Michael

Leaving Eden’s that morning was one of the hardest things I had ever done, but it was much easier than the alternative.

Because the alternative would have been staying there telling her I didn’t want to go, and that was something I could not do.

Yesterday, Patrick had finally given me a chance, one that had put me on the road I wanted to be on.

Had I been happy about it?

No.

Instead of focusing on what that chance meant, I’d been intent on getting to her, desperate, needy to be close to her again.

And when she had opened the door, her face angry, her eyes sparking, I had felt a relief unlike any before.

When she’d held me in her arms with no question, no hesitation, I had once again realized this woman held my heart. I fucking hated it.

I had ignored the signs before, had pretended that it was all normal, that all this was just a fuck to blow off steam, a method of proving to Eden that she wasn’t as immune to me as she liked to pretend.

Last night had finally, irrevocably, proven that was a lie.

Because the sex was good, better than good. And Eden was funny, smart, admirable.

I loved her.

Acknowledging that, even only to myself was a punch in the gut. I almost couldn’t believe I’d admitted it. But I had, and it was true.

I just had no damn clue what to do with that emotion.

A good man, a decent one would have just cut her loose.

I wasn’t good, decent, and I certainly wouldn’t let her go.

I couldn’t.

But that left me in an awful bind.

Because as unacceptable as it was to think of someone else having her, I wasn’t sure that I could give Eden what she wanted, what she deserved. Maybe she could accept what I did, but even then, would that be enough? Or would she decide I was too difficult a person to be worth the hassle?

I didn’t know the answer to that question, and that uncertainty left me in a place that I swore I never would be again.

My stomach churned as I thought of that, yet another problem for me to untangle.

I wouldn’t be able to untangle it now, I realized as I turned down the long driveway to the house Patrick lived in permanently. It belonged to all of us, a gift from our mother, but Patrick and his wife, Nya, lived here, and though we were always welcome, we tried to give them space.

On this Sunday morning, I couldn’t wait. I parked, went into the house, and found Patrick in the study.

“Where’s Nya?” I asked without preamble as I settled in the chair across from Patrick’s desk.

“Good morning, Michael. Nya is with her friend Jade. Are you keeping track of my wife’s whereabouts?” he asked.

“We need to talk,” I said.

Instantly he turned serious, nodded toward the door. I closed it, then returned to sit across from him.

“Have you talked to Declan?” I asked.

“He told me he gave you a job last night,” Patrick said.

“Is that all he said?”

“Yes. Was there something else?” Patrick asked.

That was like Declan. He knew I would tell Patrick what happened, and so I did.

“I got into a little scuffle at the hotel,” I said.

“A scuffle?” Patrick said. His expression was inscrutable as usual, but I thought I saw some amusement.

“Someone Eden used to know. He got familiar,” I said.

“Did he touch her?” Patrick asked.

He was mirroring Declan’s question, and as I had last night, I gave the same answer.

“It wasn’t that. It was just a…misunderstanding,” I said.

“Misunderstanding, meaning you went off half-cocked and tried to beat some asshole half to death because he touched what you think is yours?” Patrick said.

Having him lay it out in such dry terms put my actions in a different light. Maybe I had overreacted, but I couldn’t change that now. Honestly, as long as it hadn’t ruined things with Eden, I didn’t care.

“I didn’t come here to talk about that, Patrick,” I said, my usual impatience at bay with the other things on my mind.

“So I’m right. What did you come here to talk about?” he said, going from joking to business in the blink of an eye.

“That task you gave me last night. Was it a test?”

“What makes you think it was a test?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Pat. I know it was a test,” I said.

“I’m not bullshitting you, Michael, I’m asking you a question. Why do you think it’s a test?”

“What else would it be!” I said.

I lowered my voice when I saw the surprise on Patrick’s face, but that didn’t do anything to temper my anger. It didn’t touch me, didn’t do anything to stem the tide of my emotions.

“Is that something Aengus taught you?” I spat.

“Michael, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to calm down and explain,” he said.

“It’s fucking bullshit that you did that, Patrick,” I said, not really hearing anything he said.

“Michael,” Patrick whispered, standing, his voice firm, “what is it?”

He circled the desk and walked toward me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I looked at him, saw the pure confusion in his face.

“Arnold’s dead,” I said flatly. I’d practiced my explanation in my head, intended to explain to Patrick that I had no choice. Arnold had stolen from us to cover his lies. A man who would cheat on his wife and both of his mistresses couldn’t be trusted.

But I didn’t have the chance.

“Okay,” Patrick responded.

“Okay?” I asked, wondering what else he would say.

“Yeah. Okay,” he replied.

I looked at him, confused. “So did I fail?”

“Michael,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did you put me in that situation to see what I would do?”

Patrick frowned deeper, his brows drooping.

“Of course not. I said the choice was yours and I meant it.”

