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He’s getting angrier, and my frustration is building. This is not how I wanted to spend my Thanksgiving.
“I’m not leaving you alone here, so either we sit here or you let me take you home.”
He doesn’t say anything, just takes another swig of his whiskey. He’s dangerously close to the bottom of the bottle, and I’m starting to wonder how he got here, or how he was planning on getting home.
A few minutes later, he waves the bottle in front of my face.
“Dr… dr… want some?”
“Yes, please.” I take the bottle from him before he can change his mind and take a small sip, letting the burn warm me. I place the bottle to my left behind us, hopefully out of his reach––actually, I’m hoping he forgets he had a bottle.
I watch him stare at Rory’s headstone for a few more minutes, letting him process whatever it is he came here to process.
“Come on, big guy, let’s get you home.”
I try to lift him, but body his body doesn’t even move. Jesus, he’s heavy.
“Fail… I failed.”
I stop trying to pick him up and bend down to look in his face.
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone. I failed them. Fai… him...”
I watch as a single tear escapes and runs down the right side of his face, and my heart breaks for him. I reach out and wipe it away.
“Ronan, I don’t understand, you haven’t failed anyone. What makes you think that?”
“They died… my job, I…” He sniffs and looks around. I think he’s looking for his whiskey, so I try and distract him.
“Talk to me, Ronan, please…”
“Sho… I, pro… protect.”
His speech is getting worse, I don’t think we should do this here. I stand in front of him and hook my hands under his armpits.
“I need you to help me here, you’re going to have to try and stand when I lift, okay?”
He looks in my eyes, and even though he’s drunk, I see the desire. He leans up towards me as if he’s going to kiss me, but I pull back and turn slightly. If it bothers him, he doesn’t show it, but to be honest, I think he might be too drunk to notice.
I spent twenty minutes trying to get him to stand, then another ten minutes trying to get him to the car. He stumbles a couple of times on the way there, and thankfully, my driver spotted us and came running to help.
I’m now standing over his sofa, pulling off his shoes and trousers. They’re wet from the ground at the cemetery, and between that and his body being a dead weight, it’s taking all my strength to get them off.
I grab him a bottle of water and place it on the floor by him and pull the blanket I took off the bed over him. I watch him for a moment. I feel his pain, I’ve always felt it since the day I met him. I just wish I knew how to help him; I wish he’d let me.
I look around the penthouse. It’s nice. I’m going to kick his ass and his family’s for not telling me he lived in the same damn building.
His hand grabbing my arm pulls my attention back to him.
“Stay, peace. I don’t…”
“Don’t what, big guy?”
“Deser... you, peace.”
Chapter 14
