CHAPTER 23

Renner

I'm exhausted as I knock on Cillian's door. I haven't slept a wink all night, sick with worry over what happened and over what may happen.

Last night was a train wreck, the beginning only being Maeve's meltdown. I still can't believe Cillian left me stranded with a total stranger, one that turned out to be weirder by the moment.

I was stunned when Cillian left me with him, alone and stranded miles from Dublin. I know, deep down, he wasn't thinking rationally. But something happened, just before he left, that gave me no doubt that Maeve was the only one thinking rationally. Just as he spoke his last words, she turned to look at me and I returned it. And I wasn't seeing a woman on the edge of a breakdown. No... the look she gave me was one of triumph. She actually smiled at me and her look said, "I won. You lost."

I knew, in that moment, that Maeve was full of shit. Oh, I still understand that she has a problem... maybe one fueled by alcohol dependency and mental instability, made all the worse by the abuse she suffered. But last night, she was lucid and her eyes told me everything... it was a well-orchestrated plan on her part.

The ride back to Dublin with Brady was wretched, but I also learned some important stuff. Stuff that has me full of rage at Maeve right now. I had to put up with his wandering hands and filthy suggestions to me, but at least I got what I think to be truthful information about her.

First, I had to make him give me the keys to his car, because I suspected he had shown up at the restaurant a little sauced. I wasn't about to get in the car with him. He easily relented, which I came to learn on the ride back was so that he could try to put his hands in places they didn't belong.

It started out first with him resting his arm across the back of my seat. Then his fingers slid into my hair and tried to rub my head. I wrenched it away and told him to back off. One other time, he tried to lay it on my leg and I told him I'd rip his nuts off if he tried to touch me again.

He finally relented for the rest of the trip, and became bored with me. But I was having none of that. I started pumping him for information, because I'd reached the end of my straw with Maeve.

The thing I realize about Brady is he doesn't know how to shut up once you get him going, so it was easy to learn about my nemesis.

After I heard about the slimy details of their dating and sexual relationship, I asked about her family. It was eye-opening indeed.

"So, I heard her parents were real jerks to her growing up." I had no plan to share the real details of what Cillian had told me, because despite how much I despised Maeve right now, I wasn't going to give away that confidence.

"Nah. Her aunt was an old sweetie."

"But what about her mom and dad?" I pressed.

"Mom and dad?" I glanced over at him and he was looking at me with curiosity.

"Yeah. Mom. Dad. You know—the people that raised her."

"I don't know who you're talking about but Maeve was raised her Aunt in Galway."

"What happened to her parents?"

"Maeve never knew her dad. Her mom was always single as far as I know, but she died when Maeve was only eight and her aunt raised her."

Son of a bitch. Her story about her parents being alcoholics and abusing her was a fucking lie?

"You're sure?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "Of course I'm sure. We dated for just over a year. I spent a lot of time at her aunt's house."

My mind was still buzzing when we pulled in front of my apartment building. I tried to make haste to get out of the car but Brady put a restraining hand on my knee. I looked down at it and then back up to his face, giving him an icy glare.

"Want to do a little blow with me? We can go up to your place and party."

For a split second, I had no clue what he was talking about and then it dawned on me. Reaching down, I pulled his hand off my knee.

"No, thanks," I gritted out and opened the car door.

Before I could slide out, he locked his hand around my upper arm, with a hard enough grip I winced. "Don't be like that. Our dates ditched us. No reason we can't have some fun."

Thankfully, the sidewalk was filled with people and the door was open. "If you don't let me go, asshole, I'm going to scream this neighborhood down." My words poured out in a fury that actually had me flinching at myself. But I know only a small portion of that fury was aimed at Brady. Most of it was for Maeve and the realization of her duplicity.

"Fucking bitch," was all he said as I pushed the door all the way open and climbed out. I didn't even look behind me as I ran up to my apartment.

I knock again on Cillian's door and glance at my watch. It's 10:00AM and I have no clue if he's home.

I have no clue because he hasn't returned my calls. I started immediately trying to reach him after I turned the lock on my flat door last night. I had no intention of telling him what I had found out over the phone. I just wanted an update as to what was going on. I can only hope he's not been answering because he took Maeve back to Dublin Mind Wellness or some other insane asylum where they would hopefully lock her up and throw away the key.

I'm sort of surprised over the viciousness of my anger against her. Most of the sympathy I've had for her has been eroded away and I know it's time to put my foot down where she's concerned.

When I got up this morning, I tried to reach him again, but no answer. I didn't hesitate before I got showered and made my way to his flat.

Just as I'm starting to turn away from his door, convinced he's not home, it opens and Cillian is standing there. He looks like shit. His eyes are red and he's wearing last night's wrinkled clothes.

"Hey," he says wearily and steps aside so I can come in.

"Why haven't you answered your phone?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

He looks at me in surprise and reaches into his pocket. He pushes the button and nothing happens. "Battery's dead, I guess."

For some reason, that just pisses me off. It certainly explains why he didn't answer the phone, but it doesn't explain why he didn't once think of calling to check on me. He had no clue if I even made it home safe last night, and that just causes my blood to boil.

"Well, as you can see, I made it home in one piece last night." My voice is sarcastic as I hold my arms out.

He blinks in surprise but doesn't say anything. Now lava is flowing through my veins.

"Yeah... I'm in one piece. A little bruised," I say as I pull my shirtsleeve up so he can see the bruises Brady left on my arm last night when he grabbed me, "but still in one piece."

I get a small measure of satisfaction when his face goes green. "What the fuck did he do to you?" His voice is low and aggressive, and despite how mad I am at him, I don't want to get derailed from the more important conversation we need to have.

