“If hewasthere... my God, I left River alone to screw around.”
“That aside, Patrick, Delton has not given up. He isn’t hiding in a dark corner. He is still actively coming for your family, and I assume the O’Connors as well. I spoke with Mr. O’Connor before we boarded. We will keep the same team in Dublin, but he wants protection added to James and Jane.”
“Is the FBI still hunting him because of his dark web shit?”
“Yes. All the information from the editor and the blogger have been sent. The security cameras from Wolves are being analyzed now. They hope to peg Sam in the crowd, disguise or no. They have facial recognition software that should flag him no matter the costume,” he sighed, “but this guy is a professional. His school records before moving online show he had extremely high marks in business classes, but he also excelled in art.”
Ahh, Patrick understood. His disguises might be good enough to fool software. “Why exactly is the FBI interested in him?”
Thomas stared at him for a moment before answering. “I found out,” he stated grimly. “Rape. He videos himself drugging and raping women. Sick fucks rent his videos on the dark web.”
“Jesus. Have you told Dad and Bran?” They would be frantic.
“I just got the intel before takeoff. I plan on meeting with you three, Mr. O’Connor and James, by video, and my men as soon as it can be arranged tomorrow afternoon. I want to make sure the O’Connors can attend, and they’ll be six hours earlier than us.”
“I understand.” Patrick rubbed his head. It ached worse with each revelation. “You realize, at least for now, River will not let me help keep her safe?” A crushing sense of despair threatened to drown him.
“They will be properly guarded. At all times.” Patrick nodded his gratitude. “At our meeting, I plan on discussing with Hugh and Mr. O’Connor the necessity of telling the women of Delton’s crimes. They need to know. They’ll understand the heightened safety protocols if they understand the gravity of the situation.”
“I agree.” Patrick looked at MacGregor then. “I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for how well you guard our families. I truly appreciate you and your people.”
Thomas nodded. Accepting the thanks. “For what it’s worth, in my time around your family, I wouldn’t describe O’Faolains as quitters. Is that a correct assumption?”
“Yes.”
“Then I hope you stop beating yourself up sooner than later. I learned that lesson the hard way. In the military, I lost friends, good friends, and I almost lost myself to anger and regret.”
“How did you get over it?”
“My Granny. I had some leave and went home to visit. During dinner one night, she hit me upside the head with a wooden spoon. Hard. The spoon was covered in stew, by the way. I was pissed and asked her why she did it. Mind me now, Pat, I had been all but impossible to be around.
“She’d had enough of my attitude apparently— asked me if being an arsehole would bring my friends back. I admitted it wouldn’t. While wiping bits of tatties and gravy from my scalp, Granny told me that the way to honor my friends was to remember them. Blaming myself put the focus on me. Not them.
“She was right. I wallowed in guilt that I shouldn’t have even been carrying. I was getting in my way. Focus on your goal and then do everything you can to achieve it. It’s the only thing men like us, who care deeply, can do to carry on.”
Patrick had the goal and the beginning of a game plan, but Macgregor was right. Wallowing in pity only put the focus on himself. “Thank you, MacGregor. I’m working on a plan, and I have no intention of losing.”
11
It took five days for the weather to clear enough for flights to safely resume. Five fucking days. Patrick was going out of his mind. He’d stayed in Tulsa during the snowstorm, doing nothing but sitting in the dark brooding over all the ways he’d wronged River— and there were many.
She‘d blocked him from her phone and social media. Her sisters blocked him too. Patrick assumed his dad and brother would like to block him as well, but then they wouldn’t be able to yell at him. He deserved it. He deserved worse.
His dad was so angry that the first time he called Patrick, he only said one word.Why?He asked if Bran was there. He was. He asked to be put on speaker. And then he told them every way he’d had hurt River. He attempted to explain his irrational fear about commitment, but he floundered for words.
He told them about Miranda. That she was someone he’d hooked up with before. He admitted to being confused by his feelings for River and had made the worst possible choice. When Miranda asked him to step outside in the garden, he agreed. He regretted the decision immediately but allowed her to climb on his lap.
He’d kissed her.
He was so ashamed.
He believed River would never speak to him again. Forgive him.
They were silent as he tried to get hold of his emotions— to stop crying.
Finally, Bran broke the silence. “You aren’t the only O’Faolain around here to fuck up. I lost Raven for a while and almost lost the chance to be a part of my son’s life. I understand screwing up, Pat. It’s what you do from here on out that matters now. I’ll stand by you because we’re family, and I love you, but I won’t step between the sisters.”
“You have an uphill battle, Son, but I will never hold your mistakes against you. We all make them. I agree with Bran, though. I won’t go against what the sisters want. River needs time to heal, and they’ve thrown up barricades all the way around her, even from us. It will take time.”
