The Aftermath (The Hurricane, #2)(17)

“You’re not supposed to swear in church,” I answered softly.

“I drop a quid in the collection box for every time I swear. Me and God have an agreement about it,” Kieran replied. I chuckled because I was pretty sure he was serious.

“How did you know where I was?” I asked him.

“After Em’s kidnapping I figured that this was probably your bolt-hole for when things go to shit.” He waited patiently for me to get my shit together and talk to him.

“How’s Earnshaw?” I asked, scared now to know the answer.

“He’s gonna have a headache tomorrow, but he’s fine. You knocked him old cold but he came round a few minutes after you left.”

“Em still pissed at me?” I asked with my head in my hands.

“She loves you, Con. Of course she’s still pissed at you.”

“I f*cked up big didn’t I?” I asked him.

“It was a f*ck up of epic proportions. Seriously, I think this might be it for the both of you. Don’t sweat it. Romeo and Juliet weren’t meant to be either.”

“You’re an arsehole,” I told him, “and you’re enjoying this.”

“I’m not the one who knocked out his manager and yelled at his wife. I’m pretty sure the arsehole of the year trophy belongs to you. And, yes, I’m enjoying this immensely. You making Em curse was entertainment value enough.”

“What am I going to do?” I asked him.

Surprising the f*ck out of me, he answered me seriously.

“Think about what she said. This shit with Frank has been f*cking with your head since Em was kidnapped. You need to talk to her about it. Get it off your chest and tell her everything. Stop acting like a hard arse and let her in. You’re gonna lose her if you don’t.”

I nodded, as I thought about what he said.

“Do you think I should crash at yours tonight? Give her some space and speak to her in the morning?”

He laughed in my face. “I know f*ck all about marriage, Con, but common f*cking sense tells me that you not going home to her tonight is the worst idea ever. Man up and go make nice with your wife. And whenever the urge strikes you to argue back with her, bite your f*cking tongue. Unless you’re saying sorry or I love you, you’re basically just ringing the bell for round two.

*



Everything I meant to say went straight out of my head when I walked through the door.

“Arsehole,” was the first thing Em said as she smacked me on the chest, then surprising the f*ck out of me, threw her arms around me.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so f*cking sorry,” I blurted out, as I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as tightly to me as I could.

“What’s going on, O’Connell?” she mumbled into my chest.

I took a deep breath, knowing that she needed to know where my head was at. But it went against the grain to do anything but protect her and make her feel safe.

“I’m scared, Em,” I told her.

“Of what?” she asked.

“Of losing you. I promised I’d protect you and I couldn’t have f*cked that up more royally if I tried. Now I’m doing it again. Frank’s finding ways to get to you that I can’t stop. I’m pissed off and frustrated and I’m hurting anyone in my line of fire because I can’t hurt Frank.”

Bone-wearily tired I sat down on the sofa and pulled Em to sit down in my lap. If she forgave me enough to hold me, then I wasn’t letting her go.

“Why the f*ck didn’t you just talk to me about it,” she said.

“I think you’ve sworn more today than any day since I met you,” I answered.

“Stop changing the subject,” she replied.

“Because husbands are supposed to protect their wives. It’s my job to deal with my shit, not drag you down with me,” I said.

“I didn’t marry you for protection. I married you because I love you. If there’s stuff worrying you, then I’m the one you talk to about it. Because this marriage isn’t going to work if you try and keep me in the dark about important stuff. I get that you want to take care of me, I really do. But don’t you think it worries me more to see you go off the deep end like this?”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, but I really did mean it. There weren’t enough apologies in the world for the way I’d been acting.

“Don’t be sorry, O’Connell. Do something about it. You promised me once that you’d be a better man. Well then be one. You can’t solve every problem with your fist. This shit has to end now or you’re going to end up in prison one day, and I really do not want to be visiting there.”

“And if Frank gets to you again?” I asked her.

“Then I’ll fight him off again and stay alive until you rescue me. I’ve lived my life in fear once before, O’Connell. I won’t do it again. You can’t worry about everything. Just take things a day at a time, and what will be will be. And when you get angry, hit punch bags, not people,” she ordered me.

“I can do that,” I agreed. I was so relieved that she hadn’t just up and left me after knocking Earnshaw out that I’m pretty sure I would have agreed to anything. In all honesty, it felt like a weight had been lifted off me just by sharing with her.