Wondering if they can take Rian if it comes to that.
They gladly accept the drink, at least.
“I wanted to ask you two about something from high school,” I say as the boys clink their glasses together and get settled around the table.
Sean and Quinn exchange a look. “That was a long time ago,” Sean says, shrugging. “Whatcha want to talk about?”
“Megan Byrne,” Rian says.
Quinn winces. It’s an unconscious, visceral reaction. He quickly covers it with a confused smile, but I know I saw it. For one moment, it was like hearing that name was a kick to the stomach.
“What do you want to talk about her for? I thought you killed her.” Quinn’s smile turns vicious and edged as he looks at Rian.
Rian leans toward him. “You were friends with her, weren’t you?”
“You don’t gotta answer that,” Sean says quickly.
“What, are you his fucking lawyer?” Rian looks between the pair. “You two were up to something with Megan, weren’t you?”
“Fuck off, Rian,” Quinn says, and Sean puts a hand on his brother’s arm. They exchange a look, and that tells me everything I need to know.
They’re hiding something.
“Why is it Megan was writing about you two clowns in her diary?” Rian presses. “She mentions Q and S at least one time. Did you fuckers buy her a new phone because you were so in love? Or did you have some scheme going together?”
“You’re a fucking asshole, Rian,” Quinn growls, leaning closer. “You killed her and now here you are asking questions when you don’t know shit about shit.”
“I know you’re a weak little bitch, Quinn, and your brother’s even more pathetic.” Rian grins at them and gets in Quinn’s face. “Come on, tell me the truth. What’d you do to her? We both know I wasn’t driving that fucking car. We both know someone else ran her off the road and murdered her.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Quinn sounds genuinely confused.
“You’ve lost your fucking mind, Rian,” Sean says, getting loud now. “You come in here talking shit, and now you’re accusing us of murder? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Hey, all you in there!” Uncle Michael shouts. “Shut the fuck up!”
“You’re a stupid cunt,” Quinn says and stands menacingly. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Rian stares at them, leaning back in his chair. “I think you’re lying. I think you’re both pathetic. You’re a couple of sniveling, weak little—”
Quinn lunges, and Sean grabs him, pulling him back. The bottle gets knocked over and it topples to the floor. Fortunately, it doesn’t shatter, but it makes one hell of a racket. Uncle Michael comes in, scowling, and snatches the fallen drink up off the floor.
“This is a two-hundred-dollar whisky, you brainless assholes,” Uncle Michael says, glaring at his sons. “What’s going on?”
“Rian was just leaving,” Sean says pointedly. “Right, Daley?” He looks at me and clenches his jaw.
I get to my feet. “Come on, Rian.”
Rian hesitates. He looks at Quinn and Sean, and I know he wants to stay and taunt them some more. He thinks if he pushes them hard enough, then one of them will break. But they’re not going to say a word about what happened, especially not with their father standing a few feet away.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Rian.”
He grunts and stands. “Lovely to see you two again,” he says, nodding to the brothers.
“Fuck you,” Quinn says.
Uncle Michael sighs. “Best to your dad from me,” he says as we walk to the door and step outside.
Rian walks fast to the truck. I follow slowly, hands behind my back, frowning at the ground. I’m trying to make sense of what happened in there when he turns around to face me, glaring death.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he asks.
I blink in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You sat there and did nothing. If you’d have played good cop to my asshole cop, then maybe they would’ve talked. Instead, you let that shit escalate.”
I stare at him, my mouth open. “I let it escalate? You were practically begging for them to flip out.”
“You’ve been spacy and weird ever since you left for work this morning. What the hell is with you, Daley? Do you still give a fuck about what we’re doing?”
That gets it. I lose it then and shove him in the chest, knocking him back into the truck. He stares at me in surprise, and it’s clear I haven’t hurt him, which is too bad. I push him again, clenching my jaw, and he catches my wrist before I can do it again.
“Fuck you, Rian. Fuck you, okay?”
“Daley—”
“My older brother gave me a list of men my father wants me to marry. You want to know why I’m being weird?” I reach into my back pocket and rip the paper out. I shove it at him until he takes it. “There you go. That’s why I’m being weird, you egotistical fucking asshole. Not everything is about you.” I storm off, heaving down the block, breathing hard.