“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.
I’m not the only one you need to apologize to either,” she reminded me.
“I know, Sunshine,” I agreed, as I rested my forehead against hers. “I’m just really not looking forward to it.”
*
The next day, I sat at the bar of the Royal Oak sipping my orange juice and lemonade. The barman had sniggered when I’d ordered it until I gave him the death stare. I was trying to be a better man but that didn’t mean I still couldn’t fuck with people from time to time. Any man who mocked another for drinking a non-alcoholic drink deserved to be fucked with anyway. Earnshaw sat down on the stool next to me sporting a killer black eye and looking like someone had stolen the jam out of his doughnut.
“A pint of lager please,” he mumbled to the barman.
He nodded and we sat in silence as the barman poured him his drink. He reached for his wallet until I held my hand up.
“I’ve got this,” I told him, sliding a fiver across the bar. “Do you regret coming to London?” I asked.
“I don’t regret following my sister. She needed me even if she didn’t know it. But yeah, I’m kind of regretting taking a job with Danny,” Earnshaw told me miserably, still not looking at me.
“Danny’s the best. I know he comes over as a bit of a hard arse but what he doesn’t know about boxing ain’t worth knowing,” I told him.
“It’s not Danny that I regret working with. You’re a lot more of a dick than I thought you’d be.” Fair play to the man, he had a pair of balls on him. I’d knocked him into the middle of next week, and here he sat calling me a dick to my face. Oddly, it made me like him a little bit more.
“Yeah, well, I’m genetically predisposed to be a dick. You’ll learn to get used to it,” I told him, which was pretty much my version of an apology.
“I’m not sure there’s any point in sticking around to find out,” he admitted. “I’ll be honest, when I came here I had a real dream about what I wanted to achieve. Emily’s Jerry Maguire call wasn’t that far off the mark. I wanted to be part of something special. When I met Danny and found out he was looking for the same thing, I figured this was my opportunity. You resenting my help didn’t factor into my plans.”
Earnshaw took a sip of his pint while I thought about what I was going to say. Letting him in and trusting him wasn’t going to be easy but he had a right to it. Hell, after the stunt I pulled, he could have gone to the police and probably had me charged with assault. At this point, I don’t even think he’d told Danny what had gone down.
“Do you know what happened to Em?” I asked him.
“No,” he replied and turned sharply to look at me.
“Before we met she lived with her mum and stepfather. He beat her pretty much daily. She came to university to study for her mathematics degree and changed her name but he found her. We were already married when he kidnapped and tortured her. In a few weeks, he’s up for trial. He did all that to my wife, and I’ve never laid a finger on him. The day I acted like a fucking imbecile was the day he’d written to her from prison. It made me a little crazy, and I took it out on you.” I left out the fact that she’d been raped. My baby girl wouldn’t want him knowing that. But his face was ashen anyway.
“Shit, man. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”