“Phoenix, what the hell are you doing?” I cried, “Stop it!”

Patrick climbed to his feet again, only to be punched a second time, splitting his lip so badly that blood poured down his face. He didn’t retaliate or try to defend himself in any way. He just stood there, silent, as my kindhearted son continued to hit him over and over again.

Sometimes Patrick was knocked to the ground, but every single time he did, he stood back up again.

No one was stopping them, and the only sound that could be heard in the cavernous room was the disgusting sound of flesh connecting brutally with flesh.

Until, finally, blessedly, Patrick didn’t get up off his knees.

“I trusted you,” Nix spit out finally, holding his hand over the surgery scar on his belly. “I fucking wanted her with you, and I couldn’t understand why she kept you at a distance. I continued to talk to you even though I knew it bothered her… I thought she was being unreasonable!”

“Stop, son,” I said, stepping forward to rest my hand on his arm.

He shrugged me off, breaking my heart, and I turned my gaze to Patrick.

I’d never seen him look so defeated.

“I know I failed ye,” he said, his nostrils flaring as he tried not to cry. “Me sins are great, and I’ll burn for dem. But if ye never believe anyt’in’ else, know dat I loved ye more den anyt’in’. Ye were me sanctuary. Me solace in a world gone mad. I’d endure a thousand deat’s to go back and ensure ye did not feel one moment of pain.”

I was too busy staring into his shattered eyes to notice the movement before it was too late. By the time I realized what was happening, he’d already handed a large blade handle first to Nix.

“I’ll not stop ye,” he whispered brokenly to Nix, while I watched in horror. “From ear to ear, son. It’s easier den ye’d t’ink.”

Nix took the blade from Patrick’s hand as men rushed toward us, but before I could blink or the men could reach us, his arm was moving.

***

“Did you know he wouldn’t do it?” I said quietly, standing in Patrick’s room with my arms crossed over my chest.

“I prayed he would.”

“He was out of control—I’ve never seen my son that way before. Why would you do that?”

“Takin’ de easy way out, I suppose,” Patrick answered as he finally met my eyes. “De guilt is worse den dyin’.”

The moment Patrick’s blade had stuck in the wall behind the bar with a thud, men had converged on where we were standing. Grease had led Nix away while I stood frozen, watching as Slider slid his shoulder underneath Patrick’s arm and pulled him to his feet. I wasn’t sure why I let Doc gently lead me into Patrick’s room, but my feet instinctively carried me toward the shell of the man I loved without protest.

“I’ve not been de best man,” he whispered, his accent, as usual, so much more pronounced in his grief. “I’ve done t’ings dat I’ll burn for, killed men for no reason udder den to follow de task I’d been given, but nuttin’ in me life has felt as wrong as leavin’ ye in Ireland. I knew it before I went, and I was too young and too stupid to follow me instinct to stay wit’ ye.”

“You couldn’t have known—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered brokenly. “I told ye I’d protect ye and I didn’t. I’m so sorry, me love. So sorry.”

“I didn’t understand how you could have left me,” I whispered back, tears beginning to fall down my face. “I was so devastated.”

The sound that came out of his throat then was the most painful wail I’d ever heard. It didn’t last long, only a second, but the sound seemed to echo in the room.

“It was me fault, all of it,” Patrick choked, sliding onto his knees on the floor. “And den I—and den I blamed ye. God forgive me, I blamed ye.”

I watched him as he tried to hold back his sobs, lost in my own misery, until I heard voices outside the door.

“You’re not going in there,” Slider said.

“That’s my mum.” Oh, shit. Nix was out there. I turned my head toward the door.

“And she’s with her man, it’s none of your concern.”

“He’s not her man. He’s just some prick that left her to be brutalized and then continued to torture her with it for thirty fuckin’ years. She came here to serve him divorce papers, for fuck’s sake.”

“She could have mailed those fuckin’ papers,” Slider retorted, his tone indicating he was losing patience. “Boy, you don’t want to try me. I’ll fuckin’ lay ya out before ya know what’s happenin’.”

“Ye better go wit’ yer boy,” Patrick said quietly, his voice ragged.

I turned back to face him, and I was drawn into the eyes I’d loved for most of my life. I was certain in that moment that he was prepared to do exactly what I’d asked of him. He was letting me go.

“I don’t know how.”

“To do what, me love?” he asked gently.

“I don’t know how to not love you.”

“Lovin’ me doesn’t mean ye forgive me, and I don’t deserve yer forgiveness.”

I lowered myself to the floor until we were facing each other, and drew in a shuddering breath. “I know that it wasn’t your fault, but God, Patrick, you weren’t blameless, either. But all these years, I knew what happened and you didn’t. You got to move blissfully along with your life, making a family with Moira and raising your daughter… and I was just stuck. I resented you so much for that, for leaving me and spending your life with the woman who was the reason I was ruined.”