Sure enough, it’s him.
He stares at me with harsh eyes. He might actually be considered good-looking if it weren’t for the ruthlessness that clings to his features.
“Saoirse,” he says, turning towards me. “Where have you been?”
“I… At home,” I reply, trying to get ahold of myself before he can see through the lie.
He looks like he’s about to poke holes in that, but I deflect by walking towards Pa. Lying in bed, he looks like he’s in pain.
“Pa,” I say gently. “Are you okay? How are you feeling today?”
He looks at me with an odd expression. Like he can’t choose between being angry or disappointed in me.
“What have you done, Saoirse?” he demands in a hoarse rasp.
His breath catches and he starts coughing a little. He struggles to sit up, so I move in to try and help him, only for him to shake me off callously.
“Pa, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he bites back at me. “What’s wrong is I thought my girl was smarter.”
I can feel Tristan standing just behind me.
I don’t even want to glance in his direction, but I know I won’t be able to avoid him for long.
“I’ll ask you again, Saoirse,” Tristan says. “Where were you last night?”
I turn to him slowly. “What does it matter?”
He raises his eyebrows. “You’re in a lot of trouble right now,” he says. “You might want to watch your tone. Especially with the people who are trying to help you.”
My throat constricts.
How is it possible that he knows about what happened with Murtagh?
Then I remember Murtagh’s brag earlier this morning.
My father has the Kinahans at his disposal, not to mention half the cops in the city.
Of course Tristan knows. Of course he does.
“It was an accident,” I stammer. “Murtagh attacked us on the rooftop of the pub. Cillian was just trying to—”
“Are you fucking daft, girl?!” Pa roars at me with more strength than I thought he possessed.
Clearly, it takes a lot out of him because his face goes red and he winces with pain. But he doesn’t stop, either.
I don’t know if it’s because he’s actually that mad or if he’s just pandering to Tristan.
“Cillian fucking O’Sullivan!” Pa continues. “What are you thinking getting involved with the likes of him? How long has it been going on?”
I back away from his bed.
“He’s not like the rest of them, the thugs you deal with,” I say defensively. “And I have the right to spend time with anyone I want.”
“The hell you do.”
This time, it’s Tristan who speaks.