I knew Patrick was devastated. I knew how devastated he was. But Peg wasn’t getting out of bed, and Patrick wasn’t going in to work, and something had to happen. Life hadn’t stopped, but the two Gallaghers had. They’d come to a complete standstill, and I was terrified out of my mind.
“Peg, are you hungry?” I called quietly into her darkened bedroom. I didn’t want to wake her up if she was sleeping, but she hadn’t been eating very much. Her slight frame couldn’t afford to miss any more meals.
“I’m goin’ to sleep for a while longer,” she called back, her voice scratchy. “I’ll have somethin’ a little later.”
I sighed in defeat, but left her alone. Who was I to force her? She’d just lost the love of her life, and I had no idea how I’d react in that situation. Even the thought of Patrick dying made my stomach turn.
I made my way into the kitchen and began making one of the only breakfasts I could prepare without completely ruining. I was the first one up that morning, but I’d heard Patrick moving around after I’d slid out of bed. It wasn’t as if he’d been sleeping.
He came into the kitchen behind me, resting his hand on my hip as he kissed the back of my head.
“Smells good.”
He sat down at the table with a cup of coffee, and we didn’t say a word as I finished cooking. He didn’t say much anymore, and I was afraid if I opened my mouth I’d either burst into tears or start screaming. I took long, deep breaths to calm myself down.
“You have to go to work today.” I told Patrick as I brought his plate of fried eggs to the table.
“I will.”
“I have to go in tonight, too.” I tried to hold a conversation with him, keeping my voice level in an attempt to get back to some kind of normal, but his monotone answer was like hearing nails scratch across a blackboard. “You should come straight home, so someone is here with Peg.”
“I’ll come by de pub.”
“No, Peg needs someone here.”
“I said I’ll come by de pub.”
His voice still hadn’t lost the flat quality I’d come to expect, and I wanted to scream in frustration.
“No, you won’t!” I snapped, unable to keep the temper out of my voice. “You’ll come home and take care of your goddamn mother!”
Patrick’s jaw clenched and a red flush ran up his neck as he began to tap that stupid pattern on the tabletop with the tips of his fingers.
“Stop it!”
“Ye t’ink ye can dictate to me?” He asked incredulously, standing from the table. “I t’ink ye’ve forgotten where ye fit in dis house.”
“Fuck you.” I hated the words spilling out of his mouth, but got a small surge of satisfaction at the emotion I’d finally evoked. “I’m the only one doing anything around here. I get it, okay? I know you guys are hurting. But no one is telling me what’s going on, we no longer have a car, none of us have worked in over a week…”
“Ye want to know what’s goin’ on?” he asked, leaning over the table until he was inches from my face. “It was a warnin.’ Only no one has contacted me to tell me what de fuck dey were warnin’ us about. I’ve no idea where de next hit will come from. What will be next? Mum? Ye?”
I began to shake as a red flush of anger spread up his neck. I’d instinctively known that what happened to Robbie hadn’t been random, but hearing it spelled out turned my fear into a physical thing, a pressure on my chest that made it feel as if I couldn’t breathe.
“I’ll be at de pub tonight.” Patrick said, his voice calming. “Tell Casey dat ye’ll be a few minutes late because I’m walkin’ ye over.”
“You said we’d be okay,” I whispered back. “When I told you I was scared, you said you’d handle it.”
His eyes clouded over before they shut entirely, and his head dropped down in defeat. What the hell was going on in our lives? How was this normal?
I didn’t understand how people could live like that. I didn’t understand why a man would willingly choose a side in a war with no winner, putting himself and his family in danger. For what? What the fuck could be that important? I knew then with absolute clarity why Peg had kicked Robbie out all those years ago. She loved him, but sometimes you had to jump ship if you wanted to save yourself.
“I don’t want to do this,” I said quietly, standing from the table.
The words hit him like a blow and he reared back in surprise.
“Do what?”
“I don’t want this life. I don’t want to be worried every time I leave the house. I don’t want to bring children into this shit!”
