Eileen crossed her arms. "Aye, and you're a bleedin' eejit."
Anger engulfed me. I had lived in utter misery for the past three months, limping through life as if every part of me was broken beyond repair. Worse, I felt sick and wrecked with grief over seeing Lydia tonight. Watching her walk out the door because I'd told her to . . . gutted me. And now I needed my arse beaten? By the people who were supposed to care for me? Suddenly a fight seemed like the best bloody idea I'd ever heard. "Fine," I growled, heading for the door, "let's do this."
Courtney was talking shrilly about something, but I didn't give a feck what it was. I ignored her, flinging the door open and stepping outside into a world of softly whirling white, fat snowflakes falling from the sky. More snow? I thought the few flakes from earlier would have stopped by now. It wouldn't stick I'd guess, but something about it felt magical for just a moment and gave me pause. But then I heard Fionn stomping behind me, and my anger bubbled up again.
I stopped in the open area in front of Eileen's house and turned. Fionn was already advancing on me and when he got within a few feet, he stopped. We stared each other down for a moment. "I gave ya a few months, but ya came to the wrong conclusions, ya stubborn gobshite. I didn't want to have to beat some sense into ya, but enough is a feckin' nough," he said. "I'm a bloody monkey's uncle if I'm gona watch ya self-destruct."
"This isn't your business, Fionn," I gritted, stepping closer.
"You're me business, Brogan Ramsay, whether ya wanna be or not. And I'm your business. I'm your family." He was my family. I loved him like a brother. His fist slammed into my stomach, and I doubled over. I grunted as I caught my breath, surprise and red rage spreading like wildfire through my veins. I was going to bloody kill my brother now. My fist connected to his jaw, and he stumbled backward.
"She forgives ya," he sputtered, spitting out a mouthful of blood, the red a bright splotch on the pristine white carpet of snow.
"I don't bloody want her forgiveness," I growled. Goddamn it! I'd suffered every day since she'd been gone, every hour an effort to get through. And I would be damned if I was going to go backward now. Not that I'd moved forward very far.
Seeing Lydia tonight had highlighted that fact and tormented me. I had already forgiven her. Her betrayal hurt, but I had put her in an impossible position. I could hardly blame her for trying to help her brother. But when she'd said those three words, I forgive you, I'd wanted to grab her and hold her so tightly we'd meld together and no one could ever separate us again. But I wouldn't. I wouldn't give in to my own selfish wants and take anything from her ever again. Even if she wanted to give me a second chance, I wouldn't let her. I didn't deserve any more chances, and she should have far better than me. Someday she'd fall in love with a man who deserved her, with a man who hadn't killed her brother, who hadn't set out to ruin her life and succeeded by every definition. I would do one thing right by Lydia-the only thing I'd ever done right by Lydia-I would let her go.
It doesn't matter if you allow it or not. I still forgive you all the same. I still . . . I still love you all the same.
Lydia. Mo Chroí.
Fionn came charging for me and I braced as his head connected to my shoulder and we went down hard, my back connecting to the ground in a jarring smack, the air releasing from my lungs in a loud whoosh.
I groaned as Fionn scrambled up until he was kneeling over me, his arm rising to hit me again. "She doesn't really forgive me, Fionn," I wheezed out. His arm halted in midair. I took a few deep breaths, my lungs expanding. "She thinks she does because she . . . she's generous and kind. But . . . she'll always remember what I did, who I am, and eventually . . . she'll leave me again, or betray me again," I gasped. "It'll just be a matter of time. I can't . . . I can't . . ." Fionn's fist slammed into my jaw.
"Feck!" I yelled. "What the feck?" My face felt like it was on fire.
"Jaysus. Still wrong, ya dopey dick," Fionn muttered, raising his arm again. I dodged his fist, rolling to the side.
We wrestled for a few minutes, a stick poking into my back so violently, I thought it might have broken through my skin. I yelled out and Fionn paused. I took the opportunity to nail him in the gut. He let out a loud whoosh of air, falling over. He groaned, clutching his stomach and I paused, which gave him just enough time to roll toward me again and attack. I went slamming to my back again and groaned.
"Okay, okay. Jaysus, what do ya want, Fionn?"
He fell to his back beside me with a small moan. For a few seconds, we lay looking up into the gently falling snow. The fat flakes melted as they hit my skin, feeling good against my hot, injured face.
"She forgives ya, mo chara. She loves ya. She's not gona withdraw it to hurt ya later. If ya want the games to be over, you're gona have to trust her. If ya want her love, you're gona have to give her your love in return and for the love of Jaysus, you're gona have to try to see the good in yourself. End your own torment, mo chara, forgive her and forgive yourself."
"I do forgive her," I muttered. And I really did. She hadn't meant any harm to me seven years ago, and in fact, had suffered painfully because of what happened that day. It was because of me she'd been put in a position to have to choose between her brother and me. It was because of me she'd taken my folder-the folder I'd ultimately burned. And for all of that, it was myself I couldn't figure out how to let off the hook. There was no question. I was the villain.
As if reading my thoughts, Fionn said, "If ya can't figure a way to forgive yourself, you're never gona trust her forgiveness." I sighed. I felt drained completely. "Ya made mistakes, Brogan, but you're a good man. Stop punishin' yourself and the rest of us along with ya. This is no atonement."
"I just need to think," I said. Fionn leaned up, his fist connecting to my face once again in a punch that made it feel like my eye had exploded.
I brought my hands to my face, rolling away and sitting up, facing him. "What the feck?" I yelled again for what felt like the tenth time.
"For the love of Jaysus, please stop your bloody thinkin'," he said, sounding as drained as I was.
I stared at him, his face as bruised and battered as mine felt, our shirts wet and ripped and bloody. And I started laughing. He stared at me for a heartbeat and then he started laughing, too, until we were both howling and clutching our bruised ribs in pain. I stood, groaning, my laughter fading as every muscle in my body screamed. I reached for his hand and he gripped mine, as I helped him to his feet. I pulled him into a hug, clapping him as gently as possible on the back.
"Ya got two women waitin' on ya, mo chara," he said when we'd pulled apart. "Make the right choice."
I exhaled, my breath coming out in a white puff. I looked toward the house where Courtney waited. She had shown up at my apartment tonight, crying in fear about her ex-husband, and so I'd brought her with me even though I'd known neither Eileen nor Fionn would be happy about it. Hell, I wasn't happy about it. So what the feck was I doing?
Fionn seemed to follow my thoughts. "Yeah, ya really are an eejit."
I let out a surprised burst of laughter. "I'm the eejit who employs you."
Fionn put his hand on my shoulder. "Listen, mo chara, next time ya get to thinkin' on some subject or another, a good rule of thumb is to ask yourself, what would Fionn do?" He attempted to smirk, or so I thought anyway, but it was all twisted and grotesque, his bottom lip swollen to twice its size, and the movement only made me laugh harder. What would Fionn do? Okay, then.
"Maybe I'll have a T-shirt made." I laughed, but it died quickly. I put my hand on Fionn's shoulder, filled with gratitude. Fionn would be the best damned friend a man ever had. I ever had. That's what Fionn would do. "Thank you, mo chara. Thank you," I rasped.
"You're feckin' welcome, ya wanker," Fionn said, smiling another hideous smile. I smiled back, only feeling a small measure of guilt for the state of him. I figured my face looked pretty bad too. I chuckled as we started for Eileen's door.
**********
"Oh for Christ's sake," Eileen said when she took in the sight of Fionn and me. I looked at Courtney who was sitting on the couch, still, her hands on her knees, looking straight ahead.