Chapter Twenty-Eight

Norah

The last week of the Fall Semester has finally arrived, and luckily for me, I only have two finals, and they're both later this week. I've spent the last two days studying, but today, I'm taking a break to have lunch with Alicia. After Thanksgiving, we didn't really have a chance to talk about whatever happened between her and Ro, so when the opportunity became available, we took advantage.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened between you and Ro, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?" I ask, folding my arms on the table.

Alicia groans and hangs her head. "Ugh, Norie, do we have to talk about this?"

"If you really don't want to, then I respect that, but you might feel better if you get it off your chest."

"You're right, I guess. It's just…it's kind of embarrassing," she confesses.

Eamon relayed Ro's side of the story to me already, but I need to hear it from Alicia.

I place my hand over my heart and vow, "I won't laugh or make fun of you. I promise."

She hesitates, then points a finger at me. "Fine. But this goes nowhere, understand? I don't want Pat to know. I'd never hear the end of it."

Alicia divulges the story of running into Rowan at a club. They participated in their regular banter, but as their alcohol levels increased, the banter turned more suggestive. Alicia begged Rowan to dance with her, so between the booze and the physical proximity, one thing led to another, and they found themselves locked in the bathroom.

"I was fully aware that this was going to be a one-time hookup. I know Ro. He doesn't do relationships, and I know better than to expect more," she tells me. "I just wanted to live in the moment, you know? How often do you get to hook up with a sexy Irish soccer player?"

I shrug and say, "Well, I don't know about you, but I…"

"Okay, well we can't all be Norah Grady, and I doubt that you want to share."

I laugh and say, "No, I really don't. But I can speak from experience that one time will never satisfy that craving."

God, isn't that the truth? Just thinking about Eamon has me feeling hot and bothered.

Alicia gapes at me, "That's not helpful. Especially since he stopped us before anything happened."

She scowls while stabbing the food on her plate with a fork. Note to self, Rowan denying her makes her stabby.

Acting like I don't know anything, I gasp incredulously, "You're joking! Rowan Gallagher stopped a hookup?"

"Yes," she whines but continues, "he said it wasn't right and that we'd had too much to drink. Which is true, but I knew what I was doing. He wouldn't believe me when I told him that. I was so embarrassed and pissed off that I stormed out of there, and I haven't spoken to him since. He's tried to talk to me a few times at the pub. I try to ignore him, but I'd love nothing more than to throw a beer in his face."

"It's hard to believe that Ro has a gallant bone in his body, but it sounds like he was trying to keep from taking advantage of you. I'd say that's a sign of respect, which we all know is not something he's known for," I say soothingly.

"Did you know he cornered me at your place on Thanksgiving?" Alicia asks, setting her fork down.

"Yeah." I nod. "I saw him follow you back there, but that's all."

"He basically said the same thing. That he respected me too much to make me one of his casual hookups. I'm not sure if I believe him. He'll sleep with anything that has a vagina, but not me. Clearly, there's something wrong with me if even Rowan Gallagher won't touch me," Alicia says, picking her fork back up and spearing her food as if it were Ro's face.

"Hey," I say softly, stretching my hand out to stop her from breaking the plate. "I can guarantee you that there is nothing wrong with you." She rolls her eyes in answer, and I hesitate before asking, "What if I told you that he talked to Eamon and Teagan about that night?"

Her head pops up, and the fork clatters against her plate. "You already knew?"

I nod and tell her, "I did, but I wanted to know your side since Ro is known for his tall tales. I'm sorry if that feels like trickery."

Alicia lets out a long sigh. "No, it's fine. I guess if anyone had to know, I'm glad it was you. So…what exactly did Ro say?"

I can't tell her all of the details because they need to come from Rowan.

"All that I'll say is that he definitely doesn't think there's anything wrong with you. The rest you'll have to ask him about."

We spend the rest of our time catching up on everything but O'Nelly's and Irish soccer players.

After lunch, I head home to go over my study guides again, but as I settle on the couch, books and note cards spread out on the coffee table before me, when my phone rings. I don't recognize the number, but the area code is from back home, and a sense of foreboding washes over me.