He let me move around him, but followed me into the bedroom.
“So what? Yer goin’ to leave me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ye don’t know? Where de fuck would ye go? I’m yer goddamn husband.”
We were yelling, facing off inside that tiny bedroom. My mind was a jumbled mess of contradictions. I loved him, but I couldn’t see a way for him to ever get out of the mess he was in. I wanted to leave. I wanted to take Peg and Patrick and leave the country—go far away where no one would find us. But that wasn’t reality.
The reality was that I was married to a man whose time was limited. It didn’t matter if the IRA believed his loyalty and continued to use him. There would still come a time that the things he was doing would catch up to him, and he’d either go to jail or he’d go in the ground. It was heartbreakingly inevitable.
“I wish I hadn’t married you.”
His back hit the wall as he stared at me in horror. “Do not ever say dat again.”
I began rubbing at my hands as we stared at each other in the silent room. He looked like hell. His face was gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved his face in so long it had gone beyond a five o’clock shadow and had turned into a scruffy looking beard. His clothes were clean, but they seemed to hang off him oddly as if they no longer fit. He was unraveling before my eyes, and I didn’t know what to do.
“I love ye,” he said, breaking the silence. “I love ye more den anyt’in’ or anyone on dis earth. I’ll figure dis all out. I just needed a few days, dat’s all. I just needed to get me head toget'er.”
I nodded, unsure of what would come out of my mouth if I attempted to speak.
“Don’t do dat, me love,” he said in the same tone, stepping toward me to take my hands in his. “Ye’ll make dem worse.”
I glanced down to see barely raised welts on my hands, aggravated from where I’d been rubbing them.
He pulled me into his arms then, and the comfort of his scent and his strong muscles resting against my body were impossible to ignore. I wished we could stay like that forever, safe from the rest of the world in our tiny room.
“I’ll better be off if I’m goin’ in to work,” Patrick said, pulling away slightly. He leaned down to brush my lips with his, and the heat of his mouth seemed to spread throughout my body in a large wave. He’d barely touched me in over a week, and even though the move hadn’t been sexual, it still made me a little needy. I leaned onto my toes as our lips brushed again, and when he felt me reaching, his tongue slid out nervously to lick across my bottom lip.
We moved into a sensual kiss without thought, rubbing and sucking at each other’s mouths. It wasn’t a prelude to anything, there was no urgency in it, but I don’t think anything could have been more perfect at that moment.
“Charlie and Vera will be over today,” Patrick informed me as he finally pulled away with a squeeze of my hips. “He’ll stay until I’m home tonight.”
I thought about my new best friend while I watched Patrick begin to change for work, pulling on a ratty flannel that was covered in grease stains and an old pair of jeans. I’d spent time with Vera after the night we’d met, having lunch and following her around while she shopped for souvenirs, but it hadn’t been until my life had become so out-of- control that I’d realized how deep our friendship went. She was loyal, unflaggingly so, and a car blowing up in front of my house h
adn’t seemed to change her opinion of me in the slightest.
Vera acted as if it was normal. She was conscious of our grief, and helped out as much as she could, but she didn’t go overboard. She wasn’t whispering and looking over her shoulder like the neighbors had been in the days after Robbie’s death. She’d just pitched in when she could and sat with me for hours, even if I didn’t have anything to say.
She’d arrived every morning for the past week, sometimes with Charlie and other times with the big, smelly guy she’d pointed out in the pub the night we’d met. She’d stay all day, helping with chores and gossiping about movie stars while Charlie sat on the couch watching television with a silent Patrick or the big guy sat on the front stairs outside. She was just there, with no hidden agenda or preconceived ideas about us.
She was the best friend I’d ever had.
“I’m sorry I said I wished I didn’t marry you,” I said as Patrick sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. “I’m not sorry.”
“I know yer not.” He tugged me into his lap. “I know yer scared, darlin’. Just stick wit’ me, eh? I’ll fix dis.”
“I wish you didn’t have to work today.” I laid my head on his shoulder and pressed my forehead into his neck.
