Page 19 of Colin (The Doherty Mafia)
I was in close contact with a member of the Doherty family. I’d spent the night with him. In fact, I was now married to him. Technically, some would argue I was a part of the Doherty family myself.
These assholes had no idea the kind of information I could potentially be sitting on.
But I said nothing.
Instead, I picked up a notebook and ripped out a sheet of paper to take down their orders.
Being accidentally married to Colin Doherty was powerful and I would have to use it accordingly.
I stood in line at the food truck. This was going to take a while. I tried to keep reminding myself it was for the best—it was better being out here instead of at the precinct, listening to their idiotic locker room jokes and jabs thrown in my direction.
I definitely didn’t have the stomach for that today.
A kid was in the queue ahead of me and she was standing between her parents, holding their hands and chattering happily with them. My eyes were repeatedly drawn in their direction because of how picture-perfect and happy they looked together.
It was all I wanted as a child.
To be able to spend time with both my parents together. I wanted them to be affectionate and hold my hands. To take me out for ice cream and ask me how school was going. Anything to make me feel like they actually gave a damn about me. Normal everyday stuff other kids my age took for granted.
I had to look away from the family because I realized my eyes were filled with hot embarrassing tears.
I couldn’t keep the memories out. Of crawling under my bed up in my room, while my parents fought violently downstairs. It was the same memory that kept returning to me every time I thought of them recently.
Mom had made fish pie that night because it was my favorite. I was surprised when she took it out of the oven. I didn’t know she even realized I liked it.
Dad rarely ever ate with us, and it was only when he walked into the kitchen and saw the fish pie on the table—that I understood why my mother had cooked it that night.
He hated fish pie. Couldn’t stand it.
The sight of it angered him so much that he picked it up and flung it to the wall. They started fighting and I ran out of the room, sobbing uncontrollably. They didn’t notice.
They were more interested in fighting with each other. From my room upstairs, I heard glasses shattering, doors being slammed, their loud voices reverberating through our house.
Eventually there was silence. When it was quiet for a while, I tiptoed down the stairs to find Dad sitting at the kitchen table, still fuming in his own wrath. He saw me and it was like he finally remembered he had a kid.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked him in a whisper.
“It doesn’t matter where she is, kiddo. We’re going out for pizza. How about that?”
The smile on his face was forced. He thought I would be thrilled at the prospect but I wasn’t. I didn’t care about pizza. I cared about what was going on between them and how miserable they both looked. All the time.
I couldn’t understand what they were doing to each other. I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t be a happy family.
I told him I wasn’t hungry and ran back to my room.
He didn’t even bother coming after me.
My brain was a fuzz by the time I returned to the precinct with the food. I didn’t even care anymore if I got the orders right or not. I left all the food in the cafeteria and walked back to my desk, barely hearing anything anyone else was saying.
My parents’ marriage had deeply affected my life. In more ways than I was ever brave enough to admit. When I thought about it, I realized my childhood was the reason why I was always so afraid of commitment and getting married. Why I never wanted to rely on someone else for my happiness. I didn’t trust anyone. I especially didn’t trust men. They were guaranteed to disappoint and I didn’t want to deal with that again in my lifetime.
Was that why I had such a knee-jerk reaction to waking up and finding a ring on my finger?
Not only had I done the thing I was always so afraid of doing—getting married, but I’d married a complete stranger. I definitely couldn’t trust him. No matter how good the sex was.
He was a Doherty. He belonged to a mafia family that lived in a world of violence and crime. The very world my profession was at a constant battle with. I got into this job because I had a vested interest in peace. I wanted to fight against people who created turbulence in our cities and in this country. I wanted to play a role in fighting crime. How was I married into it?
