Page 47 of Brendan (The Doherty Mafia)
As much as I wanted to focus on what Brendan was saying, and a few hours ago, this would have been a significant thing to me—I couldn’t brood over it right then. My son’s safety was my only concern.
“What will they do to Davey? Are they going to hurt him?”
“People who work with me are out there right now trying to hunt them down. We will find Davey.”
“But will they hurt him?” I shouted. I just wanted him to answer the question. There was some relief in knowing that Brendan knew who had Davey. At least it wasn’t a complete lost cause.
“No. They will not. They know I’ll kill every last one of them if they do.”
I peered into his eyes. They were so green and they were burning up. He wasn’t exaggerating. He was prepared to kill for Davey.
Why?
Why would he care so much about a kid he had just met?
Brendan released his grip on my hands and stood up. He towered over me and I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“Brendan, there is something I want to tell you…” I started in a shaky voice.
“He’s my son.”
We stared at each other in silence. I expected him to be angry, but he wasn’t. At least he wasn’t in that moment. Maybe Davey’s disappearance was all that was on his mind too.
“When did you figure it out?” I asked.
“This morning, while you were asleep. He was asleep too. I went to his room to check on him and I realized he looks exactly like I did at that age. He has my eyes.”
My nostrils flared as I felt another bout of tears welling up inside me.
“And then you left,” I said.
Brendan sat beside me on the couch.
It was the truth. That was exactly what had happened. As soon as he figured out that he was Davey’s father, he had left us. Just as I’d expected him to.
“I needed some time to think,” he said, after being silent for a few moments.
“Would you have even shown up again if you didn’t find out about the kidnapping?” I asked, wiping my tears.
Now that it was established that I couldn’t do anything for Davey, the only thing distracting me was directing all my frustration and anger at Brendan. Didn’t I have every right to be angry with him?
“Maybe I could have dealt with it in a different way if I was told the truth by you,” he said. Brendan looked up at me from under his heavy lidded eyes. He was frustrated too.
I clasped my hands together in my lap, tangling my fingers together.
“I guess I was waiting for the right opportunity,” I replied.
“You can stop lying to me now, Rosalie. More importantly, you can stop lying to yourself. You were never going to tell me. You wanted me gone from your life. From Davey’s life. You had plenty of opportunity to confess.”
I tore my gaze away from him, breaking down in sobs again.
“I didn’t know what I was doing, I felt so lost and confused. I didn’t want to disappoint Davey. I didn’t think you would want to be a father.”
I hoped he would take me in his arms again, that he would quickly forgive me for keeping the truth from him—but he didn’t.
“That was not a decision for you to make. To decide whether I want to be a father or not.”
“You can admit it, Brendan. Now that I know about your history. You never wanted kids. You don’t want to be a father.”
He banged his fists on the coffee table, hard enough that he made the coasters jump.
“Damn right I didn’t. I never wanted to be a father. You’ve got it all figured out pretty well. But what made you think I would abandon my responsibility as a father? That I wouldn’t fall in love with Davey. That I wouldn’t feel a connection to my own son? He’s my flesh and blood. He’s a Doherty. You thought I would reject him?”
He spat the words out with venom in his voice. In those moments, it seemed like he truly hated me. I hated myself too.
“Brendan, I’m sorry,” I murmured.
He stood up and walked to the window, keeping his back turned to me firmly.
“It’s too late for that now. If I knew the truth, Davey wouldn’t have been taken. If I knew he is my son, I would have known they were coming for him and I would have protected him.”
I knew he was right. I had made a poor error in judgement. I knew that now, but there was nothing I could do to change it. There was nothing I could do to bring my son back.
I went up to Brendan, and when he still didn’t turn to look at me I placed a hand on his shoulder. Finally, he turned.
“I’m going to find him, Rosalie. He’s my kid. I’m not going to let anyone hurt him. I promise you that.”
