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“She said that?” Rory asks, his mouth slack.
“Aye, sorry, big lad. I don’t know if her dad has got to her, but the whole night, she made it awful obvious she was interested in me. I don’t know why,” I add because the feeling was definitely not reciprocated.
We’re in a rental as we would never drive our own cars into Dublin, but I suddenly wish I was because Rory is sulking. I wanted to be honest and let him know what happened tonight. However, now I wish I’d kept my bake shut.
“I can’t get my head around it. I mean, we kissed a couple of nights ago.”
I shrug because I don’t have an answer. I’m just as confused as he is.
“Darcy is a melt,” Cian says, trying to lighten the mood. “At least ya know now.”
But Rory doesn’t see it in that way. He’s been mad about Darcy for as long as I can remember, so I can imagine knowing this has him rippin’.
“Ack, what does yer dad want with the Duffys anyway?”
“Fuck if I know. But at a guess, Patrick’s portfolio is probably a good place to start.”
“Yer dad is a real wanker,” Rory angrily says.
I don’t argue because I agree.
Tea at the Duffys’ was painful and long, and Darcy trying to discreetly play footsie with me under the table made it worse. I don’t know what’s caused this forward response from her, but I don’t like it.
Nothing she says or does will change my mind and having Babydoll feet away just confirmed it. It just proved I’ll never want Darcy the way I do Babydoll.
I don’t understand these feelings I have for her. I hardly know her. But I can’t deny that whenever she’s near, I seek her out. I’m drawn to her.
She ignored me the entire time I was at the Duffys’, but her breathless whimpers when she leant over to refill my glass or collect an empty dish revealed she also feels whateverthisis. There is still one small problem, and that is, Babydoll is a thief. Therefore, I can’t trust her nor should I trust whatever this feeling is.
“So ya left without yer mum’s brooch?” asks Cian, interrupting my thoughts.
“Aye. What could I do? I couldn’t exactly frisk her between the main course and afters. Now that I know where she is, I can act, but not tonight. I have other important things to deal with.”
The car falls quiet.
We’re about twenty minutes from arriving at the border, twenty minutes where everything is about to change. We went over everything we know about the Doyles or, more specifically, Brody Doyle. This information is either hearsay or things we’ve earwigged on.
Our parents would rather the Doyles didn’t exist; therefore, talk about them has been sacrilegious our entire lives, but I can’t live that way any longer. I need answers. I need those who hurt my ma to pay. And tonight is the first step toward achieving that.
“So, we know that Brody has three kids. Two boys and one girl.”
Cian nods, opening his notepad and reading over his scribble. “Aye. The lads are older. The wee girl is the wain of the family.
“The eldest is Liam. He’s dead spit of his da. Hugh is second eldest. He is a wee rip. Likes to punch first, ask questions later. He’s the one we have to look out for. Liam is discreet. Hugh is not.”
“And the daughter?” I ask, needing to arm myself with as much information as I can.
“I couldn’t get much information on her, which makes her dangerous. She could be anyone.”
He’s right. We need to be alert.
The research into the address reveals it’s a pub. When we searched it online, it didn’t say who the owners were. We’re guessing it belongs to the Doyles, but honestly, we could be walking into anything.
Rory taps his fingers against the steering wheel, clearly caught up in other thoughts—such as Darcy. I wish I could empathize with him, but all I see is a huffy bastard. She doesn’t like him, so I’m not sure why he’s stressing over something out of his control.
But that’s just me. I’m not wired like everyone else.
“I still can’t believe Babydoll is the Duffys’ new maid. What a small world, do ya not think?” Cian probes, desperately trying to get a response from me.
