33. Connor
CONNOR
It’s a humid morning in New Jersey. The bench is wet but it doesn’t bother me too much. A few older folks wander down paths while aides help them along. The building behind me is big and beautiful, lots of pretty landscaping. I sit with a bag at my feet, mostly ignored by the people around me.
She comes out after a while carrying two steaming paper cups of coffee. I accept one with thanks and wipe off the seat beside me. Her nose wrinkles, but she sits.
“Dad’s settling in,” Sinead says, looking back at the building. “It’s strange, coming here. He knows on some level that he won’t ever leave again, but he’s not talking about it.”
“Do you want him to?”
“I’m not sure.” She sips her coffee. “Where do you want to die when it happens?”
“Home surrounded by my five kids and my ten grandkids.”
“Sounds awful.”
“What about you?”
“Skydiving. Smack right into the ground.” She smiles at me. “That or in the bath.”
“Sounds like fun.”
We lapse into silence. I finish the coffee with a grunt and toss the cup into a nearby trashcan.
“You look terrible, you know. I’m surprised they haven’t called the police yet.”
“I’m being good.” I nudge the bag toward her. “Got what you wanted.”
She pays attention to the plain black duffel for the first time. “What’s in there?”
“Deck. A part of him, anyway.”
I expect her to shrink back, but she only drags it closer and unzips a portion. “Huh. Bit of a cliche, don’t you think?”
“I considered bringing his balls, but the head seemed better.”
She snorts and zips it back up. “Cillian backed me yesterday. Lorcan wasn’t happy, but now that I have this—“ She nudges my cousin’s remains with her toe. “Nobody can say I left any loose ends.”
“And our arrangement?”
“You can consider the war over. There will be amends to make. Reparations to pay. Lorcan will make dramatic demands. In the end, life will go on.”
“I’ll pray for your dad.”
“Will you? Do you think that’ll help?”
“Not at all, but I’ll do it anyway.”
“Thank you.” She stands and sighs. “Go home and shower.”
“I have a few more stops to make before I can do that.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”
I give her a mocking salute. “As you’ll find out soon, boss.”
“Good luck.” She walks off with a small wave. “And remember. We’re not friends. Never will be.”
I watch her go.
Hell, at least we aren’t enemies.
I’d hate to be the man who crosses that woman.
Casey Whelan leans against the doorjamb and crosses her arms. “Well, look at this. I didn’t expect to see you today. Or ever again, actually.”
“Declan’s still that mad?”
“Can’t blame him.” She purses her lips before nodding for me to follow. “Come on. You wait in his office. I’ll drag him from a very important appointment.”
I sit heavily in front of Declan’s desk. It’s not easy, keeping my eyes open. I keep checking my phone, waiting for an update from Marcus, but there’s nothing. Danielle’s at the hospital with Rowan and Angie, and someone has to know what’s going on. Dad should be out of surgery by now.
“Heard you had an eventful evening.” Declan comes into the room. He’s in gray sweats and a black polo shirt. “I hope you have good news. You pulled me from spending time with my girls. I even got them to stop watching screens for ten minutes.”
“It’s done with the Gallaghers. I spoke with Sinead Gallagher an hour ago.”
Declan sinks down into his chair and studies me. “Your cousin’s dead. How’s your father?”
“Still waiting to hear.”
“I’ll make some calls. He’ll get the best care possible.”
“I appreciate that.” I grip the arms of the chair to steady myself. “Sinead needs a husband. That’s the last piece we got left.”
“Don’t worry about her. I’ll find someone.”
“Pick a good man. Actually, no, pick a strong man. Not sure there are many husbands in the world who can handle her.”
Declan snorts a soft laugh and looks over my shoulder. “I know how that feels.”
I rub my face with both hands. “Are we calling this even?”
“No, we aren’t. There will be further consequences.”
“That’s what Sinead said.”
“And you deserve it. Leaving her at the altar like that. Fucking up all our plans and starting a war. You’ll clean it up, Connor.”
“I will,” I say, meaning it.
“Welcome back to the family then.” Declan stands and offers me his hand.
I shake it. “I appreciate that. Now, I should get to the hospital.”
“You want anything? Coffee? A shower?”
“I’m good.”
“You’re definitely not.”
“Better than my dad.”
He dips his chin, real concern in his eyes, and raises it toward the door. “You should get moving then.”
The stink of antiseptic is everywhere.
Hospitals feel so worn out: the walls scuffed and marked, the floors scratched and marred. It’s like all the suffering that moves through this place is left burned into the wood and the plastic, and no amount of scrubbing cleans it out.
I reach the waiting room, push the door open, and find my family sitting together at the far side, huddled around Danielle like they’re trying to protect her.
Strange, how these women are deeply in my life.
I don’t know how I deserve them. Rowan, her strength, her deep well of feelings; she’s the moral compass I need.
Angie with her need to help other people.
And even Danielle, as annoying as she can be, she’s still my father’s partner and it looks like she’s crumbling under the pressure of maybe losing him.
