She bites her lip. “No. It’s probably fucked up, but I rather enjoyed my deployments. It was my childhood that was shitty.”
“Why is that?”
She pushes off the counter and presses her fingers to my lips. “You ask too many questions.”
“You intrigue me,” I say.
Huffing, she brings her hazel eyes to mine. “Tonight, it’s my sister.” The words are spoken so softly, I barely hear them. Scotty mentioned a brother, a stepsister and a half-sister. I don’t have to pry, because she continues without a push. “We didn’t look alike. I don’t know why Dad couldn’t look at me after. Maybe because he wished she had been the one to survive instead.”
Well, Scotty didn’t mention a dead sibling, that’s for sure. I’d have to get on him for his shitty vetting process and have Sean go digging for more. I’ve seen him break the Pentagon’s firewall for shits and giggles with a hundred grand on the table.
“She died?” I ask.
“When we were eleven. She had blonde hair and blue eyes. Looked just like my mom. Dad? I think he wished Sarah survived the crash. I don’t. As much as I wish it was me who died, I wouldn’t wish any of this for her. She was the lucky one.”
“Any of what, love? You’re a successful doctor. Seems you turned out just fine.”
She snorts, taking the mug from me. “I am successful. No thanks to my family. To them, I’m the fuck up. The liar.” She downs the rest of the alcohol, going for more, but I stop her, taking the bottle from her grip. Her hand jerks, taking the bottle back. “If I died and Sarah lived, she wouldn’t have survived this anyway. She was too kind and soft. The second he—” A choked sob escapes her, and she drops to the floor.
Everything she’s said makes little sense while I try to keep up with her rants, and I blame the alcohol coursing through her veins. I drop to the floor beside her as she curls herself into a ball and pull her into my lap. Her soft fingers clutch onto my shirt, and her forehead finds the crook of my neck as she sobs. She leaves wet marks along my collar, her grip on my shirt tightening further. My chest tightens, and I recognize it as a similar feeling I’ve felt when I see mom crying. It hurts me that she’s in pain.
“There, now,” I coax into her ear, resting my chin on the top of her head. “It’s all fine. Would you like to… talk about what’s bothering you?” I’m not used to having to be so soft. The Murphy’s don’t show weakness, we don’t show our feelings. Da trained that right out of us. Says it makes what we do easier. I’m not sure what to do here, so I try to just listen.
As Haley sniffles, she pulls herself away from my chest. She wipes the back of her hand against her nose and stands. “So you can call me a liar too?”
“I don’t think you’re a liar, Haley.”
“Because you don’t know the truth, Callum.” Haley grabs the bottle of vodka, turning her back to me. “I’m tired. Can you see yourself out?”
“You’re in no condition to be alone. Hand me that bottle.” I push off my knees and grab the bottle from her.
“Get the fuck out of my home.” Her eyes are wild as she stares at me, brows furrowed. “I’m fine. I’m always fine.”
I clench my teeth, but back away, slowly. Haley turns again and walks up the stairs. I scrub my hand along my face, letting out a huff. She shouldn’t be left alone, but it isn’t my place to stay against her wishes.
Outside, Scotty leans against the hood of the SUV on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette. He sees me, and drops it to the ground, putting the butt out with the heel of his shoe. He hurries to open the back door for me, and I shake my head. “You’re staying here.”
“Boss?”
I turn to point at the window that belongs to Haley’s house. “That’s her kitchen. You stay here. Anyone stops to look into that window, you fucking shoot and ask questions later. And text me the second she’s awake or leaves. You’re on her watch until further notice.”
Scotty nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He steps back onto the sidewalk. “I’ll call you a ride, boss.”
“I’ll walk to the pub.” I need the cold air and the quiet tonight.
What the fuck is this shit? This girl is a broken mess, and I don’t know what to do about it, but for whatever reason, I’m determined to help her. Tomorrow, I have my work cut out for me.
Chapter ten
I’msurprisedwhenIwake up without a hangover the next morning. Not even a bit of a headache. Must have been super hydrated, though I don’t remember drinking water.
When I glance at the clock, I realize it’s ten in the morning, and my stomach grumbles. I need to run before I eat. Running on a full stomach always makes me sick. I don’t bother with a shower because I’ll just be getting sweaty anyway, so I head downstairs.
I try to recall the events of last night. Dinner with Drake and then Callum stalked me outside the restaurant. Fucking weirdo. I grumble, grabbing water from the fridge to help speed up the recovery of my liver. The urge to drink this morning doesn’t hit me the way it has the past few weeks.
I must have finally had a good cry last night. If only I could remember. I don’t even recall drinking too much, or at least enough to get me blackout wasted. I had some red wine at dinner and a cocktail.
While I stand in front of my large bay window overlooking the street, I wish my memory would come back to me. Callum hung around, and we shared a beer. That’s it, right?