyes and a split lip.”
“So you killed someone,” I reply.
I know my pops—as PJ calls him—well. One thing he’s never let stand is violence against women and children.
“I kept walking.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “I don’t think I heard you right. You kept walking? Like you left grandma on the curb and just kept walking?”
He nods, his face tight with shame. “It was a different world back then. I was a broke twenty-six-year-old punk. I wasn’t who I am now, and I didn’t know how to help her.”
“You must’ve figured something else out.”
I watch him take a drink of his coffee. His hands quiver. He seems so distant right now.
“I made a deal with the devil,” he replies. “Also known as Oisín McBride.”
“Declan’s grandfather.”
“Back then, he had this city in a chokehold. He was flat-out evil, never did anything unless it directly benefited him.”
“He wanted something from you,” I guess. “And in exchange, he helped you get grandma free?”
“Something like that. But I didn’t know that the person I made the deal with was someone involved in the very ring that held her captive.”
“Oisín was in the skin trade?”
“He didn’t run the ring, never had a damn thing to do with the girls, but he profited from every single sale. He even got a piece of what the girls made nightly.”
“Does Declan know that?”
“Doubtful.”
“What did Oisín want from you?”
“I had to toss fights for him.”
“You’d lose on purpose?”
“I’d have given up the ring for your grandma, kid. A couple of lost fights were no problem for me.”
“But?”
“But then, I found out about his involvement. That’s when I realized that he was never going to let Margot go.” He sighs. “So I broke into his office and killed him.”
“Wait, no, Patrick killed Oisín. I’ve heard the story a billion times.”
“You’ve heard the story, Patrick, and I concocted that night. The real story is a lot different. I didn’t know it was Patrick’s birthday and there was a party happening downstairs. I was so mad at Oisín that night, I didn’t even realize Patrick was in the room with us. He watched me kill his father.”
“He let you kill him and then took the credit, so you’d get off scot-free?”
“Patrick hated his father more than anyone else in the city. That man was a horrible person and an even worse parent. Patrick made sure Margot was set free, he murdered all the people involved with the ring and took over his father’s post. Honestly, the city thrived in the wake of Oisín’s death. It was a good thing.”
“Wow… I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m telling you this so you can understand that no great love story is ever simple. It’s never easy. The Universe is tossing shit your way so you can prove you’re a changed man. So you can prove that you are worthy of someone as great as Juliette. She’s been through so much. She needs someone who can take care of her. You say you want the chaos to be over, but you’re missing the point. You need to appreciate the journey just as much as you do the destination.”
I let his advice sink in. In just a few minutes, he’s both blown my mind and opened it. Maybe he’s right. This is tumultuous; there’s no question about that. But I don’t care. I would walk through fire for Juliette. Complaining, probably, but I’d do it without a moment’s hesitation. Because like my grandfather knew when he saw my grandmother, I knew Juliette was mine. Of course, I didn’t realize that until after she turned nineteen, but since then, it’s only her for me. It will ever only be her for me.
“Pops,” a little voice squeaks, bursting the silent, heavy bubble around us.
My son comes barreling into the kitchen. He barely stops before he plows right into his great-grandfather.
“Is it time to go to the gym?” He’s so excited, even for it being seven a.m.
A smile comes to my lips. Yeah, the pressure is crushing my soul like an aluminum can, but it’s worth it to see him so happy.
“You need breakfast first,” Juliette insists as she steps into the room.
Her hair is a rumpled mess from sleeping, but she still takes my breath away. She looks at me, not trying to hide how happy she is to see me. Yesterday scared us both.
The smile immediately fades from his face. “Mom, boxers don’t eat breakfast.”
“I can assure you they do,” my grandpa chimes in.
Their conversation fades away as Juliette walks toward me. My smile grows with every step she takes. It feels like forever before she’s close enough for me to pull her into my lap. She squeals as she hits my thighs. I’m sad she changed already. Instead of my shirt, she’s wearing some black jeans and a plain shirt. All of her wild hair is piled onto her head in—what she calls—the signature mom bun.
She looks up at me, her head resting on my shoulder. “Hi.”
“Good morning, gorgeous. Sleep well?”
Juliette nods. Her gaze drops to my lips, and I can tell what she wants—what she needs. And I give it to her. I press my mouth onto hers, wrenching her lips open, slipping my tongue inside. She tastes like fresh mint. My dick hardens, pressing against the cloth of my shorts. I pull away because this is not the best time for me to go feral. That’s exactly what will happen if I keep kissing her. It’s always been like that for her—she drives me wild, and fuck, I love it.
PJ catches my eyes as I look up. I expect to see some disgust or something there, but all he has is curiosity and, if I’m not mistaken, wonder.
“Did you decide what you want to eat?” Juliette asks.
It breaks the trance, and he starts rattling off what he wants. Juliette pecks my lips once more before she stands up. Watching the two of them together, my heart has never felt so full, so peaceful. This is all I’ve ever wanted in life. In this moment, I know my grandpa is right. It’s hard right now, but if this is a glimpse into my future, I’ll endure every jagged edge of our situation. Just for a chance to have loud and chaotic mornings with the woman I love by my side.