This is not that. Not by a long shot.
“I… I failed her,” Padraig says again. “And I will never forgive myself for that.”
I take a deep breath and lean back in my seat.
And, God help me, I take a small bit of mercy on the poor bastard.
“You can make amends,” I tell him. “You can be there for her now.”
“Perhaps. Doesn’t erase the past though.”
“No,” I admit. “No, it doesn’t.” Then I lean forward again, elbows propped on my knees. “What forced you to face the truth?”
“What truth?”
“The truth about Tristan.”
Padraig swallows. “Three days ago, Saoirse was supposed to show up for her shift at the home. She’s never missed a day. When she didn’t show up, I called him. He didn’t say much but I could tell something had happened. That night he showed up and told me I was being discharged from the nursing home I was living in. He was taking me back home. The house where he and Saoirse lived.”
“And did he take you there?”
“Yes. But… he wasn’t moving me back in like I’d wanted,” Padraig says, his words stalling slightly under the weight of the memory. “He said… He was going to punish me, he said.”
“For?”
“For raising an ungrateful daughter,” Padraig explains with difficulty. “He told me that I’d be useful to him when the time came. And I’d be a punching bag to him in the meantime.”
He stops talking for a moment and reaches for a tissue.
“I… I can’t remember too much,” he admits. “I was unconscious for a lot of the time when Tristan was around. He’d ask me questions, and if I didn’t give him the answers he wanted, he’d beat me.”
The bruises on his face prove that much.
“What questions did he ask you?”
Padraig concentrates inwardly, trying to dredge out specific memories. “He asked me… if Saoirse talks about you.”
“Me?” I repeat, frowning.
“Yes,” Padraig confirms with a nod. “He seemed to think that she still had feelings for you.”
That’s news to me. Since we’d reconnected, Saoirse has made it abundantly clear that her feelings for me are in the past.
But apparently, Tristan feels differently. Which begs the question…
What’s causing him to feel that way?
I’d love to dig a little deeper here, but I’ve allowed myself to get sidetracked by Saoirse again. I need to get back on track.
“Did Tristan ask you anything else about me? Did he mention my parents?”
Padraig’s eyebrows knot together for a moment. “No, he didn’t.”
“You’re aware he has ties to the Kinahans?”
“Yes.”
“And the Murtaghs?”