Off Course (Off 4)

"She's called, emailed, texted... said you're not responding to her. That's not fair to her."

Guilt overwhelms me. I've been avoiding Cady like the plague, because I'm afraid that the barest contact I have with her will cause my resolve to weaken and I'll ask about Cillian. Which, of course, she'll tell me anything I want to know.

And I'm terrified to even hear the slightest bit of news about him. I'm terrified she'll tell me he's moved on, that he's forgotten all about me, that he and Maeve are a couple, that they're getting married and going to have lots of babies. My mind runs amok at the possibility of all the heinous things she may tell me that I'm just not ready to hear.

"I'll call her... soon." I can't help the fact that my words sound hollow.

Flynn just looks at me, his face serious and intent. I hold a staring contest with him, to see who will blink and look away first. His eyes are warm and sympathetic, his mouth turned down slightly at the corners. He has a knowing look on his face.

A really, really knowing look.

"Oh, God... she told you about him, didn't she?"

"Yes, but only after I relentlessly hammered her to get the information. She eventually caved when I told her I was worried sick about you and didn't know how to help you. Why didn't you tell me? Or at least Mom?"

My shoulders sag. "I don't know... it's too painful I guess. I want to forget about him."

"Cillian?"

I nod.

"Look... I don't pretend to know everything and I'm sure Cady gave me an abbreviated version, but if you want to talk about it...you know I'll listen. Hell, I'll even lend one of my strong and manly shoulders for you to cry on if you want."

My heart melts over his words. Flynn has always been a tough man, but he has a heart of gold. I've cried on his shoulder more than once.

"Thanks, Flynn," I say, drawing in a shaky breath. "But I really don't know what there is to talk about. I loved him... no, I love him. I think I always will. But things got in the way and he didn't love me back."

That's the first time I've uttered those words, either out loud or even in my head. That Cillian didn't love me, and saying them out loud brings a level of truthfulness to the situation that paints a stark and barren picture for me.

Oh, God. Cillian didn't love me.

He cared for me...of that, I'm sure. But it was never, ever enough for him to choose me. I was never important enough to him.

Despair wells up in me. I look at Flynn and his eyes are swimming in love for me, and I know he can feel the pain pouring off me. He does nothing more than open his arms and I walk in them. I lay my head on his chest while he carefully wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight.

I let the tears fall, barely staining my cheeks before they seep into his shirt. I miss Cillan at this point, like I've never missed him before. But every tear that falls, I remember that he's probably not missing me. For every drop of wetness that Flynn absorbs, I remember that what we had wasn't strong enough. For every wet sorrow that escapes me, my heart starts to accept that it's truly over.

I realize, with finality, I need to get this out of my system, and move on.

So I go ahead and cry, because Flynn is offering me a safe environment to do it in. He whispers words of comfort as my tears pour, promising me that it will get better with time.

It takes me several minutes for the flow to stop, and when they do, I pull away.

"Feel better?" he asks.

"Not really," I tell him as I grab a paper towel and blow my nose. "But I will be. I know I will be."

"That's my girl. Want to go out and get a beer or something?"

Smiling I say, "Sure. Just let me go throw some makeup on to get rid of my red and blotchy skin."

He smiles back and tweaks me on the chin. "Okay, but shake a leg. And wings... I want to get some wings. I'm starving."

CHAPTER 26

Cillian

I knock on the door sharply and then take a few steps back, jamming my hands in the pockets of my jeans. The heat and humidity here in New Jersey is brutal and I'm already sweating up a storm. Part of it is nerves, I'm sure. I check the number beside the door, just to make sure I'm at the correct address that Cady gave me.

Hoping to God it's Renner that answers the door, I wait. I'm not ready to deal with her parents or, even worse yet, her brother or cousins. I just need to see Renner so I can try to fix what got broken between us.

I knock again and wait. I don't hear anything from the inside so maybe she's not here. In fact, I'm not even sure Renner is living here. When I asked for Cady's help in finding her, she sort of brushed me off, but eventually relented and gave me her parents' address.

There were a few things I had to take care of before I could leave Dublin, but now I don't have anything on my plate for the foreseeable future except for getting Renner back.

No matter how long that takes.

I decide to forego knocking for a third time and step off the porch, heading back to my rental car. I suppose I'll have to get a hotel nearby and try again later. I sigh, thinking of having to navigate the roads around here. This is my second time in the States, the first being just a year ago when we did a partial tour on the West coast. I was lucky enough then not to have to drive and I was sweating bullets on the trip from the Newark airport out to Renner's house. I hate that you have to drive on the right side of the road here. It hurts my head having to pay such close attention to what I'm doing.

Just as I'm about to open the car door, I hear, "Can I help you?"

Turning around, I have to shade my eyes from the late afternoon sun to see who is talking to me. It's a guy, about my age, maybe a little older. He's just a tad bit taller than me with a friendly smile on his face. He's walking around from the side of the house, holding onto a grease rag that he's using to wipe his hands. If I had to guess, I'm sure I'm getting ready to meet Flynn Caldwell...or maybe it's Nix. I'm pretty sure it's not Linc since he lives in Phoenix.

"I'm looking for Renner," I say.

The minute he hears my accent, the smile vanishes off his face and it's clear he knows who I am. "She's not here."

"Any idea when she'll be back?" I try to keep my voice as pleasant as possible, because I can tell from his body language and tone of voice that he doesn't like me. But if he doesn't tell me what I need to know, I'm not above pounding it out of him.

"She doesn't live her."

"Well, can you tell me where she lives then?"

"Sorry... I'm not about

to hand that over to a perfect stranger."

"My name is--"

"Save it. I know who you are. Still a perfect stranger to me. Now get the fuck off my parents' property." This last bit is said with such menace, there's a very good chance we may throw down right here in the front yard.

Just to piss him off, I casually close the car door and lean back against it. Folding my arms across my chest, I peruse him up and down. "You're Flynn, right? Renner told me all about you." The way I say it is not flattering at all, and in fact makes it sound like I know some deep and dirty secret he may be hiding. Which I don't. But I'm all of a sudden not in the mood to play nice.

His eyebrows raise and his eyes glitter with heat. He takes a few steps toward me, wiping the last bit of grease from his fingers. Dropping the rag to the ground, he takes his index finger and pushes it into the middle of my chest. Not hard, but not soft... just enough so he can make his point. "I'm only going to say this once. Get your ass back on a plane and get back across the Pond. You're wasting your time. I'm not about to let my baby sister have to deal with you, not after she cried her eyes out in my arms the other day."

He removes his finger and turns away from me, walking toward the back of the house. I call out to him.

"Hey, Flynn." He stops but doesn't turn around. "She's cried in my arms, too. Don't you think that says something?"

I can see him take a deep breath, his head bowed down. He turns slightly to look at me. "Meet me at Joe's Tavern in an hour."

Now that's a surprise.

It's not an immediate acquisition of Renner's address, but at least it's something. It appears he's going to make me jump through some hoops first.

"I don't know where that is," I say.

He gives me an evil smile. "You look like a bright boy... I'm sure you can figure it out." Then he turns his back on me and walks away.

Fucker.

Pulling out my phone, I Google Joe's Tavern and figure out how to get there. I see it's not too far away and decide to go hunt down a hotel while I have some time. I have a feeling this isn't going to go as fast as I'd hoped.

***

Joe's Tavern is pretty disgusting, but of course, I'm comparing it to the splendor of The Hibernian. The floor is a dull, gray concrete and the bar itself is made of faux-wood Formica that's chipped on the edges. The barstools have holes in the fake leather covering with stuffing spilling out. My shoes stick to the floor when I walk in.