40. Finn
Finn
A Bitter Pill To Swallow
My bond with Saoirse is so tight that I can almost read her mind. I’ve always been able to do that—read the future in someone else’s eyes.
It allows me to clock a punch before the fist can form or leave a room before a hand is lifted in anger.
Learn a skill like that as a kid, and it sticks.
I have a choice. To keep it sweet and light with Saoirse. Or to tighten my grip.
I’ll take my cues from her.
She falls asleep in my arms, but there’s a small frown on her face when she does it. I’m too wasted to overthink it, so I sleep as well.
***
Saoirse gets up slowly and deliberately. Gingerly, she moves my arm from around her waist and stands.
She doesn’t head for the jacks or go to the walk-in closet to find clothes.
She takes her purse, pulls something out of it, and bends to put it in my gym bag.
The magnetic strip attached to the key fob.
She was going to try and leave, but something stopped her.
I’m thoughtful as she goes to use the shower. I’m not usually insightful, but I’m canny enough to know this living situation isn’t working for us anymore.
I can’t keep Saoirse locked up here with only sex and watching cage fights to entertain her. It’s time to bump it up a notch.
This much I know.
Saoirse loves me, but she doesn’t like me. Sure, she’ll get the occasional flash of friendly feelings towards me when I teach her how to drive and we eat hoagies on the hood of the car under the warm summer sun.
But when that’s over, she reverts to loving the sex we have while criticizing herself for wanting to have it with someone like me.
On the other hand, I want Saoirse, but I don’t need her. My want for her is written in the stars, but I’m still able to see the moon when she’s not around.
And that’s why my life hasn’t adapted to having her around.
I must figure it out before it’s too late.
She comes out and stands at the end of the bed watching me. “You awake?”
Yawning and stretching, I open my eyes. “Thank feck there’s no sunlight down here. I swear it could burn a hole through my eye sockets.”
I sit up and try shaking my head. It’s agony. I don’t expect any sympathy from Saoirse, and nor do I get it.
“If you can’t remember, you showered this morning, Finn.”
I can still smell her on me. It’s delicious, one of the key reasons why I’m attracted to her. I’m man enough to appreciate the million facets of her femininity.
“Cheers for that, love.”
No reply. As in “Cheers for what?”
I head to the shower room to clean my teeth, but when I come out and move to kiss her, she huffs and turns her face away. “Ugh. Your beard scratches.”
There’ll be no pleasing her tonight.
“Listen, I’ve got to go pay my respects to the family of the lad I sparred with last night. Want to come?”
Her expression is jaded. “You mean the boy you walloped just so you could come after those two lads who were talking to me?”
“That’s right, Saoirse. But that wasn’t what I asked.”
She’s tempted, so I sweeten the deal. “I’ll let you drive. You’re ready to head out on your own. The traffic’s light.”
A smile. She climbs down off the stool. It’s too soon for a hug, so all I do is step aside after dropping the fob in her hand.
“Should I change?” She’s wearing a summer frock.
It’s the sort of dress that thousands of other girls in the five boroughs are wearing right now, but she makes it look amazing.
“You know that green plaid shawl of yours? Bring it along in case the mother is traditional. And wear a scarf too.”
To hide the finger-shaped bruises around her neck.
If she stands under a light, they’re easier to see.
Saoirse comes out with a buttoned cardigan and the scarf hiding her throat.
“Straps aren’t exactly proper to wear for a nighttime visit, Finn. A nice cardigan will fix it.”
Did she do that for me? Or did she notice the marks on her neck?
“You make me want to change now.” I watch her reaction carefully, searching her body language and expressions for resentment.
She kisses my cheek. “They’re a normal family, Finn, probably sitting around watching the telly. What you’re wearing will be fine.”
We understand each other’s way of life and she’s prepared to be traditional when it matters. That’s got to count for something we have in common.
By the time we reach Whippy’s house, Saoirse and I are back to being friends again. I need her to like me. That’s a way more powerful emotion outside of the bedroom.