“First she orders me to work and den she says she wants me to stay home,” he announced to the room, sounding like my old Patrick.
“I know, I’m all over the place lately.”
“Maybe yer pregnant?” he asked, laying his hand on my belly.
“Not this time, Mr. Gallagher. I’m just coming off my period.” It still surprised me how comfortable I was with sharing intimate details of my body with him, but it had been that way almost from the start. He knew everything about me, every curve and mole had been mapped. My body held no secrets anymore.
“We’ll have to work harder dis mont’,” he teased gently, pulling me closer.
“I’m not sure we should,” I mumbled into his neck, already sure of his reaction. “Maybe—”
“De church is very clear on birt’ control, wife.”
“It’s a stupid rule. Do you really want to bring our child into our life right now?”
“It’s not up to us to decide which rules are meant to be broken.”
“It’s my body.”
“Is it not me decision too, den?”
“Of course it is.” I sighed, annoyed that I’d even brought it up.
“I know dat I’ve not been de best man, especially in de church’s eyes,” he said into my hair, rubbing my back softly. “But I cannot agree wit’ puttin’ t’ings into yer body to stop ye from havin’ a child. Me child. To me, it would be like refusin’ a gift from God because it wasn’t convenient for us. Who’s to say dat we’d ever be offered de gift again?”
“Your reasoning is medically unsound, but I understand your point.”
“Medically unsound? Ye’ve been readin’ again, I see.”
“It’s been quiet around here.”
“I know it has.” He tightened his arms around me then tapped my back twice, signaling for me to stand up. “I’ve got to move or I’ll be late.”
He kissed me goodbye, just a quick peck on the lips, and was gone. I really did hate that he had to go to work, even though I’d been dying for him to go just an hour before. We may not have figured anything out, but I felt marginally better about things once we’d discussed them.
Knowing that Patrick was working on a solution instead of just staring at the walls made me feel almost optimistic. As long as we were together, we could figure it out, I told myself. We just had to be careful for now, until we knew what we were dealing with.
When I made my way out of our room, Peg was sitting at the kitchen table eating a piece of toast. I couldn’t stop the wide smile that spread across my face as I realized she’d actually gotten dressed and had brushed her hair. It seemed as if both my favorite people had decided to re-join the living that day, and I couldn’t have been happier for the small steps they’d taken.
I spent that morning with a small smile of relief on my face, just knowing that it was going to be a good day.
I’ve often wondered how my instincts could have been so poor.
Chapter 32
Patrick
“I’m sorry.”
My boss’s quiet words followed me out the door. I couldn’t have replied without choking the life out of the weasely little fuck, so I ignored him.
I’d lost my bloody job. Fucking hell.
They’d let me finish work on the car I’d started before my da was killed, but as soon as I’d finished, they’d given me the boot. Fucking bastards were afraid of their own shadows, it was the only way they hadn’t been pulled in to any side of the war that seemed to be tearing my entire life apart. They were sorry, sure, but their fear had been more important than any reservations they had about letting me go.
Mother of God. We were fucked. Mum hadn’t been working, I had no idea when she’d be ready to go back, and now this. My stomach burned at the thought of asking Amy for the cash I knew she kept hidden in our sock drawer, but there was no other way to keep a bloody roof over our heads.
I may as well have just sliced off my balls and handed them to her.
I slammed into the house, letting the door bounce off the wall, and the first thing I saw was Amy standing in the tiny entryway, going through some mail.
“Patrick? Why aren’t you at work?”
“De bastards fuckin’ let me go!”
“What? Why?” Her shoulders slumped and I hated everyone in that moment. Why the fuck couldn’t life ever be fucking easy? Why couldn’t we catch just one break? Just one! I was failing her, and I’d become the man I’d sworn I’d never be, dependent upon my wife’s labors for food on the table and a roof over our heads.
“Dey’re afraid to keep me on. Afraid one of dere cars will blow sky high if dey’re associated wit’ a Gallagher.”
