Page 17 of Finn

“I’ll pay you back.”

“How?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

I wiped under my eyes, unable to believe what he’d said. Finn’s words over the years came back to me. He hated how I coddled Brian. Always took his side. Defended him. Cared for him. “He’ll drain you dry,” he once informed me.

And he was right. My own brother had stolen from me. My entire life savings. And I had a feeling he didn’t really care.

“I want you out,” I said, straightening my shoulders.

“Oh, come on, Una. I’ll get your money. You can’t throw me out. Where will I go?”

“I don’t care. Not here. And you will pay me back.” I threw out the only threat I had. “Or I’ll tell Finn you stole from me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Finn’s right. I’ve been your mother too long, Brian. It’s time for you to stand on your own two feet. You have a car. And thanks to Finn, a job. Go and act like an adult. Get your own place. Move in with one of the crew you like to hang with. I don’t care.”

“Right now? You’re kicking me out right now when I can barely walk?”

“You will leave in the morning.”

“You’re being a bitch, you know that, right?” he snarled. “Dad would be so ashamed of you.”

“No, Dad would be ashamed of you. He was a man of honor. He would understand why I have to do this.”

“Would he understand you’re taking Finn’s side over mine? Your brother? He always said family first.”

I refused to let him know how his words hurt and how torn I was feeling. “You reap what you sow, Brian.”

He glared and stepped closer, wrapping his hands around my arms. He squeezed, his fingers digging into my skin. His eyes were dark and furious, his mouth curled into a sneer. My brother was gone, and in his place was the cold soldier he enjoyed being.

“Brian Joseph Murphy!” I snapped. “You’re hurting me. Stop it now!”

He let go, and I stumbled back. Never once in my life had he hurt me physically. My dad didn’t believe in hitting women, and he’d drummed that into Brian’s head.

When had that changed?

I turned and headed to the door, my voice shaking. “You’re gone in the morning.”

* * *

He left before eight, the slamming of the door echoing behind him. He tore his room apart, leaving a mess behind him, acting like a petulant child. He had lots of names for me, cursing and constantly muttering between his groans. I was tense until he left, unsure if he would try to hurt me again. I rushed to the door and locked it behind him, engaging the dead bolt, then let out a shaky breath as I leaned my head on the wood.

I’d barely slept all night, upset and worried. More than once, I reached for my phone to call Finn, but I stopped myself. Brian was on his phone, hitting up his mates for a place to stay, no doubt calling me more names as he spoke.

He’d barely looked at me as he left, tossing his key to the table.

“Thanks for nothing,” he’d muttered.

I slumped in my chair, my cup of tea growing cold on the table beside me. I rested my head in my hand, feeling weary and emotional. Drained. More than once, I glanced at my runners, thinking I needed to go and pound the pavement for a while. It always helped clear my head. But I was too tired to bother.

Memories of Brian when we were young played in my head. Before Mum died, even with what Dad did as a job, we were just a normal family. Brian doted on me. Everyone did. I was the baby. He was my big brother, and I adored him. When Mum died, it changed somehow, and he acted younger than I was. Less caring. More dependent. And I allowed it, needing to channel my grief into some other place. I did it by caring for him and Dad.

I spent the day wandering my apartment, straightening the guest room, doing laundry. I wasn’t hungry, but I had some tea and crackers midafternoon, knowing I had to go to the hotel and sing that night. Normally, Fridays and Saturdays were my happy days. I got to perform. Let my voice loose and enjoy. But today, I was finding no joy, only obligation.

But as they said, the show must go on. I showered and dressed casually, walking to the subway and sitting in the back row, the car mercifully empty for this time of day. As the stops rolled past, I recalled meeting with Finn for dinner after my father’s funeral, his offer.