Chapter Thirty-Nine

Eamon

After Norah and I collapsed onto her bed in a sweaty heap, I wrapped my arms around her and we drifted off into a state of utter bliss. Obviously, I enjoy sex, but sex with Norah is like an out-of-body experience. Every time. She took me completely by surprise when she played along with her punishment. My fantasies don't usually include spanking, but when I saw her naked body bent over the bed, mixed with that sassy mouth of hers, the idea of leaving my handprint on her arse turned me on in a way I wasn't expecting.

A loud chiming brings me out of my slumber and Norah groans as she untangles herself from me. When she rolls over to snatch her phone from the bedside table, I roll with her, unwilling to break contact and hoping she doesn't answer so I can keep her in bed longer.

"Oh no," she whispers, her voice laced with worry.

I prop myself up on an elbow and pull her close, tucking my chin over her shoulder to glance at the screen. It's a number I don't recognize.

"Who is it, love?" I ask, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.

"I think it's the detective from back home," she mutters before answering and putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is Detective Morrow from the Ozark Police Department. Is this Norah Grady?" a man's voice says.

"Hello Detective," she answers. "Yes, this is Norah. What can I do for you?"

Her body begins trembling slightly, so I tighten my hold on her.

"I just wanted to let you know that we won't be requiring your testimony against Ashton Kirk. He was found deceased last night."

She sucks in a sharp breath. "Oh my god. I don't even know what to say to that. What…happened?"

"The investigation is still ongoing, but right now it looks like Mr. Kirk committed suicide," he says gravely.

"Wow…that's…," she starts. "I'm sorry. I should say that's awful, but I can't seem to find any remorse over this after what he did to me and all of those other women."

"Between you and me, Miss Grady, the world is a better place with one less rapist using up oxygen. That's off the record, of course. Do you have any questions for me?"

I've imagined more than once finding that piece of trash and beating the shite out of him, so I agree with Norah and the detective.

"No, Detective Morrow," she mutters. "Thank you so much for calling."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Grady. Take care now."

The call ends and Norah bursts into tears, sobs racking her shoulders. She cries so hard it feels like she's breaking. I can't do anything but hold her closer, murmuring words of comfort into her hair.

"Shhh, Acushla. It's okay. I've got you," I promise her.

She turns in my arms and buries her face against my chest. Eventually her sobs quiet to the occasional sniffle, but I continue to soothe her with words and gentle touches, rubbing my hand lightly up and down her spine. I hate feeling so helpless, but this isn't something I can just kiss away. It's not some dragon I can vanquish. But I can, I will, be by her side every step of the way as she processes and heals from this part of her life. It doesn't escape me how incredibly lucky I am to be the man she chose to move forward from this with. And soon she'll be my wife.

Norah lifts her head, looking at me with red-rimmed eyes, and says, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to turn into a sobbing mess."

I brush a strand of hair off of her brow. "You don't need to apologize for a thing. That was big news. I'm sure a lot is going on in that head of yours now. I'm here if you want to talk about it."

"I don't even really know how to feel or think," she says. "I always hate to hear that someone felt so lost they thought suicide was the only answer, but after everything…I just feel a huge sense of relief. Relief knowing that that chapter of my life is closed. Relief that I won't have to testify and see his face. Relief that he can't hurt anyone again. Does that make me a horrible person?"

"No, Acushla. You're not a horrible person," I assure her. "You're a victim of a horrible crime and, although not ideal, justice has been served."

Norah nods once then tucks her head under my chin. "I'm glad you were here, Eamon."

"Always. I'm not going anywhere."

Norah

"No. Absolutely no fecking way am I wearing that. Forget it, Grady," Teagan growls, tossing my sketchbook across the table at me.

"Don't be such a baby, O'Brien," I laugh at him. "Yours isn't even that bad! Ro's is the worst, and even that isn't horrible."

Teagan glowers at me over the rim of his pint glass. "Eamon, please talk some sense into your mot. Bets done while pissed don't count. "

"Sorry, mate. I tried to talk you both out of it." Eamon smirks.

"Besides," I say, pointing a finger at him. "If you had won, you know you wouldn't let Layla and me out of doing our cheer. It's not like you're performing on stage. You're just modeling the costumes for the actors."

"Oh, is that all?" he scoffs. "Just my arse exposed and in fucking high heels? I could break my ankle and never be able to play football again!"

I wince. "Okay, no high heels. Just the rest of it! And the makeup will mask your face, so no one will even really know it's you."

Eamon groans loudly, "Fuck, I forgot about the makeup. Teagan, you arsehole."

"Yeah, you arsehole," Ro agrees, sitting down next to Teagan. "Why are you an arsehole this time?"

Teagan grabs the sketch pad, flips a page, and slides it over to Ro. "This. This right here is what Eamon's fiance has created for you to wear. And somehow I'm the arsehole?"

Rowan studies the page, his eyes widening before looking up to glare at me. "You're joking. Right? This is all one big gag, isn't it?"

"Hey," I say, raising my hands in defense. "I told you I was going to make you a denim thong originally. Just be thankful I changed it to a pair of denim boy shorts instead."

Ro looks to Eamon with pleading eyes. "Kennedy, do something about this."

"I'm not excited about this either, but a bet's a bet," he says with a shrug.

Ro flips back a couple of pages to Eamon's sketch, which shows him in a black leather bodysuit, black combat boots, and dark makeup.