“Connor.” Angie notices me first and comes hurrying over. I open my arms and she throws herself against me. I hug her hard, holding her warm body, breathing in her smell and some of the hurt and the ache and anxiety fades. That’s how it is when she’s around. Everything bad becomes better.
“Any word?”
“Still nothing.” She breathes in deep and looks up. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
“How are they doing?”
“Danielle’s a mess. Rowan’s trying to be strong.” She checks over her shoulder. “I think they need you.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m back now.”
She touches my cheek. “Is everything okay?”
I hold her hand and nuzzle against it. “Yeah, angel. Everything’s okay.
” I kiss her fingers before joining my sister and Danielle.
They hug me and Rowan lets out a single, hopeless sob against my chest, which shatters my heart into glinting pieces.
I touch Danielle’s hand and she presses it back, lips pressed tight.
“He’s going to be okay,” I tell her, but she’s pale and seems so small.
“What if he’s not?” Her voice is tiny. Her eyes dart to Rowan and she grimaces. I can tell she’s trying to be strong for her daughter, but it’s hard.
“He will be.”
There’s not much else to say after that. Angie joins us and we remain in a tight huddle, killing time, doing not much more than staring at an old TV playing reruns of Frasier in the corner of the room.
I start to feel like nothing will ever happen, like we’re trapped in a strange limbo between now and the future, when the door opens. A fit, middle-aged man in scrubs enters. He’s got the broad chest and the big, fine hands of a surgeon, a clipboard held out like a shield in front of him.
“Ah, Cathal Maguire’s family?” He looks at us expectantly.
“I’m his wife.” Danielle stands, even though I can tell she doesn’t want to. I’m proud of her though. “Is he okay?”
“The procedure went well,” the surgeon says in that brisk, clipped way his profession forces. “We removed the bullets and repaired the damage we could. There’s going to be a long recovery and no guarantee he’ll walk right again. One bullet fragment clipped his spine.”
“But he’s alive?”
The surgeon looks surprised. “Nobody told you? Yes, oh, yes, he’s doing well. You can see him in about an hour, though he won’t be all the way awake yet?—“
Danielle breaks down into relieved sobs. The surgeon frowns at her like he doesn’t know what to do. I stand and guide her back to Rowan and Angie, all three women crying now.
“Thank you,” I tell the surgeon. “I’m his son.”
“Your father’s a lucky man. Any one of those shots could’ve been the end of him.” The surgeon checks the door behind him. “The man who brought him in?—“
“I understand he’s in police custody?”
“Yes. Well. He saved your father’s life.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Do you have any questions?”
I ask him what I can, but there isn’t much more to learn. He leaves and we’re alone again, but the feeling in the room is vastly different. Danielle laughs for the first time and even Rowan’s smiling. Their relief is like heaven.
I make a call while we’re waiting. “Connor Maguire. Haven’t heard from you in a while. I was starting to think you forgot all about me and my very generous retainer.”
“How are you, Tyler?”
“Well as can be expected. What can I do for you?”
“You know my associate Marcus Boyd.”
“How’s he holding up? I always tell him he’s got a job at the firm if he’s ever interested. He’ll make a great lawyer.”
“He’s in need of your services.” I give him a brief rundown of what happened.
“Marcus should be fine. They’ll question his ass all day and night and that car’s gone forever. Did he have anything illegal in the vehicle?”
“Not sure. I doubt it though.”
“Good. Alright. Cops don’t toss a guy in jail for saving a life. I’ll find out what I can and deal with it. No worries though, he’ll be okay.”
Whatever the charges will be, if there are any, Tyler and his army of morally dubious lackeys will use every legal trick to bring my friend back home.
We’re taken upstairs a couple hours later, longer than expected. Dad’s sitting up in bed, sunken and small, bandaged and stuck with needles and lines, but he’s awake and he’s smiling and he hugs his daughter and his wife for a long time.
“Told you I’d be fine,” he grunts at me.
“Never again, old man.”
He laughs and grimaces. “Don’t think I got any more adventures in me, son.”
I take his hand and squeeze it. I want to say, I love you, Dad, but that’s not in me. Instead, I touch his shoulder, and he nods back like he knows and that’s enough.
Angie and Rowan leave with me when the sun sets. Danielle insists on staying behind. I’m not sure if the nurses will let her stay over, but we’ll see. My sister gets in the car and I linger for a moment in the darkness of the parking lot, pulling Angie against me. I stoop down to kiss her.
“It’s weird,” she says, leaning her cheek against my chest. “There’s nobody trying to kill us anymore. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“We’ll find something for you to do.”
She snorts, patting my chest. “Easy, boy.”
“I meant this.” I reach down to touch her belly.
“It’s happening, isn’t it? After everything that happened, I’m not sure it scares me anymore. If I can survive you and your family?—“
I laugh and swat at her butt. “Easy there.”
“I mean, I can survive childbirth. And I can be a decent mother.”
“Damn right.”
The door to the car opens. “Are you two done playing grabass? I know it’s a nice moment and all, but I really want a shower.” Rowan glares and slams it closed again.
“Better go.” Angie sighs, hugging me harder. “Think my mom’s still up?”
“Do you care?”
“Not really.”