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“Oh, grow up, Mellie. He kills whoever he’s told to. It’s literally his job. She hasn’t been seen since Seamus dragged her down there. What, that’s some wicked coincidence?”
I’m about to argue with her, but I remember Niall coming into the bar that night. Off-balance. Needing to stare into my eyes and hold my hand. Holy crap.
I swallow down the bile rising in my throat as Fiona nods, patting my hand comfortingly.
“Catching on, are we?” she asks softly. But I shake my head.
“He had no choice. As you said, Seamus would have ordered it, and besides, Tahlie was trying to get Tiggykilled.”
We do shots until Fiona throws up, and I bundle her into a cab, sending her home. Sliding into my own cab, I hug my purse to my chest as I give the cemetery's name.
The cabbie’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t argue, driving me there and taking my cash. Stumbling out of the car, I keep hugging my bag, finding my dad’s headstone, and sinking in front of it.
I curl up, hugging my knees, and tell him everything that’s happened since I was here last year. I haven’t been able to stomach visiting him before now. I should do better. I’m a terrible daughter.
I tell him about Mom’s drunken phone calls. I tell him about working at Oracle. I tell him about my new friendships with Fiona and Tiggy. Mostly I tell him about Niall.
If Dad were alive, he’d probably tell me to stay thehellaway from Niall. Or, more likely, he’d march down to Oracle and tell Niall to stay the hell away from me.
But if Niall had been anyone else – without all thereaping– Dad would probably tell me to go for it. With that thought in mind, I cry, sobbing into the ground at the base of my dad’s headstone.
It’s where I am when Niall finds me. I have no idea how he found me unless maybe he follows me. I’m surprisingly okay with that. If he’s following me, it must mean, on some level, deep down, he cares. Right?
Sighing, murmuring soft words in Irish that I don’t understand, Niall scoops me up, cradling me against his broad, strong chest as he carries me to his SUV, placing me in and securing my seatbelt.
I have no idea if the trip passes fast or slow because I am wicked drunk, but it feels like no time has passed, and we’re pulling up at my curb. Boo. I want more time with Niall.
He gently lifts me out of the SUV, carrying me upstairs and waiting outside my bathroom while I shower away the dirt from the cemetery.
“You could come and help me wash my back,” I giggle, sniffing and winking at him. I probably look a mess, covered in dirt and grass, streaked with tears –but it’s worth a shot.
“Ye’re drunk, lass. I’m not about to take advantage of ye.”
I so wouldn't mind. I don’t want to scare him off by seeming desperate, so I take myself off to shower, tugging on the T-shirt he left on the basin and opening the door, stumbling into his waiting arms.
Lifting me again, Niall carries me to bed, tucking me in. I sigh, waiting for him to leave so I can cry some more, but he doesn’t.
Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, Niall picks up my hand, smoothing his thumb over the palm.
“Are ye okay, lass?”
“No,” I whisper in a small, broken voice.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s dead.”
“Yer pa?”
“Yes.” Sobs rip out of me. Niall’s hand tightens on mine.
“Tell me about him, lass.”
I do. I sob my heart out, telling Niall all about what a great guy my dad was, how much I miss him, and how he always kept me safe, no matter what.
Eventually, I drift off, unable to keep my swollen, gritty eyes open anymore. As I fall asleep, I swear I hear Niall mutter, “I’llalways keep ye safe,amhuirnín, no matter what.”
Niall
