Page 24 of Hooked

I know a great way to channel that energy.

Shit. Not helping.

“It can be a lot for someone like yourself who prefers peace and quiet.”

Oh, I like a lot of noise in certain situations.

“But she’s got a big heart.”

“Yeah,” I say, desperately needing the distraction. “I don’t get the whole party thing, but I appreciate that she’s spending locally at least.”

“No, I know you’re not big on social events.” He sighs. “But she’s a breath of fresh air, and I didn’t always appreciate her when I should’ve.”

Normally I wouldn’t ask. It’s not my place. But my curiosity about Sia overrides my better judgment. Plus I still have this goddamn erection.

“What do you mean?” A simple enough question.

He sighs. “She was a sensitive kid, you know? Smart, talented—took after my sister. Her middle name’s Kathleen. She was little when Kathleen passed, and no one else really had that sensitive artist’s soul. Other than your pal, Kieran, of course.”

No thanks to thinking about Kieran right now. Then again, maybe that’s the boner killer I need. “Yes, but in a very different package.”

“Exactly,” Danny says. “She was a small girl in a family of mostly big, loud men. She tried her best to fit in, but even with her bubbly charm she was easy to overlook. She and Drew were close, though.”

“She’s mentioned him a few times,” I say cautiously.

Danny runs his hands through his white hair and looks up at the ceiling. Sia did the same earlier when she was trying to get control of her feelings. Do they know they have this in common?

“She stood by him, even when he started hanging out with a bunch of arrogant losers. They gave him hell for letting this sweet young girl hang around, so he shut her right out. I’d see her painting by herself on the front porch like she was waiting for him to change his mind. And I didn’t go sit with her, Vinny. I just tsk tsk’d and went back to whatever drama of the moment I was obsessed with.”

Danny gets up and grabs some coffee, pouring some for me as well.

“I figured it was kids’ stuff, right? It’s not unusual for teenagers to stop hanging out with friends or even family of the opposite sex. Then she tried to tell me that he’d gotten into harder drugs with these idiots. I didn’t believe her, of course. Figured she was just out for the attention she wasn’t getting from him.”

I’m uncomfortable hearing Danny’s confession, but it helps me understand Sia’s habits a little better.

“And then he was gone. It was too hard to see her, Vinny. I couldn’t look at her without thinking of him—until he’d met those losers, you never saw Sia without seeing Drew, too. And I should’ve believed her. I think maybe part of me did and seeing her reminded me of how I was complicit in my boy’s death. So I shut her out. When she got older, she started hosting these big family parties over with the Doyles. I’m surprised you never were invited.”

“Kieran knows better,” I reply.

“Or maybe he doesn’t,” Danny says, crooking a hairy eyebrow. “Anyway, she was trying to create a tradition to bring us all together.”

Or trying to create a place where she wouldn’t be shut out.

It doesn’t seem to have worked very well, but I don’t say that. He’s getting to the thing he doesn’t want to say, based on the heavy sighs and his silence. He wants me to fill the void, but I don’t. Finally, he relents.

“Anyway, last time she was here, she begged me to come to Christmas, said my son wouldn’t want me to waste away here alone.” He takes a big swig of hot coffee and flinches at the burn. “I yelled at her, Vinny. Told her she had no idea what Drew would want or how I felt. Told her she should’ve tried harder to convince me that he was on drugs. Asked her why she hadn’t been there with Drew when it mattered, when he was overdosing, when they’d always been inseparable before. I screamed at her for being alive when he wasn’t. I blamed her for his death, but after she left, I excused what I’d done because I’d done it out of grief. My wife had just drank herself to death and I was a mess. I figured Sia would get over it and come back—she always had before.”

He sighs. “But she didn’t. And I was too ashamed to reach out to her. And then you showed up at my door with her half dead in your arms. Scared the shit out of me.” His voice cracks, and then he laughs.

Jesus. Even through the haze of grief, that’s a heavy thing to lay on someone. From what she’d said, Sia was just a teenager when he died. I’d had to be an adult before my time, and it seems like she had to as well. It suddenly strikes me that no one has reached out to her even though she could’ve died in that storm. Maybe she hasn’t told anyone because she’s not someone people think to worry about? I don’t understand that. Where are her parents?

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be all sentimental on you, Vinny. Just because you’re quiet doesn’t mean you want to listen to the ramblings of an old man.”

“I don’t mind,” I say, finishing my coffee. “But I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

His head bobs forward in agreement. “I figured helping her with her party would be a good start. And then Christmas here will be nice. First time I’ll be celebrating in years.”

Sia will need a little more than that, but it’s not my business. But thankfully my hard-on is gone. I’m done with feelings for the day and it’s not even noon. I get up to put my mug in the dishwasher and grab two muffins from a bowl on the counter. Blueberry and something unidentifiable from the outside. Surprise muffins can go either really well or really badly. I break a chunk off the top and eat it.

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