Page 30 of Masquerade

“Nope. And I’m not going to tell her. He was a great and generous man. That’s what she wants to remember.” Although, she’d said keeping the secret had been unfair to Liam, making him question if she knew more about the extent of the debts than he’d ever revealed. “There’s more.”

“Spit it out.”

This was the hardest part. Liam’s heart raced, his throat closed and his vision blurred. He blinked back his tears—tears of rage. “There’s a strong chance the discovery he’d lost everything triggered the heart attack.”

“Feck!” Niall jackknifed to his feet and strode down to the gate. He stood there, head down, for long minutes before retracing his steps. “That’s a hard thing to hear.”

“It’s hard to say.”And almost impossible to live with.

“And you miss him as much as I do.” Niall lowered himself to the step. “You’ve avoided me so you wouldn’t tell me.” Niall scowled. “I’ll pay you back.”

“The table makes us even.”

“Was the need for money the reason you gave up environmental law? Why Selina left you?” His brother remembered too much.

“I let the lady make the announcement.” Liam grimaced. “She was a plant for Futureproof Mining, who I was fighting in those days. She got a nice promotion as a result of what we shared in bed.”

“Why didn’t you expose her?” Niall thumped a hand on the step beside him.

“I made the mistake. I shouldn’t have shared anything with her.” And Liam wasn’t worth graveyard clay as a lawyer if he ever made a similar mistake again.

“How bad was it?”

“I stepped aside. We—the environmental organisation—won the case, but my reputation was in the gutter.” He’d carried the shame for a long time.

“They were morons if they thought you had anything to do with the con.”

Another weight slid off Liam’s shoulders.

He’d missed Niall’s faith in him as well as his company. “They asked me to stay.”

“But you had to be noble.” Niall snorted in disgust.

“That’s noble savage to you, mate.” Liam grinned.

“The Mighty Quinn. Da should never have called you that. Made you think you were cock of the heap.” Niall’s voice held the tenderness of remembrance. “How’d you find out?”

“Pete Jordan. Remember him? When I met Selina, she claimed she knew him. Told me stories I thought could only have come from him. He sent me a message saying he was sorry about Dad. I rang, told him Selina and I had hooked up. He’d never met her.” Liam had been punch-drunk with grief at the time, and his dad’s death was the greater loss.

“When?”

“Bare weeks after Dad’s death. Before Dad’s accountant contacted me about what he’d found.” Then rage had become his eating, drinking and sleeping companion.

“I would have come home.”

Liam reached out a hand and gripped his brother’s shoulder. “You’d have surrendered your mentorship in a New York minute. Mum would have been devastated all over again. She didn’t know all the details about Selina, but your dream was the only one we had left. We needed you to live your dream.” He exhaled, releasing the desperation driving his judgement. “I needed you to live your dream.”

“I had the right to the decision.” Niall lifted the bottle, then let his arm sink back down. “And the conversation.”

“I don’t know what I was thinkin’.” Liam appreciated how easy his brother was making this confession.

“The Almighty Quinn! It was mud and chicken feathers you were wearing, nothing bloody noble about it.” His brother stared at him. “Is the billboard why you’re telling me now?”

“Yes.” Liam reached for a second beer, held it up to his brother. “Share?”

Niall nodded.

“For the first twelve months, I took every paying job in Newcastle. Stayed there to be close to Mum and keep costs down. Then I lucked out with George Clelland.” He looked at the bottle dangling between his hands.

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