"Hello?" I answer cautiously.

"Hello, this is Detective Morrow from the Ozark Police Department. Is this Norah Grady?" a deep and matter-of-fact voice asks.

I'm stunned momentarily but slowly say, "Yes, this is Norah Grady."

"I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am, but I understand you went to high school with an Ashton Kirk. Is that correct?"

My blood runs cold, and my hands start shaking. I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"Um," I start, my voice shaking, "Yes, I did. I'm sorry, what is this about?"

"We've recently launched an investigation into some allegations made against him, and your name was given to us by another one of your former classmates who prefers to remain anonymous. She's accusing Mr. Kirk of assault and gave us a list of some of his possible past victims. Ms. Grady, I realize this is probably very uncomfortable for you to hear, but I'd greatly appreciate any information you may have," Detective Morrow states professionally.

"Um…" I say again, "Did this person say how she found out about that?"

My mind is reeling. The only person I told in that town was Charlie.

"Our source said that she found a notebook in Mr. Kirk's home listing his victims," he tells me.

My stomach rolls, but I take a deep breath. If this other person can be brave enough to tell her story, then I can be brave enough to tell mine.

"Yes, Detective Morrow. Ashton Kirk raped me when I was seventeen."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Grady. May I ask why the incident wasn't reported at the time?" he asks, honest curiosity in his voice.

"Honestly? I was terrified and convinced that no one would believe me. He was the golden boy of our town. In hindsight, I realize how stupid it was of me to not tell someone, but I was seventeen and naive," I say, then add, "I'd never been intimate with anyone before."

"I understand, Ms. Grady. Times have certainly changed regarding sexual assault and victims reporting it. I'll be frank with you. According to this list, Mr. Kirk raped or assaulted fourteen girls and young women between the year you graduated and now. I know this will be difficult, but would you be willing to come to the station to give your statement?" he asks.

I choke on a sob, completely devastated by the number of women who endured the same abuse at Ashton's hands.

"Is it possible to do this remotely, Detective?" I ask. "I live in North Carolina now, and I'm in the middle of final exams."

"Yes, Ms. Grady," he says, "I can take a verbal statement over the phone, then you can type it up and send it via email. However, when the case goes to trial, you'll likely be called upon to testify in court."

My stomach revolts again, but I tell him, "I understand, Detective. I'll do all that I can to help."

After giving my verbal testimony and reliving the horror of the attack, I hang up the phone. As soon as I do, I break down, sobbing uncontrollably. I can feel myself starting to sink into a panic attack, but I can't get a handle on it. I never thought I'd hear Ashton's name again, let alone see him. I moved forward with my life. I live in a wonderful city, have an amazing job, and incredible friends, and I found Eamon. I'm trying to focus on these things, but my throat is tightening and my heart is pounding out of my chest. I'm gasping for breath when there's a quick knock on the door and Eamon walks in.

He's immediately on his knees before me, cupping my face in both of his large warm hands.

"Norah! Christ, what's wrong?"

I can't answer him.

"Norah, look at me. Focus on my face," he commands. "That's it. Now take a deep breath. In and out. Breathe with me, love. There's a good lass. In. And out."

He keeps a firm grip on my face, eyes locked with mine, breathing deeply with me. Finally, my eyes begin to clear and the sobbing subsides. I'm still shaking slightly, but he rubs his thumbs soothingly over my cheekbones until it stops.

When I'm able to speak, I ask, "How did you know to do that? "

He brushes away the tear that slips out. "My sister. She had panic attacks for a while after my Da died. I was the only one who could calm her down. Now, can you tell me what triggered this?"

My eyes fill with tears again as I relay the conversation with Detective Morrow. I focus on his face, his eyes tethering me to the here and now.

"He told me I'll have to testify in court," I say. "Obviously, I'll do whatever they need me to, but I don't think I'm strong enough to be in the same room as him."

Still kneeling in front of me, he grips my hands in his. "Listen to me, Acushla. You are not only strong enough, but you're brave enough to do this. And you won't be alone. There's no way in hell I'll let you be anywhere near him without me present. I'll be with you through it all. If we have to travel back to Missouri a hundred times, so be it. I, personally, won't rest until this fucker is in prison."

