Dad opened his mouth to answer, but snapped it shut before a sound escaped. He tilted his head to the side as he considered the questions.
“I think you broke Dad,” Aidan said after a moment. “He looks confused and he’s quiet. No one in this house is ever quiet.”
“I’m debating the proper answer,” Dad said. “I’m not sure there is a proper response for what’s happening here.” To my utter disbelief, he released the back of my hoodie. “Go upstairs and talk to him.”
“Really?” I was agog at the shift in his demeanor. “I thought you just said that was a bad idea.”
“I don’t know if it’s a good or bad idea,” Dad clarified. “I do know that you have certain instincts when it comes to Griffin, and because you know him best those instincts are probably correct. You’ll know what to do when you see him.”
“I will?” That was news to me. “I just plan to sit on him until he agrees it was a mistake and lets it go.”
Dad shrugged. “Go ahead and try that. What could it possibly hurt?”
I hoped he wouldn’t end up regretting that question.
GRIFFIN LAY ON MY bed, one of my old stuffed dogs on his chest, staring at the ceiling when I walked into the bedroom. He didn’t bother to glance in my direction even though I knew he was aware of my presence.
“Telling your troubles to Mr. Bark, huh?” I climbed on the bed next to Griffin and tried not to take it personally when he inched away so he wouldn’t accidentally touch me.
“Mr. Bark?” Griffin arched an eyebrow and shifted his eyes to me. He looked hollowed out and a bit haunted. It caused my stomach to flip.
I gestured toward the dog. “Dad bought him for me when I was five or six. I thought the name was clever at that age.”
“I’m sure.” Griffin ran his hand down the dog’s head. “How did your trip to the funeral parlor go?”
“I don’t know. Cillian talked to the family. I ran into Angelina, so I was distracted. Cillian babbled on and on about something on our way back, but I was more interested in seeing you than listening. I’m sure he can catch me up later.”
“You ran into Angelina, huh?” I could tell it took a monumental effort for Griffin to engage in the conversation. “You don’t look bloody and bruised … .” He winced as he trailed off.
“Nope. I’m perfectly fine.” I kept my voice purposely breezy. “We barely insulted one another, if you want to know the truth. It wasn’t even worthy of a spot on our top one-hundred list.”
“You have a top one-hundred list?”
“Top one-hundred interactions,” I confirmed. “Everyone loves a good countdown list. I’m no exception.”
“Good to know.” He licked his lips, his eyes uncertain. I could tell he wanted to say something, was gearing up to do it, steeling himself for my reaction, which made me uneasy. “Why was she at the funeral parlor?” Until he found the courage he would engage in mundane conversation.
“Her mother is insisting on hammering out all the details of her funeral before she dies,” I replied. “Angelina was there picking up fabric samples and catalogs.”
“Huh.” Griffin’s expression was hard to read. “You look sad about that. If it were someone else, I can see you being sad. This is Angelina. I can’t even imagine you feeling sorry for her.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what to make of it either,” I admitted. “When my mother died she completely ruined her funeral.”
Griffin furrowed his brow. “What?”
I nodded. “Angelina was with her mother, and I was spoiling for a fight, but all she kept saying was how sorry she was for me. I wanted something to be normal, anything really, and I focused on her. That’s when I knew things would never be normal again.
“At the time, I thought she was being smug and all … well, Angelina,” I continued. “I thought she had an angle for acting the way she did. Now I can’t help but wonder if she simply felt sorry for me. I think there might’ve been sympathy there, but I was too stubborn to see it.”
“And that’s why you feel bad for Angelina now?” Griffin prodded.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel bad for her, which makes me angry at myself, but I can’t shake it. Her mother is dying. She’s completely on her own. She has no one.”
“Maybe that’s the way she prefers it,” Griffin noted. “I think, when it comes to the death of someone we care about, we’re all alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have Dad … and my brothers … and Jerry. I have you.” I slid a sidelong look in his direction and found him staring intently at my face. “I do still have you, right?”
Griffin heaved out a sigh as he pressed his eyes shut. “Baby, I love you. That will never change, but … .”
I held up a hand to cut him off. “If you try to make some stupid move to leave so you can protect me, I’ll hunt you down and lock you in the trunk of my car until you change your mind.”
Despite the fact that we were mired in a surreal situation, Griffin barked out a laugh. “That right there is why I love you.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine. I wanted to curl into him, to let him hold me, but I knew he wasn’t ready for that yet. “I’m afraid, Aisling.”
He barely whispered the last three words, yet they cut through my heart as if he bellowed them. “Why are you afraid?”
“I can’t hurt you. I won’t let myself hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“No, but I wanted to.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “It was as if I was inside my head and knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself from reacting the way I did. There was a fire raging inside my head. No matter what I felt for you – and the love was still there, which I swear almost made it worse – I couldn’t make myself stop.
“I thought my heart was going to shred at the look on your face, but I couldn’t stop myself even then,” he continued. “I was trapped in my own body, and if your brother hadn’t stopped me I would’ve torn you apart.”