She gets out of the car so I can park it. We’ve already discussed what to say and do, so Saoirse knocks on the door first after draping the wool shawl over her shoulders.
“Mr. Bronan Ahern? May we please come in?”
Whippy’s da sticks his head around the door and sees me, but he’s not afraid because Saoirse’s with me.
“Sure, lass. Come inside. I’ll call the missus down. She’ll put on the kettle.”
I follow after handing Bronan a bottle of Bushmills. I give him the nod.
“Your lad’s a fierce fighter. He didn’t deserve for me to leave him lying in the octagon like that. I’m here to face whatever you want to say to me on that score.”
It’s not often I hand a man the chance to lambast me, but this is for a good cause. Every man who attends a fight in the octagon must stand united.
Like most Irish American homes, the men go and stand in the kitchen to drink while the ladies sit in the living room.
I don’t drink, but I make Whippy the offer for him to come and train with me.
Saoirse is in the living room chatting with Mrs. Ahern and her two eldest daughters. I catch a glimpse of what our future could be like.
She could help me build the bridges we need to succeed.
Whippy interrupts my thoughts by asking for my advice going forward. “How did you create The Ghost, Mr. O’Shea?”
It’s a sound question.
“My trainer, my supporters, and the crowd. They created an t-anam, lad. But I had to keep a low profile anyway, because Maguire and Byrne want me to follow my family into the grave.”
The ladies in the living room grow quiet, drawn to hearing my story.
“How d’you find the gall to face your first fight?” Whippy and his brothers lean in, eager to hear my secret.
“I was born with it. I have nothing to prove, so it goes without saying that I have nothing to lose.” I lock eyes with Saoirse. “The only thing I feared to lose was taken from me six years ago.”
Saoirse stands up and thanks Mrs. Ahern for the tea.
Taking my cue from her, I give the Aherns a nod. “And when can I see you for training?”
We part as more than friends. We part as comrades.
Saoirse slides behind the wheel. “I hope we’re going to see the boys you humiliated next.”
She has no idea that I’m gathering an army. “Sure, but not tonight. Let them stew a while longer.”
I like that she accepts my decision, but she doesn’t head back to the warehouse.
“Hang a left here.” I prompt her.
She shakes her head. “I want to stop at a pharmacy. I need emergency contraception and to start a new pill cycle.”
My hand grabs the wheel. “I have someone who can get all that stuff for you. Let’s just go home.”
Saoirse looks stubborn, so I layer it on thick. “I can’t take the risk. One of your realtors or receptionists might be at the same pharmacy, darlin’. Please.”
She deliberates for a split second before conceding. “Okay. Thanks. But please can we organize it tonight? I can’t risk falling pregnant, Finn.”
I’m not going to have this argument with a beginner driver behind the wheel.
***
I forgot that this is Saoirse I’m dealing with. She’s like a dog with a bone.
“Call one of your guys, Finn. I need my meds. I want someone to go to the pharmacy for me.”
That’s how she greets me in the morning.
I don’t have the patience to keep lying.
“I’ll see you in hell before I let you put that shite into your body, mo chroí.”
Her tone is pale, like she wants me to know the color of betrayal.
“You promised…”
“No,” I’m full of the spirit of patience this morning after a mug of coffee. “I didn’t promise. I said I have someone who can get stuff for you.”
Her stillness is a sign of how furious she is. “So, you lied.”
I ramp up my Irish charm settings. “Sure, but didn’t I warn you that I’m the Prince of Lies?”
She shuts down. No drinking or eating. Complete silence.
When I touch her, she shrugs off my hand like I’m an insect.
Time for me to play my aces.
“Do you want me to take you to visit Maeve?”
That gets her attention. “You know where my sister is?”
I give her the nod. “You’re my beautiful Irish queen, darlin’. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy. Because I’m the only one who cares… who truly loves…”
And just like that, Saoirse is eating out of my hands again.