"Thank you," I whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere, love," he says, kissing my forehead and stroking my hair comfortingly. "Do you want to go to Paddy's for a distraction? It's been a while, and I know he always makes you smile."

"He does make me smile, but I'm not exactly ready," I gesture to my sweatpants.

"So go get ready. You look good enough to eat to me," he winks, "but if it makes you feel better, do it. I'll ring the crew and have them meet us there."

I love this man. Not only does he soothe my panic attacks, but he knows just what to say to bring me back to myself.

"Okay, deal."

I have the immense satisfaction of watching Eamon's eyes widen and jaw drop when I walk out of the bathroom in a black cable-knit sweater dress that sits mid-thigh and knee-high black boots. My hair is twisted up into a sleek ballerina bun at the top of my head, showcasing a pair of diamond studs that belonged to my Mom.

Clearing his throat, he slides off the bar stool and slowly stalks towards me.

"I take it back," he says roughly. "We don't need to go anywhere tonight. I have better ideas involving you and these boots."

I giggle as he grips my hips and pulls me to him.

"I didn't put on a full face of makeup just to stay home, Kennedy. But don't forget that idea for later." I pat his chest with a hand.

"I don't think forgetting will be an issue while you're wearing this, Acushla," he growls in my ear. "I feel underdressed now."

"You're definitely not. You look ridiculously sexy. In fact, if you wanted to wear this leather jacket all the time, I wouldn't complain," I tease.

I hadn't noticed what he was wearing until just now. His black leather jacket covered up a light blue shirt that looks like it's plastered to his toned body. It makes his eyes pop.

"Yeah? I'll wear it on the pitch then too?"

I cock my head to the side and purse my lips in mock consideration. "Maybe not while you're playing, but when we go out, I demand it."

"Your wish is my command," he chuckles as he presses a kiss to my forehead. "Shall we go?"

"We shall," I answer.

Eamon

"Norah, lass! It does my soul good to see you this fine evening!" Paddy exclaims, embracing her warmly. "You look lovely as ever."

"Thanks, Pat. I've missed you," Norah says, hugging him back.

He looks over his shoulder at me then. "Hello, lad! I wondered when I'd be seeing your ugly mug again. I've a list a mile long of things for you to do once you're on holiday break."

"‘Course you do," I say, rolling my eyes before pulling him in for a hug. "How ya gettin' on, Pat?"

"Ach, grand!" he says, practically dancing a jig. "My oldest boy is coming home for Christmas, and I couldn't be happier!"

"That's wonderful!" Norah tells him. "You'll have such a great time!"

"Aye, I will! Now, tell me, love, is our Eamon here taking good care of you? If not, you just let me know and I'll set him straight."

I roll my eyes again and pull Norah closer to me. As if I'd do anything but take care of her.

Norah giggles and says, "He's taking great care of me, Pat. Nothing to worry about there."

Pat nods his head knowingly but says no more, as Norah is suddenly whisked away by Charlie and Layla, leaving me feeling bereft in her absence. She's still in the same room as me, but I have the overwhelming urge to keep her tucked into my side all night. After witnessing her panic attack earlier and hearing the reason for it, I want her to feel safe.

He turns back to me, clapping a hand on my shoulder, and says, "She looks happier than I've ever seen her, that one. You must not be mucking things up too terribly, eh?"

I rub a hand over the back of my neck. "Ach, go on with you. Doing my best not to."

"Whatever you're doing, keep it up, boyo."

"She's amazing, Pat," I tell him as I look towards where she's chatting with her friends. I can't take my eyes off of her. She's laughing at something Layla said and my heart flip flops in my chest. "I love her."

"‘Course you do," he says. "It's clear as day. Have you told her as much?"

I nod. "Aye. And by some miracle, she loves me too."

When I don't get a response from Pat, I tear my eyes away from my girl and look at him. His eyes are pooling with tears, and he's grinning widely.

"What?" I demand.

"Ah, my boy. You've found your Ellie. Don't let her go."

"I don't intend to," I vow.

