Chapter Twenty-One
Ronin
I’m going over the week’s numbers when my office door flies open and slams against the wall.
My hand goes straight to the drawer where I keep my gun, my fingers closing around the grip by the time Sully O’Malley storms in, his face red with fury.
Kathleen follows a step behind him. I let go of the gun but leave the drawer open, leaning back in my chair as I look from one to the other.
I haven’t seen the bitch since my wedding day.
What the fuck is she doing in my office now? I don’t have to wait long to find out.
“You’ve got some nerve!” Sully shouts, jabbing a thick finger at me, spit flying from his mouth.
I raise an eyebrow. “You want to tell me what you’re accusing me of, or do you want me to guess?”
“You got my Kathleen pregnant!” he snaps. “You think I don’t know? You think I wouldn’t find out?”
I look past him to Kathleen. She stands just behind her father, watching me with a smug little smile like she thinks she has me cornered. I make a show of looking down at her stomach.
Flat.
A slow smirk pulls at my mouth. “If you’re pregnant,” I say evenly, “it isn’t mine.” The colour drains from her face. What the fuck did she expect? That I’d let her get away with this shit?
“I haven’t touched you since the night of my stag.
When you fucked me in the back seat of my Cadillac.
” I look back at Sully. He looks ready to come across the desk and wrap his hands around my throat, but I keep going.
“I was piss drunk when your daughter told me she’d give me a ride home.
” I let out a short laugh. “She gave me a ride all right. Just not the one I’d asked for. ”
For a moment, she looks between me and her father.
Then she steps out from behind him and comes closer, and the act changes.
“Ronin.” Her voice drops low. “You don’t have to do this.
She’s gone. Your wife left. She’s not coming back.
Everyone knows it.” She spreads her hands, watching my face for a reaction.
When she doesn’t get one, she tries something else.
Her mouth softens into a pout as she takes another step closer.
“What’s she got that I don’t? I’ve known you longer than she ever did.
My da’s worked for your family longer than her family’s even been in this country.
” She tilts her head slightly. “You don’t have to be alone. I could—”
“Stop.” The word comes out flat. I reach into the open drawer and set the gun on the desk in front of me.
Both of them go still. “Do you remember what I said to you outside my wedding reception?” I ask quietly.
Panic flashes in Kathleen’s eyes, but I don’t give her a chance to answer.
“No?” I hold her gaze. “I told you what would happen if you made one more wrong move. I believe I said a walk to the Summer Street Bridge would be in order.” I pause.
“Looks like it’s time we took that walk. ”
Sully swears under his breath and grabs Kathleen by the arm, yanking her back from the desk. “We’re leaving.” He hauls her toward the door. For once, she keeps her mouth shut. They leave the door open behind them, their hurried footsteps fading down the hall.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, getting to my feet. I cross to the bar cart and pour myself a drink, more pissed at myself than either of them. If I hadn’t fucked around on Alannah, Kathleen never could’ve pulled this shit in the first place.
***
The pounding on my front door starts before I’ve finished my coffee the next morning. I’m still pissed about the O’Malleys and in no mood for more bullshit, so I don’t move. No one comes here. Not since I moved in.
The pounding stops. For a few seconds, I think whoever it is has given up. Then it starts again, harder this time. This had better be important. I push back from the table and head for the door. When I yank it open, Seamus and my da stand on the step. “What the fuck do you two want?” I grumble.
“Morning to you too,” my da says.
“Whatever this is, I don’t have the patience for it.” I start to close the door, but my da plants a hand against it and pushes it wider, stepping past me. Seamus follows him in.
“Don’t mind me. It’s only my house,” I mutter as I go after them into the front room.
They take the sofa. Da’s eyes go straight to the corner—cardboard boxes of Christmas decorations stacked against the wall exactly where I left them in December, still unopened.
He looks back at me, one brow raised. “Don’t ask. ”
Seamus pulls an envelope from the inside pocket of his coat and sets it on the coffee table between us. “This came from the chancery.” I look at it but leave it where it is. “Malachy moved faster than expected. The grounds are non-consummation and the conduct at the reception. Together they’re—”
“I know what they are,” I say. “But I’m not signing it.”
Seamus exhales slowly through his nose. “Ronin, we’ve been through this—”
I lift a hand, cutting him off. “I said I’m not signing it.”
Seamus and my da exchange a glance as I look down at the envelope. Ever since Malachy’s first letter arrived, I’ve been quietly asking around for someone who could get me into Ireland. Yesterday, I finally got a name.
I’m done waiting. If Alannah won’t come home, I’ll go to her.
“Ronin.” Seamus tries again. “You need to think about what you’re doing.” He stresses every word as though I need the obvious spelled out for me.
“I have,” I say.
My da watches me, concern in his eyes. He doesn’t know what I’m planning, but he knows me well enough to see I’ve already made up my mind.
Nothing either of them says is going to change it.
I stand. “Leave the letter,” I say. “I’ll deal with it.
” Neither of them makes a move to leave. “I said I’ll deal with it.”
That finally gets them both to their feet. Da starts for the door, but Seamus pauses at the coffee table and taps the envelope once with his finger. “Use your head, Ronin.” Then he follows Da out.
I wait until I hear their car pull away, then shrug into my jacket and leave the house.
There’s a man at the docks I need to see.