“Redmond did stop you.” I refused to dwell on what-ifs. “You’re here. You’re safe. We know to be more careful from here on out. Those are the most important things.”
“You’re the most important thing to me,” Griffin countered. “I need you to be safe.”
“I am safe. I’m here with you. There’s no safer place.”
“Oh, you’re killing me.” Griffin drew me in for a long hug and I buried my face in his shoulder. He shuddered as he gave in to the contact, which caused a few tears to leak from my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” My voice cracked. “It wasn’t your fault. You need to let it go.”
“I don’t know that I can.”
“You have to. I’ll torture you if you don’t.”
“You’ll torture me, huh?”
I nodded when I felt his hand move to my cheek, soft fingers swiping at tears. “I can get through anything but losing you, so you’re going to have to pull yourself together. It’s going to take the whole team to figure this out … and you’re a big part of the team.”
“I am? When did that happen?”
“I think it happened the day I met you, although it took me a lot longer to figure it out. You’re the other half of my personal team, and I need you.”
“I need you, too.” Griffin pulled me completely on his lap as he rocked back and forth. “I’m still sorry.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he shook his head to cut me off.
“You have to let me feel guilt and work through it.” Griffin’s tone was firm. “That’s non-negotiable.”
I knew he was right.. “Okay. If you want to feel guilt, you can. You can work it off by giving me a massage later.”
Griffin chuckled and the sound echoed in my ear … and in my heart. “That sounds like a plan.” He kissed my forehead before resting his cheek there. “I think we need to stay here until this is over. I don’t plan on being caught unaware outside again – especially when you’re near – but you’re sa
fer when you’re close to your father and brothers.”
“If that makes you feel better, I can live with it. It will give me a chance to let Dad spoil me.”
“Yes, because that’s such a rarity.”
“Yeah, well, I like to go with my strengths.”
We lapsed into a few moments of silence. I, of course, was the first to break it. “Are you ready to brave downstairs? Dinner should be ready in a bit. I’m starving.”
“Five more minutes.” Griffin exhaled heavily as he tightened his grip on me. “I just need this for five more minutes.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
18
Eighteen
I could tell Griffin wasn’t keen on joining the rest of the family for dinner – and I considered bringing dinner to him so he could remain isolated and comfortable – but ultimately I knew it was important to force him to interact with everyone. He would be better for it in the long run.
Everyone was in the parlor having drinks, so I wordlessly led him there, our fingers linked as he morosely trudged beside me. I directed Griffin toward the empty couch on one side of the room and headed to the drink cart. This situation definitely required alcohol.
“How are you feeling?” Jerry asked Griffin, his face lined with sympathy.
“I’m fine.” Griffin flashed a weak smile. “I just needed some time to regroup.”
“You look better,” Dad noted, reclining in his favorite chair as he looked Griffin up and down. “I wasn’t sure sending Aisling to you was a good idea, but it looks as if she got the job done.”
Griffin furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
Dad’s smile was hard to read. He looked sympathetic to Griffin’s plight and yet amused at the same time. “She’s often hard to control and read, but you already know that. She immediately headed toward the stairs when she got back because she was determined to see you. I wasn’t sure that was a good idea, so I tried to stop her.”
Griffin quietly thanked me for the drink when I handed it to him and gave me a soft pat on the knee as I sat. He wasn’t back to his usual playful self, but he was trying hard and I had to give him points for the effort.
“It was good you let her up,” Griffin said after a moment. “We needed some time together.”
“You definitely did.” Dad smirked. “If you even think of doing that little dance you do when you’re right, Aisling, I’ll make you eat liver for dinner.”
“What is for dinner?” I asked, changing the subject. “I’m starving.”
“I thought we could all use some comfort food,” Dad replied. “I went with roast beef, mashed potatoes, corn and cake.”
I was instantly suspicious. “What kind of cake?”
“Red velvet.”
All favorites of Griffin. I should’ve seen that coming. Griffin did a little dance of his own whenever Dad had red velvet cake and roast beef. I wanted to weep I was so grateful for Dad’s effort. Instead I remained nonchalant. “That sounds good. I could use some comfort food.”
“I believe we all could,” Dad said. “We were just talking about what Cillian learned at the funeral home, something I believe you didn’t help with at all, young lady. I didn’t send you with your brother simply so you could interfere with Angelina.”
“I didn’t interfere with her.” Sadly, that was true. “Do you know her mother insists on planning her entire funeral and making Angelina grab catalogs and fabric samples?”
Dad raised his eyebrows. “No. That sounds like Carol, though.”
Mom, who had remained largely silent as she sat between Redmond and Aidan, made a face. “She always was a piece of work. I’m guessing she wants to go all out and turn her funeral into a worship session or something,” she said. “I always hated that woman.”
“I still hate her. She’s mean and nasty. Angelina looks like death warmed over. I think she’s about ready to drop.”
“Really?” Dad’s lips curved with amusement. “Since when do you care about things like that? I would think that Angelina’s misfortune would make you dance rather than succumb to sympathy. It’s not like you to fret over Angelina’s feelings.”
