“Is there something you want to talk to me about, Mrs. Corrigan?” I ask, standing near the couch but not sitting.
She looks at me in a near-panic. “Noreen. Please call me Noreen.”
“Alright, Noreen. What’s going on?”
“I think… maybe… Martin isn’t quite ready to speak with any guests. His argument with Regan was… not good.”
“What happened?” I fight to steady myself. I know this family holds secrets. I can’t imagine Regan’s father has been the best dad in the world. Most likely he’s been a real bastard. But I had assumed that was in the past.
“Whatever Regan told him, Martin got angry.”
“Did he touch her?”
“No, no, nothing like that. But they had a disagreement… I think some choice words were spoken…”
“What did he do to my wife?”
Noreen’s face pales. “He sent her away. Please, Liam, when you talk to him, I’m begging you, whatever you say, please get him to let her come back home. Luke’s missing, and now Martin forbade Regan from stepping foot in this house, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Her shoulders slump. She seems very old and frail as she sits heavily in a chair, hugging herself, drawing inward. I do my best to remain calm, because getting angry won’t help this woman right now, but it’s not fucking easy.
“Noreen, I’m going to ask you something. I want you to answer honestly. Did your husband ever touch Regan? Did he threaten to hurt her?”
“Threats, mostly.” She looks at her hands. “Martin’s under a lot of stress and pressure. He needs things to be a certain way, but children aren’t like that. Children are messy and silly. Martin couldn’t accept it though. He was especially hard on Regan, since she was the oldest, and he flattened her. He crushed her, the way he crushes everything around him, and I think he’ll do it again… I mean, he’ll try to…”
“Listen to me.” I sit across from her on the edge of a couch. “Regan’s my wife now. She’s under my protection, do you understand? Whatever your husband says, he can’t hurt her. He can’t touch her. He shouldn’t even speak to her in a disrespectful manner.”
“I don’t think he knows that yet.”
“He will.” I take her hands on a whim. They’re papery and cold. She squeezes back, eyes watery but not crying. “I don’t know what he put you through, but it’s coming to an end now. I promise.”
“You can’t keep that. Nobody really can. Please, it’s better if you don’t say it.”
“I don’t break my word, not for anything.” I release her and stand. “Stay here. You’ll know when it’s over. Where’s his office?”
She gives me directions. I leave the sitting room. I haven’t felt this clear in a very long time. I haven’t had this kind of purpose since back when I first met Finn and he dragged me from the string of shitty half-lives and hellish abusive psychopaths I was trapped with. Back then life was simple: work for the Whelans, do whatever they needed, never fail them. I built my life around them.
Now I’ve got other responsibilities. I never asked for it, but I have to stop pretending like I don’t feel this way, like Regan hasn’t crawled into my world and radically upended it.
I was cold to her in the diner. I regret that now. I should’ve given her the news about Luke more gently and given her time to come around to the truth. Instead, I was a bastard, and I wish I could take it back. I still don’t know how to do this the right way, but I have to learn for her. I have to be better.
I find her father in his office. His face is red and he’s glaring at a window, a glass of bourbon clenched in a meaty fist. He seems surprised to see me as I step into the room.
“The hell are you doing here?” he grunts, taking a drink. “Did your wife send you?”
“No, Martin, she didn’t.” I close the door behind me.
“Mr. Corrigan.” His eyes narrow. “I may be your father-in-law, but I prefer respect.”
“That’s not how things are anymore, Martin.”
His jaw tenses. “You sure Regan didn’t send you here?”
I walk toward him. “You fucked up. Do you know that?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Lankshear, but this is my house. You will show me respect.”
“No, I’m going to show you where you stand.” I saunter closer. “The Whelans trusted you. They put their faith in your operation. You run one of the most efficient and best-protected laundering schemes on the planet, and that gives you power. Money always does. But you still fucked up.”
