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“And if you keep up with this self-deprecating bullshit,” she continued, “I will personally slap you.”
Her expression was stern, shining with a sorrowful determination. I knew, without a doubt, she would follow through on her threat. But it wouldn’t hurt. Even when she tried her hardest, I was numb. Hell, I deserved a slap to the face. Not just for the Sweeney kid’s death, but for letting her fall in love with me. For choosing to pursue her when I knew it wouldn’t end well.
“Stop it,” she ordered, poking me in the chest with her finger. She’d known what I was thinking—or close to it.
“I love you, dove,” I murmured, leading her to the bedroom. I was exhausted and unnoticeably drunk. I just wanted to hold Emma as I drifted into an alcohol-laden slumber. Maybe watch her sleep for a few minutes, looking innocent and angelic.
“That’s better.” She applauded, climbing into bed. She peeled the white comforter back, hitting my pillow with a shy grin.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Emma
Seeking to expel my bad mood, I decided to run one of my longer routes through Central Park. It was still early—the sun had just crested the skyline of the Upper East Side—but the humidity was killer. Even sticking to the shade, I labored along the off-beaten path, trekking through Belvedere Castle. Once nine o’clock hit and the park became too congested for my liking, I called it quits.
After my run, I grabbed an iced coffee from a street vendor and walked the rest of the way to my apartment—no point in calling Eoghan for what amounted to a few blocks. I hadn’t been home in a while and the little two-bedroom needed scrubbing. Ella would be visiting this weekend and I didn’t want it to look like I never used the place. I didn’t want to make it obvious that I was only moving back for her, which I was.
Showered and clothed, I arrived at the penthouse to find Shannon in one of her better moods. She had good and bad days, which her therapist had told her was normal. We munched on Guillermo’s berry and quinoa salad at the kitchen island as the nanny put Charlotte down for a nap.
Shannon was out of her usual sweats and, most shocking, her lips were a cherry red. I was glad to see her signature makeup, if just for a day. She examined me from across the counter, smirking.
“For once, you look worse than I do,” she joked, popping a baby carrot into her mouth.
I mustered a chuckle. “I feel like it.”
“Jack?” she guessed.
My response was a heavy sigh. I fiddled with my fork, poking at a blueberry. The salad was delicious, but too much effort to eat.
“What did I tell you?” she asked. It was an ‘I told you so,’ but without the mirth. “Jack is a hard person to know.”
She repeated her words from last November. I had thought I’d understood what she had been talking about, but I’d clearly had no idea. Now, the sentiment took on a whole new meaning.
“I see darkness in his eyes.” I balanced my chin on the heel of my hand. “It’s more prevalent than ever before. Why does he keep trying to hide it from me?”
“Because if Jack gives into his demons, he’s scared he’ll lose you. He’s scared you’ll run and never look back.”
“But I’ve seen him at his worst!” I yelled, exasperated. “At Christmas he almost killed Frank. What could be more horrifying than that?”
Shannon grimaced, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I know you won’t run, Emmy. But you haven’t seen him at his worst. Not yet. Soon, I think. He’s crumbling. From what Kieran’s said, he’s not far off.”
“Is there, like, some timetable I don’t know about? A Facebook event to alert me? Has he done this before?”
Shannon shook her head, giving me a meaningful look. “Never at this magnitude. Never when he’s got so much at stake.”
“What do I do when he reaches rock bottom?” I pleaded.
“I don’t know, babe. Jack’s been a different person since he met you. You know him better than any of us at this point. My best advice is to follow your intuition.”
Head in my hands, I groaned. “That’s not helpful at all.”
Shannon rummaged around in the fridge, pulling out a bag of green grapes and setting them in the sink to wash. “Then you’re going to hate what I’m about to tell you.”
Oh, God. I didn’t know if I could handle any more bad news. What could it be? Another murder? Ours or theirs?
“Charlie and I are moving to Ireland,” she said, turning to watch my reaction. “I’ve been talking with Roisin. We’re going to live with her on the O’Connell farm. I’m sick of being cooped up in this penthouse. Charlie hasn’t been outside since the ride home from the hospital. She can’t grow like this. I want her to breathe fresh air. To be able to play outside without a security detail. To make friends without needing a background check on their parents first.”
Shannon’s face brightened at the picture she painted. A smile spread across my face as well. This was the best news I’d heard all summer.
