It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s trying to say. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Saoirse,” he says. “I try to stop, but I can’t. It’s like I’m in a dream I can’t wake up from.”
“It’s called an addiction for a reason, Da,” I say, trying desperately to curb my anger with patience and understanding. “We can get you treatment. There are rehab facilities—”
“Those places are expensive,” he dismisses. “We don’t have the money to pay off our debt, much less for one of those fancy clinics.”
I take a breath and try to ignore the growing feeling of claustrophobia in my chest. “I’ll find a way to pay off your debt,” I tell him. “Without Tristan.”
“Saoirse, you need him.”
I can feel the walls closing in.
But I have to ask.
“You owe more than just the Kinahan and the O’Sullivans, don’t you?”
He hesitates for only a moment. Maybe the painkillers are making him honest. “Yes.”
“How much more?”
“I keep a ledger in the desk drawer of my bedroom,” he tells me.
Well, at least he’s an organized gambler.
“But, Saoirse,” he says, “you can’t tell anyone that. Not even Tristan.”
“You really think Tristan can help get all your debt forgiven?” I ask incredulously.
“I know he can help,” Pa says helplessly. “Somehow.”
“Pa, he’s not the kind of man who’s going to do something just to be kind. What does he get out of helping you?”
“He’s not as bad as you think, Saoirse,” he tells me. “He cares for me. And he cares for you.”
Why do those words feel like a death sentence?
I shake my head, my eyes going wide with sudden understanding. “Pa—”
“Excuse me?”
I blink back my tears and turn to the door towards the interruption.
The portly blond nurse who’s been taking care of my father for the past three days walks in. She’s carrying a tray with a variety of different painkillers.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says with a cheerful smile that I can’t for the life of me bring myself to return. “But it’s time for medicine.”
“I don’t want that shit,” Pa barks gruffly. “It makes me feel all confused.”
Her smile falters slightly. “I’m sorry, sir. You don’t have the option of turning them down.”
“I’m not taking the fucking pills,” he growls.
I grab his arm. “Pa,” I say firmly,, “she’s just doing her job. You need to take those pills.”
“No.”
I turn to the nurse helplessly. She gives me a reassuring smile. She sets the tray down and leaves the room.