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“To reconsider some of the choices you’ve made. To fight for the life you want instead of the one your name gives you.”
The comment stung, not because of the insinuation that Nolan had been handed his privilege — that was true — but because of the accusation that he had been a passenger in the vehicle of his life since leaving the Syndicate, that in leaving it, in letting Bridget go without a fight, he’d given up.
“What if I don’t want to reconsider?” Nolan asked. “What if this is the life I want?”
“Only you know if that’s true,” Marchand said. “But I would hope at the very least you would be concerned with the first of my reasons for coming.”
Bridget. He was talking about Bridget. Marchand was banking on the fact that she was the one thing Nolan couldn’t easily cast off.
And the fucker was right.
“I’ll talk to her,” Nolan said. “But that’s it. Whatever she says, whatever she does, I’m out after that. No infiltrating of O’Brien’s operation. No getting involved.”
Even as he said it he wondered if he would have the strength to stand by the assertion. If he would be able to walk away from Bridget Monaghan a second time. If he would be able to go back to pretending she wasn’t the most important thing that had ever been his.
7
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Bridge?” Rachel’s brow was furrowed, her deep blue eyes filled with concern.
They were at The Chipp having their customary Friday night beer before it got packed with neighborhood boys pretending to be men. Bridget had filled Rachel in on the meeting with Seamus, on her feeling that something big was coming, something dangerous.
“We’re way past whether it’s a good idea,” Bridget said, taking a drink of her beer.
“Okay, but there’s never going to be an ideal time to get out. At some point, you’ll have to make the break and deal with the consequences,” Rachel said, tucking a piece of dark hair behind one ear.
“It’s not that simple.” The words came out harsher than Bridget intended.
“I know,” Rachel said. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She turned her head and looked around the bar like someone might overhear her. “I’m just worried about you is all.”
Bridget sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Rachel had been her best friend since the first grade when Jimmy Blaine had tied Bridget’s shoelaces together, causing her to trip. Rachel had repaid him in kind, then kicked him in the stomach while he was down, something that had caused her to get the belt from her dad, who was not easy with the belt.
“We could try fundraising for Owen,” Rachel suggested, ignoring the tense exchange. It wasn’t the first time they’d gotten bitchy with each other and it wouldn’t be the last. “I bet the neighborhood police and fire departments would help. We could even set up an online push, record some videos, see if we can get something to go viral, maybe get a celebrity involved.”
“That sounds awful.” Bridget laughed. “But thank you.”
Rachel was a marketing coordinator for an investment firm downtown. Like Bridget, she’d worked her way through night school to get her degree and was working two jobs to pay down her student loans and help her parents with expenses at home.
“You wouldn’t have to do a thing,” Rachel said. “I could handle the whole thing for you. I’d love to help. Then you could start paying Seamus off out of your salary from the clinic.”
Bridget squeezed her hand. “I appreciate it, but Owen wouldn’t want to be put on display like that. He’s already embarrassed. I couldn’t do that to him.”
Rachel opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it and finished her beer instead.
“What?” Bridget asked.
Rachel shook her head. “You’ll just get pissed.”
“I’ll get over it. What were you going to say?”
Rachel bit her lip. “You could go to Nolan.” Bridget started to interrupt and Rachel held up a hand to stop her. “Just hear me out, Bridge. He loved you. Like, he really, really loved you. And that kind of love doesn’t just disappear. He would help you if he knew you needed it, no strings attached.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can,” Rachel said. “It’s not like he’s going to miss it.”
“It’s not about that.” She hesitated. “I just… I can’t. I can’t go to him for help without telling him about the money from Moira, and I could never face him again after telling him about that.”
