Catch Him(10)

The absence of drama might be calm or even peace. That was not what her life was like right now. Her life was colorless. David brought lots of color. He was the full box of 64 Crayons.

“Thank you,” she said spontaneously.

He quirked his lips. “For what?”

“For taking me out. Showing me a good time. Doesn’t that warrant a thank you?”

“I find most women expect to be shown a good time on a date.”

“Well, I’m not one of them. I recognize that when it happens, it’s special and shouldn’t be taken lightly. Beer, hot dogs, baseball… my favorite things. But I also really liked being fancy last night. The clothes, the food, the wine. That was special too.”

He looked at her then. “Then why did you feel the need to run away from me last night? It was as if you were scared of me.”

She winced. “What made you think that?”

“It was the click, click of the shoes as you ran across your apartment complex that did it.”

Sinead took a bite of her hot dog. After she swallowed, she shrugged. It was a good enough excuse. “Okay, I guess I got a little scared. You can be a little intimidating.”

His eyes narrowed. “Nope. I don’t believe that. I’m the least intimidating person I know. Try again. Besides, you’re a cop. Scared and intimidated are not two attributes one usually assigns to the police.”

Did she tell him? There was really no point in sharing. It wasn’t as if this was going to be a thing between them. This, what they were doing, was temporary. He was here for a limited amount of time, and the best idea was to keep things light and simple and fun.

Except she had run away from him, and she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to run to him instead.

Why not tell him? There was nothing to lose for the very reasons she’d just listed in her head.

“The truth? I thought you might walk me to my door, and I didn’t want to risk you meeting my dad.”

“Your dad who lives in San Francisco. Which you really meant lives with you in San Francisco.”

“Yes.”

“What’s the matter? Not a fan of the Brits? Calls us all pasty pansies, does he? I assume he’s Irish, because he spelled your name correctly. Maybe he’s Fenian?”

She chuckled. “No. Nothing like that. My dad was a cop for the SFPD. He was a good cop, well respected. Then my mom got sick and… well the money, it wasn’t enough. She was on all these experimental drugs. Anything to give her a chance. It started small. A little here or there, but he went from being a good cop to a cop on the take. My mom died. My dad lost his job. He was lucky IA didn’t go after him. They must have thought there were extenuating circumstances. Not to mention the other guys and women on the force… they were his extended family. They all came to the funeral, but that was the last he saw any of them.”

“That’s awful.”

It was awful. Sinead could still remember how defeated he’d looked when he’d come home without his badge. His gun. It had broken her heart all over again, even while it made her angry that he’d done it in the first place.

There was no experimental drug on the planet that was going to save her mother. Every doctor had told him the same thing. Only he wouldn’t listen. Couldn’t accept he was going to lose her. He lost everything else instead.

“He doesn’t tell me what he does now. I don’t ask. I think he’s collecting for the mob. Lots of cash around all the time for no good reason, and the place we live, well, let’s just say Shady Oaks is a pretty spot-on name.”

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

She took another sip of beer.

“Have you always lived with him?”

She nodded. “We lost the house where I grew up. Rent in San Fran is ridiculous, and then Dad found this place. Actually, I think it came with his new job. Decent two bedroom, I don’t care what neighborhood it is, we’re paying way less for it than we should. Besides, I have this idea that if he has to confront me in uniform almost every day…”

“You might shame him into giving up the life.”

Sinead wasn’t sure how she liked that word. Did she want to shame her father? No, she didn’t think that was what she was trying to do. Maybe showing him how it could be again?

Except it couldn’t. He’d been discharged from service. There was no going back to the SFPD. Just like there was no world in which Mom was coming back. The past was set, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t change his future to something more nine to five.

“He needs me,” Sinead told him. “To watch over him, to make sure he doesn’t get in too deep. To make sure he eats at least once a day.”