When we walk into Gilroy’s, Tess takes one look at my face and loses her mind.

“Tell me you killed him,” she seethes at Patrick. “Tell me that dirty motherfucker died a horrible, bloody death and that he shit his pants when you—”

“Simmer down, Half-pint, we have an audience,” Conner says quietly, jerking his head toward the bar. Declan is behind it, tending to the dozen or so day-drinkers sitting around it.

They’re all staring at us.

“Give them a round on the house and then shut it down,” Patrick says over my head. “We’ll be back down to sort through the rest later.” Declan nods before shooting a withering glare at the groaning patrons in front of him. As soon as he looks at them, they shut up. I want to ask what we have to sort through but I’m herded upstairs before I get the chance.

Patrick leads me to the couch and tells me to sit before heading to the kitchen where he starts rifling through the freezer while Tess heads to the bathroom. I hear her rooting around in the cabinets under the sink. They both come back at the same time—Patrick with an ice pack and Tess with the first-aid kit. Before either of them can make a move, Conner stops them.

“First things first,” he says, looking at me. “Give me a dollar.”

“A dollar?” I look at Patrick. It’s a reflex that I instantly hate myself for. I refocus on Conner. “I—what—”

“Get your wallet out and give me whatever folding money you have,” Conner says, jerking his chin at my bag. “Chop, chop, Legs—we’re wasting time.”

Because I don’t know what’s going on and I’m too tired to figure it out, I do what he says. “All I have is a ten,” I say, handing him the bill.

He takes it and puts it in his pocket. “That’ll do,” he says, talking past me. “Okay, we need to document the assault,” he says, not sounding at all like the Conner I know. Before I can open my mouth, he looks at me, studying my face for a second. “Is that something we can do here or do we need to go the hospital for a more extensive exam?”

When I don’t answer right away, Tess hunkers down in front of me, tipping her face so she can look into mine. “He’s asking you if James raped—”

“I know what he’s asking me,” I say, cutting Tess off before she can finish. “And no, he didn’t get the chance.”

Conner nods before looking at Patrick. “How about you?” he says, dropping his gaze to the bat in his cousin’s hand. “We need to destroy evidence?”

“No,” Patrick shakes his head, looking at me. “She fucked him up before I got there,” he says, tossing the bat onto the dining room table. His voice sounds strange. Thick, like it’s strangling him.

Conner looks at me again, his mouth curved into a lop-sided grin. “Way to go, Legs,” he says, sounding more like himself, but it didn’t last. “Okay, I figure we’ve got a few hours, at best, before we get a visit from Boston’s finest, so we need to get in gear. Tess and Patrick are going to take you into the bathroom and take some pictures.”

“What?” I shoot a look at Patrick. He doesn’t look any happier about it than I am. “No. I just want to—”

“We need a paper grocery bag, a pair of tongs, magic marker and a stapler,” he says to Patrick, ignoring me completely.

“Got it,” Patrick says, moving into the kitchen to fill Conner’s wish list, collecting all four items in short order.

“Great, Tess will collect your clothes. Patrick will document.” He gives me a look like he doesn’t understand why I’m not moving already. “You can get cleaned up afterward,” he says, motioning for me to get up. Because I don’t know what else to do and because I’m still too tired to argue, I stand up and follow Tess and Patrick into the bathroom.

“Stand on the towel,” Tess says, shutting the door behind us, before pulling out her phone. I do what she says and pose as directed while she takes pictures of my face, shirt, and hair. I shoot a look at Patrick who’s standing behind me. He’s leaning against the bathroom sink, phone out, aimed in our direction.

He’s filming us.

“Is it me or has Conner seen one too many episodes of Law & Order?” I say, and Tess cracks a smile. Behind me, Patrick makes a sound that might be a laugh. “What am I missing?” I say because I seem to be missing a lot lately when it comes to the Gilroys.

“Con went to law school,” Patrick says. “And he hates that show.”

“He went to law school?” I look down at Tess who’s still taking pictures.

“Harvard Law, actually,” Tess says, an unmistakable prideful tone in her voice. “It was a while ago—before MIT. Take off your clothes.”

Harvard law? MIT? I start stripping, making sure my clothes land on the towel. “He’s twenty-five,” I say, feeling like the dumbest person on earth.

“Tell that to his law degree and two doctorates,” Tess smirks at me. “Our loveable man-whore is chock-full of surprises.” She keeps taking pictures while I try to process what I can only describe as a massive information overload.

Conner went to Harvard and MIT. Patrick is some sort of secret millionaire. “What about Declan?” I say, dividing a look between the two of them. “Does he perform brain surgery on the weekends or maybe rule a small country in his spare time?”

Tess straightens herself and drops her phone. “Rule a small country?” she laughs. “He would love that, but no—Declan is just Declan. A total dickface.” She looks at Patrick over my shoulder before guiding me to the toilet. “Sit,” she says, lowering the lid before nudging me onto it. Patrick hands her the tongs, and she uses them to fold the towel I was standing on around my clothes.

“Is this really necessary?” I say because it all feels so ridiculous, like a bad episode of even worse television.

“If Con says it’s necessary, it’s necessary,” Patrick says while Tess scoops the bundle of clothes and towels into the paper bag before folding the top down and stapling it closed. Still being filmed, Tess writes my name and today’s date on the face of the bag. As soon as the bag is secured, Patrick stops filming and hands Tess his phone.

“I’m going to get these uploaded to the cloud,” she says, shooting me a quick look before bolting out the door.

Leaving me to deal with Patrick on my own.