Kate’s shoulders trembled in his arms. “And you know what he said to me when he found out? He said, ‘Katie-bug, I can’t believe she’d do such a thing after all the good years I gave her.’”
Liam said nothing. What could you say to that?
“I still feel sick when I think about it. Right after he said it, I must have spent the next hour crouched over the toilet. I puked my guts up every night for a week afterward. And my dad just kept on betting. He didn’t even come to the funeral. It made my skin crawl, to see him so diseased.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I just couldn’t look him in the face anymore. My mom supported him their whole married life. She dug him out of every hole. And when he’d finally broken her, he still didn’t snap out of it. I don’t want my friend Lisa to end up the same way.”
“I’m sure she won’t. She has you.”
“My mom had me, too.” She let out a bitter laugh and swallowed back a huge gulp of beer. “What good am I? Lisa says she admires me, but she has no idea I still enable my dad.”
He grasped her by the shoulders. “Then justify Lisa’s faith in you. Right here. Right now.”
She blinked away a few more tears. She reached inside her handbag and produced a bank card and a small pair of craft scissors. “This card is how I leave him money. Will you cut up the card for me?”
“No. But I’ll hold it while you cut it up.”
She gazed at him, unsure. Liam offered her an encouraging grin and held the card out for her.
“Go on, Kate.”
With a nod, she positioned the scissors and cut straight through the plastic. Half of the card dropped on the table with an anticlimactic tap. Liam picked it up and she did it again to both halves.
She looked up at him as she put the scissors back in her bag, pale, but clearly relieved. Like the weight of the world, or at least a good sized chunk of it, had been taken of her shoulders.
“I’m proud of you.”
“I’ve been carrying those damn scissors around for months, trying to get up the courage.” She let out a quiet but shaky laugh. “I don’t think I could have done it without your help.”
His chest swelled with pride at that. He couldn’t have felt better if he’d discovered fire. “This calls for another beer.”
She smiled. “I’d like that. But you’d better make mine a cranberry juice. I’ve had enough excitement for one evening.”
As he motioned for the waitress, his gaze still locked on Kate, he was determined to give her a lot more excitement. Just not the card-cutting kind.
Kate stood in the ladies’ bathroom at Franky’s while Liam took care of their order. As much as possible, she cleaned up her mascara smudges with a wet tissue. She still had the chopped-up bits of bank card in her jeans pocket. Before she lost her nerve, she walked into one of the stalls, dug them out and dropped the plastic chunks into the toilet, flushing for good measure.
No way she could fish them out in a moment of weakness now.
Only she didn’t feel weak anymore. She felt like freaking Wonder Woman. Liam Doyle had helped her surmount her greatest fear. That had to go in the dictionary under the definition of ironic. In cutting up her card, her plastic crutch, she felt as if her last connection to her dad had been severed, and the ever-present ball of tension in her shoulders seemed to have rolled away.
As sad as it sounded, she needed to eliminate that bond. Their relationship was toxic, and until he accepted help there was nothing she could do for him. It was time to start taking her own advice.
She reapplied a bit of lip gloss and pinched her cheeks to give them some color. It seemed important to look good for Liam now. It was bad enough he looked as edible as a country-western sex god with his muscles, jeans and boots. She didn’t need to look like a pasty, snotty kid next to him. Grinning at her reflection in the mirror for encouragement, she left the restroom.
The shouts in the bar area caught her attention before she even got back to their booth. The band had stopped playing and everyone’s attention had gathered around two men. She craned her neck to look.
Liam had another man pressed up against the bar.
“Oh, my God.” She raced forward, pushing past a couple of bikers.
“What did you say to me?” Liam’s face was inches away from the other man’s.
“You heard me. Call off your boy Perreira. You’re fucking stalking me and my family. It’s bad enough I can’t go anywhere in my own house without hearing your name. Now I have to get threats from your legal team? Fuck you, Doyle. I don’t care if you can afford the best lawyer in town. You. Don’t. Get. Michelle.”
So this was Andy. She wanted to dislike him on Liam’s behalf, but she supposed she could see why he had a hold on Bridget. He was handsome, although lankier than Liam. She had to admit there was something about him that set her on edge. Perhaps it was the self-entitled air that surrounded him like a halo of smoke around a Vegas gambler.
Sure, she could understand why he’d resent Liam, but shouldn’t he also be somewhat appreciative? Liam had taken care of his family for three years. You’d think the man could muster up a little humility.
On the other hand, she hadn’t been harassed by lawyers for who-knows how long.
“Well, we’ll see about that,” said Liam. “You said yourself, Michelle loves me, not you. She’d be happier with me, you piece of shit. You abandoned her.”
Andy pushed Liam back. “Get the fuck off me, Doyle. I made my mistakes. I owned up to them. Bridget forgave me.”
“Well, I didn’t. And Bridget doesn’t know which way is up. Don’t play good daddy with me. I know you’re scum.”
“You’re pissed because Michelle’s my kid, not yours. And now the great Liam Doyle wants to get one of his prized possessions back.”
“She’s not a possession.” He curled his fist in the other man’s shirt.
“Could have fooled me, the way you’re after her. You got a special trophy case for her to live in?”
Kate sidled up to him and put a hand on his back. She felt his muscles tense, ready to lunge. “Liam, don’t rise to it.”
His eyes stayed locked on Andy. “He doesn’t deserve her.”
“I know. Come on. Let’s go sit down.”
Kate gently pried Liam off Andy. The crowd dispersed and the band resumed playing.
Andy straightened his collar and sneered. “Call off Perreira. And if I ever catch you trying to contact my wife or kid again, I’ll have you arrested.” He grunted. “You know, all this attention to another man’s daughter makes me think you might be a pervert. Some sort of sicko who gets off on children.”
Before she could stop him, Liam turned and let his fist fly. The resounding crack was one Kate would never forget. Andy fell back against the bar, cradling a bleeding nose.
“I’ll sue your fucking ass,” he shouted in a nasal voice. “I’ve got witnesses!”
A few of the men drew near, Beck and Nolan and a big man from behind the bar she assumed to be Franky. Beck ambled forward and put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, friend,” he said. “It’s pretty dark in here. Hard to see.”
“Yeah,” echoed Nolan. “Hell, I’ve had so many beers tonight, I’m not even sure where I am.”
Franky helped Andy to his feet, but not out of kindness. “Get the fuck out of my bar, dipshit. I don’t like people who upset my regulars.” He wiped a glass with a tea towel, but his gesture indicated he’d rather wipe the floor with Andy.
Andy let out a laugh laced with spite and glared at Liam. “Guess you own this place too, huh?” Muttering to himself, he staggered out of the bar.
Kate ushered Liam back to their table. He still resembled a serpent waiting to strike, his shoulders and arms tight, and muscles coiled.