Norah

I just finished telling Charlie and Layla about the phone call with Detective Morrow and, remarkably, didn't fall apart again. Being surrounded by the most important people in my life bolstered my courage.

"Fourteen?" Charlie gasps in shock.

"That's what he said," I confirm. "It's heartbreaking."

"What are you going to do?" Layla asks.

"I'll do whatever they need. If it helps other victims and gets him put in prison, then I have to, right?"

"You're so brave, Norie. I hope you know we'll be with you throughout the whole thing," Charlie says, squeezing my hand.

"I know. I'd be lost without you both."

I take a drink of my beer and glance around the pub. "I know Amelia's working, but is Myra coming? Have any of you talked to her lately?"

Shrugging, Charlie says, "I asked her if she was coming out tonight, but she said she wasn't feeling well. I think she needs to see a doctor. She's been battling something for a while now."

I don't want to give away Myra's secret, so I say, "She's been working more than usual at the boutique, so maybe she's just really tired."

I glance at Layla to gauge her reaction, but she's thoroughly distracted. Teagan just walked into the pub with Ro. I watch as he clasps hands with Pat and pulls him in for a quick hug. His eyes start wandering around the room, obviously looking for someone. When his gaze settles on Layla, his entire face lights up. He's adorable.

"Alright, Lay. What's the tea on Teag?" Charlie demands.

Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks away, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. "What are you talking about? We're just friends."

"For now…" I mutter, elbowing her in the ribs.

Eamon, Teagan, and Ro are making their way over to the table, drinks in hand. Teagan, to absolutely no one's surprise, takes the seat next to Layla, slinging his arm over the back of her chair.

"Evenin'," he croons. "You're looking lovely, Layla."

"Thanks," she murmurs, face reddening even more.

Ro grabs a chair from a neighboring table, turns it around, and straddles it, arms propped up on the back. "Hello, ladies. What's the craic?"

We've spent enough time around the Irish trio to understand most of their colloquialisms by now that we know craic means "fun." Their accents, however, never grow old. Even the non-single ladies sit in rapt attention when they speak

We're sitting around chatting and drinking, the conversation never stalling. Mostly because Ro is a master storyteller. He's so animated that we're laughing and rolling our eyes the entire time he's talking. If a story isn't made up, he's embellished it so much that there's barely any truth left to it. He's in the middle of such a story when there's a loud commotion at the entrance of the pub. We all look up to see Mac and a few of the other players from the team stumble inside, clearly intoxicated. Mac is worse off than the others. Looking at Eamon, we exchange a silent conversation. Did Myra finally tell him about the baby? I grab my phone to send her a quick text to find out.

Norah: Hey, we're all at Paddy's, and Mac just came in completely trashed. More so than normal. Did you tell him?

Myra: OMG. Of course he is. Yes, I told him a few hours ago. He handled it about as well as I thought he would. Looks like this is how he's coping.

Norah: I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need me?

Myra: I'm okay. You stay. Amelia is coming over when she gets off work. Make sure he doesn't kill himself with alcohol poisoning. Idiot.

Norah: Will do. Let me know if you change your mind.

Norah: About coming over. Not letting him kill himself. ;)

Myra: LOL well… kidding. Kind of.

I angle the screen towards Eamon, who snorts at the last part.

"Should I bring him over here?" he asks.

I shrug, feeling at a complete loss. "I'm not sure. He needs some water or something."

"Ro," Eamon says, catching his friend's attention, "Go get that arsehole and have him come sit. Get him some water too, will ya? "

Ro looks at Eamon like he's grown an extra head. "Will I, yeah? It's not my fault he's in ribbons."

"Aye, true enough, but you're the only one he'll respond to without being a complete tool," Eamon answers.

Ro rolls his eyes but gets up anyway. We watch him saunter up to Mac and toss an arm over his shoulder. He says something that makes the blonde laugh while mouthing water to Paddy. After filling a couple of glasses, Ro leads Mac and the rest of the guys to our corner. Eamon and Teagan pull another table and some chairs over to connect them. When Mac collapses into the seat, he looks around suspiciously at us.

