“I’m not sure how I feel about it, but if you think it’ll work—” She shrugs. “Let’s try.”
“Perfect.”
We keep walking, hand in hand, and if she’s aware of the violence I’m planning, she doesn’t seem to mind.
Chapter 20
Daley
Turns out, finding Quinn isn’t easy.
We get back to the train station and hop into Rian’s truck. Delco is quiet as we roll through the streets, hitting a few of the more popular clan spots. A couple of bars, restaurants, and delis later, and we still haven’t found Quinn, although we did get some pretty decent hoagies and a couple of Cokes. Rian parks half a block away from a four-way intersection in Media right across from a playground.
The houses here are all gorgeous. Big peaked roofs, wraparound porches, white siding, dark shutters. Media is one of the nicer neighborhoods in Delco, and it’s gorgeous on a comfortable summer evening. Rian cracks open a Coke and hands it to me as we eat.
“You sure he’ll be here?” I ask, taking a sip as he opens a drink for himself.
“This is his corner.”
“Hard to believe they sell drugs right in the middle of freaking Media.”
“I know what you mean, but it’s Delco. This place looks nice on the outside, like every other Philly suburb, but it’s the shit beneath the surface you got to worry about.”
“As I’m well aware.” I sigh and sip my cold Coke. My throat’s dry from anxiety, and I feel like I can’t stop sweating. “I never asked, but what did my dad have you doing for the clan before you took on being my bodyguard?”
He’s quiet as he takes a sip of his drink and stares out the windshield. “You sure you want to know?”
“Yeah, come on. Tell me.”
“I was an enforcer. I tracked guys down that owed the bookies and broke their knees until they coughed up whatever cash they had. It wasn’t a fun job.”
I let out a little breath. “Seriously? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised after what you did to those assholes at the barn.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It was the best I could get when I first started. I was lucky that your family let me in at all back then and even luckier they kept the cops from pressing drunk-driving charges. Your father’s captains trained me, taught me how to fight, and sent me out to break knees and crack skulls. I did that for years and got the scars to prove it.” He lifts up his shirt and shows me a puckered horizontal wound across his stomach, just over his shredded abs.
“Is that a knife?”
He lets his shirt drop. “I’ve been stabbed three times, shot twice, beaten too many times to count. Bloody noses, broken bones, black eyes, contusions, sprains, whatever. I’ve bled for this family.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody else is going to find out what happened if I don’t, and I need access.”
“For eight years, you’ve been putting your life in danger, all because of what happened with Megan?”
He nods slowly, still not looking at me. “And because of what you said to me that day in the hospital.”
That smacks me in the face like a hammer. I blink at him rapidly, trying to digest the idea that I had anything to do with how his life turned out. He glances at me sideways, frowning, and lets out a long breath.
“I don’t mean to lay that on you,” he says softly, almost apologetically. “It’s just the truth. When you called me a liar back in the hospital, I knew that if you couldn’t believe me, nobody would. It broke something in me and made me realize that no matter how I thought my life was up until that point, everything would be different. I knew I’d never have my old world back unless I proved to everyone that I’m innocent. And I knew I’d never have you again unless I went through hell for it.”
“Rian,” I say quietly, swallowing against the stone in my throat. The idea that he’s been wanting me all this time is like a shard of glass in my heart.
“You don’t need to say anything about it. That was eight years ago. I was a different guy when I made all those choices. But it’s the truth. I put myself through all this shit. I got shot and stabbed, all because I wanted you back, Daley, or at least to prove to you that I’m not a liar.”
The thought is like my own wound. I feel like my chest is cracking open and tears burst into my eyes. I blink them back, shaking my head. “Why didn’t you ever try and talk to me?”
“Remember how you reacted when I came back into your life? That’s why. I knew you’d never want to see me.”
I sob once, half crying and half laughing. He grins at me, but the sadness in his gaze is like hands wrapped around my throat. He reaches out and gently touches my thigh, trying to be comforting, which only makes it worse. He suffered because of me, and now he wants to try to take some of my pain away? I should be trying to make things right with him.