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Saoirse
The week went by and I didn’t hear from Diarmuid.
I distracted myself by focusing on the new installations and preparations at my father’s lab. The voice inside me that sounded like Diarmuid’s and told me don’t do this grew quieter and quieter.
Until Friday morning.
Diarmuid: Are you coming to the gym today?
My guts twisted as a jumble of emotions tangled around inside me.
Me: Are we still pretending that we don’t want each other?
Diarmuid: Saoirse…
Me: Diarmuid…
Diarmuid: You know how I feel.
Saoirse: And you know how I feel. Yet again we are at an impasse.
Diarmuid: I hate this.
My heart squeezed. I hated it too. But I was not backing down. I would not let him do this push-pull with me anymore. It hurt too much.
Me: I don’t want to talk about this anymore.
Diarmuid: Then tell me something.
Me: Like what?
Diarmuid: Anything. How’s work at the café going?
Guilt stabbed at my gut.
Me: Fine. Boring.
I hated lying to him. But telling him that I’d been fired from the café would just lead to too many questions.
Diarmuid: Wow. What a detailed answer.
Me: Don’t be sarcastic. You don’t wear it well.
Diarmuid: Well then tell me something else.
Me: It’s my 18th birthday in a few months.
Diarmuid: Don’t get arrested before then. You’ll spoil my reoffender record.
Me: Diarmuid!
Diarmuid: Joking ;)
Me: I’ll be 18…
Diarmuid: I’ll make sure to wish you happy birthday.
Me: …
Diarmuid: Maybe your bracelet will get another charm.
Me: Better but not quite what I was thinking…
There was a long pause before his reply came back in.
Diarmuid: We should not be talking about this.
I rolled my eyes at my screen.
Me: Fine. We can wait until I turn eighteen to “talk” about it.
Diarmuid: Saoirse…
“Saoirse.” My name barked out snapped my attention away from my phone.
I flinched, almost dropping my phone. I hurried to turn the screen off so Diarmuid’s last message wouldn’t give me away.
I was sitting in the corner of the lab, waiting on my da to finish up for the day. I’d come here with him to oversee the installation of the exhausts. So far so good. My da had spared no expense.
My father stormed towards me, murder in his eyes.
Guilt and panic flooded my body. Did he know who I was texting? I slid my phone down into the bottom of my bag.
“Da, what’s wrong?”
He stopped before me. “I just spoke to Malachi. What the fock happened on fight night?”
I cursed internally. Malachi had finally told on me. Or perhaps my da had weaseled the truth out of him.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to play innocent.
“Malachi said you left with your JLO instead of him.”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Diarmuid saw me there. After a brawl broke out, he came and pulled me out of the crowd because Malachi was too chicken-shit to do anything.”
The frown on my da’s face deepened.
I continued, feeling like I was rambling. “He just took me home because he doesn’t trust motorcycles. He was there with another woman, Da. A date. It’s not like we were alone or anything.” Liar.
My da’s eyes narrowed at me. “You and this Garda seem friendly.”
I swallowed down a knot in my throat. “That’s ridiculous. I just tolerate him when I have to see him. I don’t tell him anything, Da, you taught me better than that.”
Guilt threaded through me.
I was lying to my father. My own flesh and blood. The man who was taking care of me.
If he knew I was disrespecting him by falling for an officer, his heart would break.
“He seems interested in you. A little too interested.” My da’s jaw tightened. “I might have to pay him a little visit. Have a little talk with him…”
The violence in his tone was clear.
“No!” I cried just a little too quickly, then forced myself to stay casual. “It’s honestly nothing, Da. He’s just overeager, overprotective of all his assignments. If you threaten him, you’ll make it worse.”
My da studied me, mistrust seeping into the creases around his eyes. “I don’t like you spending time with him.”
I swallowed. “I don’t spend time with him. It’s just the bare minimum JLO stuff.”
Liar. Liar. Liar.
“Yeah, well, you tell me when you have to go see the prick. I’ll send someone with you.”
My guts swilled as if poison had been injected into them. The attraction between Diarmuid and me was too potent, too fiery, too obvious. I couldn’t let anyone see us together.
If my da ever found out about Diarmuid and me, he’d kill him.