“I’m not fretting,” I shot back, leaning closer to Griffin to share some of his warmth. He eyed me for a moment, uncertain, and then slipped his arm around my back. Another step in the right direction, although minor. “I hate that word, by the way. It’s a lame word.”
“Fine. I don’t know what other word to use,” Dad said. “I can’t understand why you’re working yourself up over Angelina. You’ve always hated her.”
“I still hate her.” That was true. “It’s just … she’s alone. She’s doing it all on her own. If something happened to you – which no one wants for a really long time – at least I wouldn’t be alone. I’d have my brothers, Jerry and Griffin to help. Angelina has no one.”
Dad’s expression turned thoughtful. “I think you’re saying that you’ve learned empathy.”
“I don’t know what I’m feeling. I only know that I could barely spit out one insult before I gave up and it’s making me uncomfortable. I prefer being able to tell her she’s worse than vomited refried beans without feeling bad about it.”
Dad barked out a laugh as he shook his head. “Even when you’re maturing you always manage to slide back into your comfort zone, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess. What did Cillian learn at the funeral home?”
Cillian made a face as he leaned back in his seat. “I told you on the ride home.”
“I had other things on my mind.”
“Yes, she needed to see her love muffin,” Braden sneered, although he looked as relieved as everyone else to see Griffin up and about. “That’s all she could think about.”
Griffin smiled. “Well, that makes me feel a little better. My face still hurts a bit, but I’m thankful for the pain because it means I didn’t hurt her.”
I was surprised he addressed the elephant in the room. I thought he might let it go for another twenty-four hours at least, but that wasn’t the way he opted to deal with things.
“I’m sorry I had to hit you,” Redmond said after a beat, shifting uncomfortably. “It was the only thing I could think to do.”
“You did the right thing,” Griffin insisted. “If I’d hurt her … .”
“You didn’t hurt her,” Dad said hurriedly. “She’s fine. She’s still here to run her mouth and manipulate all of us to get what she wants. Everything turned out well, so … let’s not dwell on it.”
“Now, wait a second,” Mom countered. “If Griffin wants to feel bad about what he did, I think that’s only fair.”
I narrowed my eyes to dangerous slits as I glared at Mom. She would be the one to make things uncomfortable. That used to be my job before she came back from the dead, but she’d taken over the role of chief family annoyer since her return. It was, quite frankly, a relief to cede the title.
“He should feel bad about what happened,” Mom continued. “He could’ve really hurt Aisling, especially since I doubt very much she would’ve done anything to protect herself. That’s not how we raised her, but I see it on her face. She would’ve let him hurt her rather than hurt him to save herself.”
That did it. I knew what Mom was doing and I had no intention of letting her get away with it. “I wouldn’t have let him hurt me. It’s true I would’ve done my best to make sure he wasn’t injured, but I wouldn’t have simply sat there and let him hurt me.”
“No, she wouldn’t have,” Dad agreed, his eyes flashing with impatience as they landed on Mom. “Lily, is there a reason you feel the need to make things worse every single time you wade into a family conversation?”
Mom balked. “I was trying to help.”
“Well done.” Dad rolled his eyes. “As for Griffin feeling bad, it’s not necessary. Aisling is fine. Griffin has shown his willingness to die for her on more than one occasion. We know that he didn’t attack of his own volition, so we should
put it behind us.”
“I agree,” I said, making a face at Mom that caused Griffin to crack a legitimate smile.
“I’m not trying to dwell on it,” Mom insisted. “I know you think that, but it’s not true. I was pointing out a simple fact.”
“Really?” I was done playing this game. “Do you feel guilty about the people you eat to sustain yourself? I mean … I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything, but it is a simple fact that you’re doing something to survive – something you don’t want us to know about – and we all have an idea what that something is.”
If looks could kill I’d be deader than Harry Turner and his hairy back. I didn’t care. I was sick of Mom’s attitude when it came to Griffin. I almost preferred when she was upfront about her dislike for him. The passive aggressive game she played was somehow worse.
“Thank you for your input, Aisling,” Mom hissed.
“You’re welcome.” I leaned back in my seat and smiled at Cillian. “You were going to say something about what you learned at the funeral home before the conversation careened off topic.”
“You helped it careen,” Braden grumbled, his irritation obvious. He always was a mama’s boy. “You shouldn’t talk to Mom like that. It’s not fair.”
I ignored the admonishment. “What did you learn at the funeral home, Cillian? Did Harry’s relatives admit that he had a witch for a mother?”
“Yes and no,” Cillian replied, shifting uncomfortably as he glanced between Mom and me. He clearly didn’t like the conversation, but he wasn’t about to force an argument. Unlike Braden, if it came to a fight I knew Cillian would be on my side. I had a feeling Braden would be my only sibling to turn on me, and it was a sobering thought. “Turner’s sister and niece were doing most of the planning. They brought his ex-wife along for the ride, although I’m still not certain why.”
I forced myself to focus on the conversation. If Cillian had to relate the tale to me a third time he would definitely shift his loyalty to Mom. “So the ex-wife stayed close to the family even after the divorce?”
Grim Tempest Page 17