"Did you hear the news?" he slurs, looking pointedly at me. "I'm going to be—"

"Completely wrecked tomorrow?" Eamon interrupts him.

Mac pauses to glare at his teammate, then his eyes go wide. " You knew? Before me? Of fucking course you did. Not sure why I'm surprised when you're fucking one of her friends."

"Easy, Mac," Eamon warns. "You don't want to go there."

"What did I miss?" Ro pipes up, eyes alight with excitement at being in the middle of drama.

"You mean you don't know? I thought for sure all of you were in on it!" Mac bellows belligerently. "What you missed is that I knocked up Myra. Surprise! I'm going to be a dad!"

Charlie and Layla gasp loudly while Ro and Teagan sit there stunned, jaws dropped.

I cover my face with my hands. Myra is going to be livid.

"Mac," Eamon commands, getting his attention, "not the time or place, mate."

"Fuck off, Irish. It's my kid, I can tell the whole world if I want!"

Leaning forward, I stretch a hand across the table and place it on his forearm.

"Mac," I say softly, "I'm the only one Myra told. Eamon only knows because of me."

I'm vaguely aware of Charlie and Layla whipping their heads in my direction.

Mac narrows his eyes at me, then heaves a long sigh. "She hates me," he says, crestfallen.

I shake my head. "No, she doesn't hate you. She's scared. Aren't you?"

He drops his head into his hands, nodding, as he whispers, "I don't know what to do."

"Mate, the best thing you can do is sober up and sleep on it. Don't do anything until your head's clear," Eamon says compassionately.

"Yeah," he groans, "that's probably a good idea."

"I'll call you guys an Uber," Charlie offers. "You can't drive, and none of us are sober enough to drive you."

While we wait for Mac's ride, we make him drink more water and eat some fries to help soak up the alcohol. He doesn't say anything as he sits there, only nodding or shaking his head when someone asks him a question. I actually feel sorry for him. Becoming a parent isn't what he or Myra wants at this point in their lives, so it makes sense that they're terrified. He could have handled it better, but this is Mac we're talking about. I send Myra another text.

Norah: I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?

Myra: Shit. Give me the good news.

Norah: We have Mac sobering up and called him an Uber.

Myra: And the bad news…?

Norah: He announced to pretty much the entire pub that he knocked you up. *insert grimace here*

Myra: …he did not…

Norah: I wish I was lying.

Myra: Fucking fantastic. I'm going to kill him. Who all is there?

Norah : Eamon and me, Charlie, Layla, Teagan, Ro, and a few others from the team.

Myra: What else did he say?

I type out a shortened version of the incident, telling her I'm hopeful he'll have a better response once he's sober. Myra replies that she won't hold her breath but appreciates the sentiment. Once we have Mac and the others tucked safely into their Uber, I prepare for the onslaught of questions.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Charlie whines playfully. "How far along is she?"

"It wasn't my story to share," I say. "I think she's around four months now. Or at least getting close to it."

"She's always so safe. I can't believe it," Layla comments.

"Mac as a father. Now that's something I can't believe," Ro exclaims. "That wanker can't even take care of himself!"

Teagan barks out a laugh. "True enough. I hope Myra is prepared to raise the kid without him."

"You never know," Layla says, turning to him with a shrug. "Maybe he'll wake up tomorrow a new man."

"Also true, love." He winks and brushes her dark hair off of her shoulder. "I'll swing by and check in on him in the morning."

The smile she gives him is blinding. I wish I could take a picture of this moment. I'd label it as The Moment Layla Fell For Teagan.

"Text me after," she suggests. "I was thinking about going to Airlie Gardens. I might want some company."

Then she stands up, hugs Charlie and me goodbye, and leaves.

Teagan's gaze follows her all the way out of the pub. When he turns back to the table, all of us are watching with wide eyes.

"What?" he asks sheepishly.

"If you don't text her, you're an idiot," Charlie states with a shrug.

"Course I'm going to text her!" he says, lifting his beer to his lips. "I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"That was definitely out of her comfort zone," I tell him. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up. It's fun watching her come out of her shell."

Teagan grins in triumph. "Aye, I'm on a mission."