He sounded so sincere, and I had never known Patrick to lie, but this was hard to believe. Could I hope that Patrick trusted me so much, so unconditionally? “You mean it?” I asked, hating how hopeful I sounded, but feeling it nonetheless.

“I don’t know what this is about, Michael,” he said.

“It’s nothing. Just some shit with Aengus,” I said, sinking back down into my chair, feeling weak.

“You have to be more specific,” Patrick said, sitting beside me.

I looked at him, debating what to say, whether to say anything at all. Then, finally, I decided to. “So he didn’t test you?” I finally said.

“Undoubtedly, but you really need to be more specific,” he said.

I went quiet for a moment, looked out of the window at the peaceful yard, thinking back all those years. I’d never shared this with anyone, not even Sean, but even after all this time, the shame that filled me made me weak.

When I looked at Patrick, I saw his steadiness, was again reminded that he was the leader of this family in a way Aengus could never dream of.

“You were out of the house by then,” I started, then paused when Patrick narrowed his eyes, already angry.

That had been a tough time, one when Patrick and Declan had been gone, leaving only me and Sean. It hadn’t been long. Patrick had gotten us soon after, but that year with Aengus had been the worst of my life.

“It was my birthday, my twelfth. Aengus left Sean at home and told me to come with him,” I said.

“What the fuck did he do?” Patrick asked through clenched teeth.

“He said it was time to prove that I was a man,” I said, thinking back on that day.

“I don’t exactly remember where we went, but there was a man there, a kid really. Aengus said he had been stealing, said that as a Murphy I could never let something like that stand.”

“He made you kill the guy,” Patrick said, his voice grim.

“He wanted me to. He even handed me the gun, but I couldn’t pull the trigger.”

I remembered that day so vividly, the weight of the gun in my hand, the way I had wanted to throw up, the sound of Aengus’s laughter after the first tear had slipped from my eye.

“We were there for over an hour I think. Every second was awful. He was taunting me. Telling me I would never be a real man, said I was a pussy. Soft.”

“That piece of shit,” Patrick muttered, his expression angry, but at least he didn’t look sympathetic.

“He got impatient, took the gun and shot the kid. I can still hear that sound, feel the droplets of blood as they splashed against my face,” I said.

I’d been terrified then, felt sorry for that kid, afraid of Aengus. But now, for the first time, I felt sorry for the boy I had been, the one who had been desperate for his father’s approval. Hated that I had wasted even a moment seeking it.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” Patrick said.

“It was a long time ago,” I said, shrugging it off. “But last night…”

“You know better. I wouldn’t do any shit like that to you. I asked you to make the decision to show you I trust you,” he said.

I instantly believed him, was ashamed I had ever doubted him.

“Then why?” I asked.

“Why what?” he said.

“Why do you insist that I stay at the hotel?” I said.

“I want to give you options, Michael. And you are too damn hotheaded. But less than you used to be. I’ve noticed a lot of changes about you, good ones. Despite what Aengus might’ve told you, a good leader, a strong one, doesn’t always have to kill. They use strength and reason. Know when to kill, when to forgive,” he said.

“And you think I can do that, even though I killed Arnold?” I said. I’d done what I thought best, but I still wasn’t sure Patrick would agree.

“I trust you. You did what you needed to,” he said.

“So that’s it? You’re not going to give me some sappy speech or lecture?”

“I’m your eldest brother. I reserve the right to give you sappy speeches whenever I want. I’ll hold it for now, but listen to me and believe me when I tell you Aengus is an asshole. One of the great shames of my life is that I left you and Sean with him, and I only allow him to continue breathing because of that promise we made,” he said.

His face had twisted with the rage that Aengus could effortlessly inspire, but Patrick breathed out hard, then looked at me again. He was completely calm and again reminded me why he was the head of our family.

“You’re a good person, Michael. An asshole but a good person. I trust you. Now I need you to trust yourself,” he said.

* * *

Michael

Trust myself.

I realized that as simple as that concept seemed, I had so little practice at it. Had none, really.

I’d spent so many years trying to prove that I was worthy of the Murphy name, that I wasn’t weak like Aengus had said I was, that I’d lost myself in the process.

No more.

I would prove it, starting now.

I accessed the hotel’s personnel records and found Kevin’s address. That cheap shot had been a bitch move, and I was brave enough to acknowledge it.

I was also brave enough to not hide. If Eden wanted him, I wouldn’t stand in her way. I planned to win her, and I wouldn’t make it easy on him, but I also wouldn’t use my name and influence to tilt the field.

It was dark out, but not so late a guest would be completely out of line, so I walked to his door, went to knock. Before I could, I noticed that it was partially open.

My instincts were instantly on alert, and I looked around, saw nothing out of place or out of the ordinary.

At least I didn’t until I pushed open the door, my gaze landing on the bloody arm that I could see through the crack.

My phone vibrated, and I looked down at it, my mind racing.

4

A single number. A sign from my brothers that something was wrong.

The last shred of evidence that I was totally fucked.