"Nothing. He just got a little grabby with me. I'm fine."

"I'm going to kill that mother-fucker," he says, looking around wildly. "Where are my fucking car keys?"

I reach out and lay my hand on his arm. "Stop, Cillian. I'm fine, and besides, you don't even know where to find him. Plus... we need to talk."

He looks down at my hand on his arm and then back up at me. His eyes are hard for just a second, and then he starts to reach a hand toward my face. I anticipate the warmth of his fingertips, wait for what seems like forever for him to touch me. I need it... crave it. It is reassurance to me. But just before he touches my cheek, I hear, "What's she doing here, Cillian?"

I spin around and Maeve is standing ten feet away. She's wearing one of his t-shirts, which hits the top of her thigh. I'm stunned speechless as I look at her in a near-naked state, in my boyfriend's apartment. After she had a supposed mental meltdown last night, causing him to ditch me and leave with her.

I glance at Cillian and he has his fingers on the bridge of his nose, apparently trying to rub away a tension headache. I look back to Maeve and she shoots me a sweet smile.

Turning my back on her, I take a step closer to Cillian and I say quietly, "You're an asshole."

That seems to break him out of his stupor and he says, "Wait? What?" He looks bewildered as to why I would call him that.

"Figure it out. You're a smart guy."

I spin toward the door and haul it open, trying to slam it behind me on the way out. But his hand shoots out and he grabs it, throwing it open. He stalks out after me and catches up to me just before I reach the lift. He grabs my hand as I reach out to jab the button.

"What are you doing, Renner? Why am I an asshole?"

"You have a half-naked, certifiably psychotic woman in your apartment... one that I thought you might be taking to a hospital last night. You don't call me, you don't even give a shit what happened to me, and you wonder why I call you an asshole? Hmmm... let's see. I amend my former statement. You're a stupid asshole."

I make another jab at the button but he grabs my shoulders and turns me to him. "Renner... I'm so sorry about last night. I wasn't thinking straight and I’m an idiot for leaving you with that gobshite. I could kick myself for that. But nothing happened between Maeve and I. She slept in my bed and I slept on the couch."

I grit my teeth tight, probably in an effort not to let loose a scream of frustration. "Why? Why did she stay here? Why didn't you take her somewhere for help...Dublin Mind Wellness, a hospital... fuck, I don't care... why didn't you dump her back at her flat?"

"Renner," he chides. "She needs help. I couldn't just dump her at her apartment. And... she refused to go to Dublin Mind Wellness. She tried to jump out of the car when I suggested it. So I brought her back here, hoping to talk some sense into her. I think I can get through, but I just need some time."

I give him a huge eye roll, and then level my eyes on his.

It's do or die now. "She's using you, Cillian. She's playing you, and using you. It's a game to her."

His hands fall from my shoulders and he takes a step back. "That's not fair, Renner. How could you be so cold about all of this."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Should I tell him all of the dirty details of Maeve's little game? Should I let him know exactly how rotten his so-called friend is?

But then it hits me.

None of that should matter. When it boils right down to it, no matter what Maeve's problems, no matter what tragedy has befallen her to make her the way she is, it's not Cillian's place to correct it. Sometime in the last few weeks, he's been sucked into a different role. He's gone from being the supportive friend, to being her crutch, to now being her savior. It's a role he shouldn't have to fill, and in my heart of hearts, I know it will only lead to failure.

No... I need to set a boundary in our relationship and he has to make the choice between Maeve and me. But he needs to do it without my dirty secrets about Maeve influencing his decision. He needs to make it clear to me what is really important.

"I can't do this anymore, Cillian."

"What do you mean?" he asks carefully.

"I can't continue to have a relationship with someone that isn't fully invested in it. Maeve has issues, but it is not your place to fix them."

"I'm not trying to fix them," he says angrily. "I'm just trying to help."

"No, you are being a slave to her whims."

"So you just want me to turn my back on her? Is that it? You want me to ignore the problem, just like I did with my da? Would that make you feel better? Well, how do you think it would make me feel if I did that and she offed herself? Would you feel all warm and fuzzy in our relationship then?" His words are harsh and filled with frustration and fury. This is devolving fast and suddenly, I'm just very tired of the situation.

"No," I say quietly. "Of course, I don't want that. You have to know that. But I can't keep being pushed to the side every time she crooks her finger at you. It's not fair to me."

"So you want me to choose? You want me to cater to your needs and forget about hers? Is that what you're saying?"

I hate to do this to him, I hate to give him this ultimatum, but I know I'm right about this. "Yes. I'm asking you to choose."

Cillian brings his hands to his face and covers it for a brief moment, then rubs at his eyes with his fingertips. When he pulls them away, he looks at me sadly. "I'm sorry then. I don't like ultimatums but if you're sure you want to give it, I choose Maeve. Her needs are just a bit more important than yours right now."

My heart cracks at those words...splits right down the middle with a pain so intense, I bring my knuckles up to rub against the center of my chest. I just stare at him, disbelieving that he would say that. Part of me is on the verge of panic and I almost blurt out all of Maeve's lies and manipulations, just so he'll know how very wrong he is.

But then understanding washes over me, and I realize that Cillian was never really mine to lose. If he was...the choice would have been a no brainer in the other direction. If he loved me, the way I love him, he would have taken me in his arms and said, "Of course, I choose you, Renner. There is no other choice."

I wait just a moment more, my eyes beseeching his...silently begging him to change his mind. He just returns a level stare at me and his message is clear.

Ball is in my court.

Turning to my left, I walk to the stairwell door and open it. His voice halts me though. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Tears spring to my eyes but I keep my back to him. "No, Cillian... this is what you want."

I walk through the door and let it close softly behind me.