I couldn't help smiling at the sight of Margaret's warm, open smile. She had provided nursing care for Fionn or me more times than I could count, whether it was back in the days when we ourselves got in fights we couldn't avoid on the streets, or whether she answered our call to help someone else who didn't want to make a trip to the hospital for one reason or another. She was good and kind and didn't force answers we didn't want to give.
"My friend got attacked in the street—a knife. She needs a few stitches."
"Aye, so Fionn said. Do ya know who attacked her?"
"Aye."
She studied me for a moment. "All right, well, where is the girl then?"
"She's upstairs in the guest room on the right." I walked her to the stairs and as she ascended, I said, "Thanks, Margaret." She nodded, not looking back.
When she'd disappeared around the corner, I took my phone from my pocket and texted the men I'd met with that morning.
You have a deal. I want your word that no harm will come to Lydia De Havilland ever again.
I paced in a small circle at the base of my stairs until my phone dinged a few minutes later with one simple word. Deal.
A knock sounded on the door, interrupting me from my murderous thoughts. Fionn. "You could have let yourself in," I said.
He shook his head. "I didn't want to disturb anythin'—like maybe Lydia in the act of cuttin' off your ballsack."
"Funny," I muttered, knowing I probably deserved it.
"How is she?" he asked, his smile disappearing.
"She's fine. Just shaken, I think. Fuck me straight to hell, Fionn, they knifed her right in the bloody street. They could have killed her if they'd wanted to, and no one would have been able to stop it." Fionn winced slightly, taking a seat on my couch. I sat down across from him, leaning my head back for a moment, letting out a long exhale, trying to relax. I'd been tense for two days it seemed. "I let them know they have a deal."
Fionn leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "It was a warnin', Brogan. But they'll call 'em off now that you've made a deal. She's safe."
"Yeah." I sat up straight. Fionn was regarding me. "I fucked up," I admitted.
"Yeah, ya did. Ya made a bloody balls out of everythin'. Now ya gona make it right."
"I'm trying. God, I'm trying."
"That's the shot." Fionn smiled. "Who's got ya back?"
I smiled despite myself. He always had. "Thanks, mo chara."
"It's gona be all right. You've done this kind of work before. I know ya don't want to, but, it's not a bad thing to stay on the right side of the mob." He shrugged.
"Yeah," I said, not wanting to get into the reasons I'd been hoping they'd take a cash deal instead of bargaining with my talent for numbers. I'd even offered to pay double what Stuart owed them, and they'd turned me down.
"Now what are ya gona do about Courtney?" Fionn asked, probably as much to turn my mind from the deal I'd made with the mob.
I sighed again. "Manage her as usual."
Fionn shook his head. "Ya need to tell her to feck off. She's manipulatin' ya."
I wasn't stupid. I knew she was. I just wasn't sure what to do about it. Because she was also legitimately scared. Due in large part to what I'd done all those years ago—or more to the point, what I hadn't done.
"And now," Fionn continued, "she's gona come between ya and Lydia. Ya should have seen Lydia's face when ya went upstairs with Courtney last night. I almost kicked your arse meself, ya wanker. But I can see you've been kickin' your own arse so I'm gona be satisfied with that. For now. Ya don't want to tumble with me, mo chara. Ya know that doesn't end well." He winked. We'd only gotten in one physical fight, when we were younger, over something trivial that I could barely recall now. It'd been a straight draw, and we'd both shook hands and let go of whatever the issue had been.
I let out a small sound that might have been a laugh if it contained any humor at all.
We talked business for a few minutes, Fionn telling me about the kid I'd caught stealing food from the food truck and how he'd set him up with a courier job. So far he was a hard worker and was doing well, which was good news.
Talking mundane business helped calm me and get my mind back on track. After a bit, Margaret came downstairs and said Lydia was all taken care of, no problem at all, and she'd given instructions on how to care for the stitches over the next few days, which she gave to me as well. I thanked her profusely, kissing her cheek as she left.
Once Fionn left, I made Lydia a sandwich and carried it up to her room, knocking softly. The room was dim, the bathroom fan was whirring, and she was curled up on the bed, fast asleep. I watched her for a few minutes, despair making me feel sick. I could have lost her today. And I'd only just gotten her back.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lydia
I came awake slowly, my eyes adjusting to the dim light, my memory temporarily held at bay, though I had the feeling something wasn't quite right. I enjoyed the brief moment I knew I had before recollection would tumble in, making me aware of exactly what the something was. As I turned over, the minor ache in my side brought the happenings of earlier that day rushing back. I let out a small sigh, sitting up slowly so as not to pull my stitches.
"How do ya feel?" I startled slightly, noticing the outline of Brogan sitting in the chair by the window.