Page 52 of Hooked

“My dad had found him a spot in rehab, and he decided to go on one last bender before he got clean. And it was the last one.” Kieran lays a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Nothing that happened was your fault. Drew made some bad choices and he paid a heavy price for them. But he’d be devastated to know how much you’re paying for them too. He wouldn’t want that for you.”

I’d told my uncle the same thing. I don’t bother keeping the tears at bay.

“I don’t think Vinny meant or even believed what he said,” Kieran continues. “But it doesn’t matter. It was a shitty fucking thing to say. If I’m being kind, I think his feelings for you scared him. He’s been through a lot and bottled shit up to survive but didn’t stop that habit even after he was out of the bad situations. That shit festered and exploded the first chance it got. And you were the collateral damage.”

Kieran winces at my continued red-faced crying. No one’s seen me like this since they told me Drew died. I couldn’t even cry at his funeral. My parents had warned me not to embarrass them with unseemly blubbering.

“I’ll go back and finish the job,” Kieran says. “I swear to fucking god. I don’t care if he’s been my friend for a decade. I’ll snap his goddamn neck if you say the word.”

The earnestness in Kieran’s voice as he threatens to murder someone breaks something in me. I hug him. “No murder on Christmas Eve.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind the offer stands. I’m open for business even on Christmas.”

I let out a strangled laugh and he gives me a squeeze before standing up to leave.

“Drink that water,” he says. “We’re going to bake the shit out of some cookies later if you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks, Kieran. I’m glad you told me.”

He nods, then ducks out of my room, leaving me to mull over my troubled thoughts.

18

Vinny

Sia’s suitcases sit in the entryway of my house. I can’t bear to look at them. But I can’t bear to move them out of the way, either.

I hadn’t even shown her the portfolio yet.

That’s still sitting on the passenger side of my truck, buckled in because I’m a goddamn idiot.

My face throbs. It’s what I deserve for becoming a sentimental idiot who fell for a sentimental woman obsessed with Christmas.

I need to go.

Get the hell out of here. Grab Taco and find a new place where no one knows me and I can forget about Kieran, this fucking fish shack, and all of the demons from my past

And Sia?

Do I want to forget her? The sweet taste of her on my lips? The sound of her laugh, her arm threaded through mine? The warmth of her pressed up next to me?

She trusted me. She cared enough to tell me the hard truths.

And I hurt her like my foster parents had hurt me. Hit her where she was the most vulnerable. Shredded her like her uncle had.

I’m so goddamn ashamed.

It had been a relief when Kieran came by and beat the hell out of me.

Gave me something to focus on other than the look on Sia’s face when she’d realized what a despicable human being I am.

In the bathroom, I clean up the gash on my cheek. It’s substantial. I mop up the blood, swipe on some antibacterial ointment and put on a butterfly bandage.

He came by, treating me like some kind of hero and I couldn’t stomach it. Told him what I did.

“You saidwhatto her?”

A second of heavy silence had passed between us, and then I was on the floor, Kieran slamming his fist into my face. I punched back once, out of instinct, but then just let it happen.

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