"Ach! No wonder you're not as pissed about that. Yours is actually decent! You're hardly showing anything!" Ro exclaims in outrage. "More like a sexy Batman!"

"Catman. See the ears?" Eamon corrects, pointing to the cat ear headband I've drawn on.

"Well, I can't have everyone staring at my fiance's half-naked body, now can I?" I tease. "Besides, he has the whole dark and mysterious thing going for him, so it fits."

"How much can I pay you to forget all about this?" Ro asks, reaching for his wallet.

"Not a dime, Gallagher," I say, tipping my glass in salute. "Suck it up."

Ro looks like he's about to rip me a new one when Alicia saunters up to the table with a pitcher of water. She stops beside him, looking amused.

"What are you bitching about now, Rowan?"

He whips his head in her direction and straightens in his chair. He's drinking her in, eyes roaming from the top of her midnight Dutch braid down to her red combat boots. She pretends not to notice, but her cheeks flush slightly.

"Hello there, love. Norah here is being unnecessarily cruel. Try to make her see some sense, would ya?"

Alicia just laughs. "Norie, cruel? How much have you had to drink?"

"Not a fecking thing! I only just got here!" he cries indignantly. "Look at this and tell me it's not cruel. The fire sprite expects me to wear this in front of people!"

He holds the drawing in front of her and a bubble of laughter escapes her. She tries to cover it with a cough, but it's not fooling anyone.

"What's the matter, Ro?" Alicia coos, placing a hand on his shoulder that has him stiffening in response. "I thought you were confident with your body? This seems right up your alley."

He stares at her in disbelief for a moment before blurting out, "What the feck is that supposed to mean? Aye, I may know that my body is in pristine condition, but that doesn't mean I want to go flaunting it in front of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the entire drama department!"

"Welcome to the world of women, where we're expected to look a certain way and dress accordingly to please the male species," Alicia says with an eye-roll. "But God forbid something happens to us in those clothes. Then it's clearly our fault for dressing provocatively."

The table goes silent, everyone's eyes widening.

"Sorry," she mumbles. "Sensitive subject. Anyway. The point is, don't be such a baby. Embrace the opportunity and give it your all like you do on the pitch. "

Spinning on her heel, she stalks back to the bar. Layla and I share a look and rise from the table in pursuit of Alicia. We find her drying glasses behind the bar, staring pointedly at the floor.

"Hey," Layla says, getting her attention. "Is everything okay, Li?"

She looks up, quickly quelling the tears threatening to escape. "Yeah, I'm good. It's just been a long day."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask softly. If anyone can understand what it's like to be objectified and taken advantage of by a man, it's me.

"Nah," she says, picking up another glass. "Really, I'm okay. Thanks for checking though."

"Okay, but if you change your mind, you know we're here for you, right?" Layla reminds her.

"Yeah, I know. Love you girls," she says, then grins devilishly. "Now, tell me what else I can do to torment Ro."

I chuckle at the gleam in her eyes. "I think challenging him to own it like he does while he plays will go a long way. If he thinks it's something he can win at, I bet he'll jump in full force."

Alicia smiles and then casts a glance over my shoulder. "Incoming…" she warns.

The Irishman in question sidles up next to me, resting his corded forearms on the bar. Glancing at me and Layla, he says, "Eamon and Teagan are asking for ya, ladies."

Taking the hint, we wave at Alicia and head back to the table. Eamon pulls me down next to him, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Everything okay?" he mutters.

"She says she's fine, but I don't buy it. I'm going to try to catch her alone and see if she'll open up."

"She looked like she was about to cry," Layla interjects.

"Shite," Teagan breathes. "She's one of the toughest lasses I know. Something big must have happened if she was that upset. Here's hoping Gallagher can get her to spill."

"Only if she wants to," I say pointedly. "Whatever is going on, she doesn't seem comfortable sharing it. And if it has anything to do with her outburst, I can understand that. I just hope I'm wrong."

"Fuck, if something happened to her, Ro will commit murder," Eamon says.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, each of us pondering what could have possibly happened to rile our favorite bartender. My phone buzzes on the table, pulling us from our thoughts.

Myra: Hey, we're going to skip out tonight. My feet are swollen and killing me. The idea of walking even across the room, let alone putting on shoes, makes me want to cry. And Mac has offered to rub my feet. ;)

Norah: You can't really turn that down. You'll be missed, but I understand. Hope you're able to get some rest. Tell that baby Auntie Norie loves her!

Myra: Will do! xoxo

"Myra and Mac aren't coming tonight. She has some swelling and wants to take it easy," I tell everyone.

"I still can't believe they're having a baby. And happy together ," Layla says in mock astonishment.

"Aye," Teagan agrees as he toys with the braid hanging over Layla's shoulder. "It's scary how much Mac has changed. He's almost tolerable now."

"Almost," Eamon says with a grimace. "I still think he's a wanker."

"Stop it," I chastise, playfully smacking his chest with the back of my hand.

He catches it and brings my knuckles to his lips. "Sorry love. He'll never be my favorite person. Not after all the things he said about you."

I roll my eyes at him. "Eamon, that ship has sailed. I'm over it, so should you be."

"Not until he officially apologizes to you," Eamon says decidedly. "Even if he was just joking, it's not okay to talk about any woman that way."

"He's right," Teagan agrees. "He has a daughter on the way, so the sooner he learns to control that mouth of his, the better."

We all hum in agreement.