Chasing River (Burying Water #3)(94)

“I’m not negotiating.”

“Neither am I.”

“Look . . .” He stops and sighs. “Even though she lied to me, and I’m well within my rights to charge Miss Welles, I’m not in the practice of punishing people who don’t truly deserve it.”

“You were already going to let her go?”

“I believe that the information she provided at the site, the day of the bombing, was truthful. Her only real mistake after that was falling in love with the likes of a Delaney.”

I sigh with relief, his words filling my chest with warmth.

“So? Do we have a deal?”

“We do. But go and talk to Aengus first. I’ll be more than happy to wait here and give my statement about the Green when you come back, if it’s still necessary.”

After a moment, he collects his notepad and stands. “I’m glad to say that I was wrong about you, River.”

“Likewise.” I guess maybe Duffy’s not so bad, after all. His hand is on the door handle to leave when I remember. “I have an extortion case for you to look into, too. One of Jimmy’s guys is involved.” Let’s see if Duffy can get them off of Francis O’Reilly’s back.

He frowns. “You’re just offering this information to me for nothing? Or is there something you want in return?”

“Let’s just say I don’t like seeing undeserving people punished either.”

THIRTY-TWO

Amber

Duffy holds the door open. And simply stands there.

I stare at him.

“You’re free to go.”

Is this a trick? I admitted to lying to him. I’ve been sitting in this room for hours, waiting for him to march in and tell me what’s going to happen next to me, to River.

When I don’t move right away, he adds, “Unless you prefer these accommodations to your other?”

My chair nearly topples, as quickly as I stand. “What about River?” Does he know that I told Duffy everything? Does he understand why?

Does he hate me now?

A secretive smile curls Duffy’s lips. He finds that amusing somehow. I’m suddenly overcome with the urge to slap him.

“Relax, Amber.” He points down the hallway and I peer past him, along the narrow corridor, to where River leans against the wall, his head tipped back as if resting. No handcuffs, no garda hovering.

What does that mean?

Duffy must see the confusion in my face. “I finally found something important enough to bend that stubborn Irish will of his.”

Something important enough . . .

Me?

He chuckles softly. “Go on, now.”

I don’t wait another second. I tear down the hall and into River’s waiting arms.

“We can still stay at your house tonight, if you’d rather be close to your parents.” I flick the hallway light on. It feels like I haven’t stepped inside here in weeks, even though I left for Cork just yesterday.

River drops the duffel bag of clothes he packed on the floor—he refused to let me carry it in—and struggles to kick his shoes off, his limp worse than it was earlier today. “Who knows what time they’ll be back from the hospital. Besides, Ma would take issue with where you sleep.”

“I don’t mind sleeping on my own.”

“I do.” His chuckle is so weak. “I need my nurse in bed with me.”

I smile, giving his back a rub. I haven’t stopped touching him in some way since we left the garda station. “I’ll be upstairs in just a minute.”

He eases up the steps with great care. I still don’t know what happened with Duffy. I asked but he shrugged it off, saying, “Later.” I don’t know what that means and, while I know he needs his rest, I need assurances that this is all going to work out for River. The only thing I do know is that he doesn’t seem angry with me at all.

Opening his bottle of prescription painkillers, I fill a glass of water, throw together a few ham and cheese sandwiches—neither of us have eaten all day—and make my way upstairs to my bedroom.

River’s already undressed and stretched out in bed. Gauze covers the phoenix over his chest. I didn’t know he had an injury there as well. “Thank Christ. I’m starved,” he mumbles, reaching for a sandwich.

“Does it still hurt?” I pull back the sheet to find more gauze bandaging wrapped around his left thigh.

He grunts in response, his mouth full.

I slide my hand over the curves of his healthy leg in a soothing manner. Such strong, thick muscles.

Rowen’s leg was just as sturdy.

“What’s going to happen now? With Aengus?” I watch him chew slowly, and I’m not sure if it’s a deliberate tactic to stall.

“He confessed,” he finally admits through a mouthful, his eyes downcast.

My jaw drops. “What? How? I mean . . .” I hadn’t expected that answer. “What made him do it?”

Swallowing, he tosses the last bit of crust onto the plate and washes it down with water, chasing it with the pills I set out for him. “He didn’t have much choice. Either he confessed to Duffy or I’d testify against him in court as an eyewitness.”

“You said that you’d never do that.”

“I know.” He toys with the compass charm that dangles from my bracelet. “I never thought I would. But after what he’s put my ma and da, and Rowen, through . . .” His fingers lace through mine. “Protecting him was going to further harm my family. Harm you. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened and I could have done something to stop it. As it is, none of this would have happened if I’d spoken up sooner.” His Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and a sheen suddenly coats his eyes. “I’m already not sure how I’m going to forgive myself for that.”