“Shit,” she whispered, her eyes wide and worried in her face. “Baby—”
“I’ll figure it out,” I promised her, my gut burning at her expression.
“I know you will.”
I wrapped my arms around her, and calmed my breathing by huffing in deep breaths of Amy-scented air. My body was practically shaking with anger, but I had to keep it together. I had to figure all of the shit out, and there was no way I could do that intelligently if I was riding on emotion. I needed to be logical.
“You thought any more about my offer?” Charlie asked from where he was watching us on the couch. “It stands.”
“We’ll discuss it later,” I said warningly. I didn’t want to get Amy’s hopes up, but Charlie had offered to bring my family to America. His father owned a big motorcycle shop, and he’d offered me a job there. I was pretty sure his club owned the shop along with the men who worked there, and I didn’t know if I wanted to be beholden to anyone like that.
According to Charlie, it wasn’t like that at all. They were a family whose loyalty was unquestionable. They took care of each other. Woman and children were off limits, always, and they protected each one as if it were their own.
I liked Charlie. During the time he’d been in Ireland, I’d gotten to know the man pretty well, and his word was good. But I’d never seen him under fire. His loyalty hadn’t been tested. My family’s lives couldn’t depend on a man that I’d known for only a couple of weeks.
It did sound wonderful, though. I couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t. It was a new place to build, men who would watch my back, a new life for Mum and me and a place where Amy would feel a little more at home. Still, I was leery. I would be exchanging the devil I knew for one I didn’t.
Someone began knocking on the door and before I could drop my head wearily to Amy’s shoulder, my instincts had kicked in and she was shoved behind me. My gun was pulled out of the back of my jeans and Charlie was on his feet within seconds. He lifted his head toward the door, and I nodded once before stepping forward to open it up.
 
; I’ll never forget the sight that greeted me.
Chapter 33
Amy
She was bloody.
Her curly, golden hair was matted and knotted with it.
She was shorter than me.
She was pregnant.
And her hands were smaller than mine. The one I could see looked tiny clutching the back of my husband’s work shirt.
But she was bloody. I had to focus on that.
Her face was swollen, her lips split in three different spots. There was blood beneath her ear, but I couldn’t tell if it had come from there or had been smeared from one of her other scratches.
She was sobbing. Scared. Holding onto Patrick like he was the only thing that could save her.
“I’ll call my dad and have him send Doc over. Thank Christ the old shit came with us,” Charlie said as he looked out the door and then shut and locked it.
“Yer Da has a doctor?”
“Close enough.”
I stood frozen as everyone broke into action around me, until Vera pinched my side hard. “Put it away. Swallow it all up until we know what we’re dealing with.”
I nodded vaguely, still watching as Patrick tried to soothe the hysterical woman.
“Now Amy,” Vera ordered as she moved past me to get to Patrick.
“We need to lay her down somewhere until we know what’s wrong,” Vera told Patrick calmly over the sound of the woman’s crying and Charlie talking to his dad on the phone in the kitchen.
Patrick nodded as Peg came rushing out of her bedroom. She must have heard the commotion, there’s no way she wouldn’t have. The woman was fucking loud.
“What’s going on?” she asked me, her voice full of worry.
“I don’t know.” It all seemed like it was happening somewhere else, like I wasn’t even present.
I watched as Patrick gently lifted the woman into his arms and moved around me and Peg. He paused at the couch for a moment, and his face looked pained as he glanced at me for a split second before carrying the woman into our bedroom.
It snapped me out of the stupor we were in, and I raced to the kitchen to wet a rag. Maybe if we cleaned up a little of the blood, it wouldn’t seem so bad. Head wounds always bled a lot, and the split lips and the scratch on her cheek hadn’t even scabbed over yet. I followed Vera and Peg, who had burst into action once she’d gotten a good look at the woman, but when I reached the doorway I couldn’t go any farther. The room wasn’t built to hold so many people, and it seemed even smaller than normal as I watched detachedly as Patrick sat next to the woman on the bed, brushing her hair carefully out of her face.