Whiskey Rebellion (Taking Risks Book 3) Read online

He looks up at the ceiling. “’Cause I won’t be here when they are.”

  My brows pull together. “Well, that’s not nice.”

  “Lena, you haven’t invited me to your home until now, when they aren’t here. And this bed is way better than my tent.”

  I hold his gaze, and I know he’s absolutely right. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to subject you to that.”

  He takes me by the back of the head, kissing me hard on the lips. “It’s fine.” I don’t believe him, though. His eyes tell me it’s anything but fine. Before I can say anything more, though, he is covering my body with his, pressing my legs back as he looks down at me. “They don’t matter anyway.”

  I sigh happily since I was worried for a moment there. “They don’t.”

  But when his eyes meet mine, they trouble me. I can’t help but think he does feel my parents matter.

  And I’m unsure what that means.

  Holding my ma’s hand, I watch as my da feeds her a bit of Jell-O. “Noreen, ya gotta eat.”

  “Then get me food! Not this sugary shite that will add to my arse.”

  My da gives her a look as he exhales harshly. “Yer arse is perfect.”

  “Well, of course it is ’cause I don’t eat sugar! Please, my love, go get me something with substance.”

  “Love, they want ya to eat this. It’s easy on yer belly.”

  “I’m starving. I want food.”

  My da looks at his wit’s end, but he gets up, leaving the room to find someone to help. When I look at my ma, my heart hurts. She still hasn’t gotten control of her face back. It is very droopy, and her arm isn’t working fully either. They shaved her head for the surgery, but thankfully, the three cuts aren’t too big. But Ma, being ever so vain, has wigs on order. They should be here today.

  Though, none of that matters. She is alive, and she is being herself.

  “How ya feel, Ma?”

  “Well, I have a headache, and I’m hungry.”

  “They may have ripped your skull open, so a headache seems legit.”

  She shoots me a deadpan look. “Whatever. I’m fine. I’ll be better when I get to leave this awful place.”

  “They’re saying a few weeks, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she says on an exhale. “I want my bed, and I want my food.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, and she shrugs.

  “I’m alive, like I said.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Ya did say that.”

  She sends me a small half smile as she cups my hands with hers. “You canceled tea?”

  “Yeah, to come here.”

  “Oh,” she says, and I think she’s gonna fight with me, but she doesn’t. “Yer right, I’m more important.”

  “You are.”

  She sends me a smile. “I talked to Meredith.”

  I still, watching the side of her face. “Oh?”

  “She told me ya had a man in yer bed this morning.” I swallow hard. “The bartender from the pub?”

  Stupid Meredith. Doesn’t she have anything better to do than talk about what I’m doing? “Yeah, his name is Jackson.”

  She bites her lip. “I’m surprised security let him in.”

  “They tried not to.”

  She’s fuming, I can see it, but she doesn’t yell. Instead, she reaches for her iPad, holding it on her lap. “We need to discuss a few things with the schedule.”

  I eye her. Waiting. Is that all she’s going to say? Carefully, I ask, “What about it?”

  “We need to extend it to spring.”

  My eyes widen. “Spring?”

  She nods before meeting my gaze, her eyes sad. “I’ve lost feeling in my arm and leg on this side of my body,” she says, tapping my hand that is holding hers. “I need therapy since I can’t get around like I used to.”

  My heart picks up in speed. I knew she wouldn’t be right back at it, but spring? “You told me that when you made it through this, I’d be off the hook, Ma, that you would take over.”

  She nods. “I know, my love, but I can’t be the face of our family in a wheelchair wearing a wig. I need yer help.”

  But, but…Jackson is leaving. I want to go with him.

  “Until the spring, though?”

  “Yes,” she says, her eyes locking with mine. “We all knew I wouldn’t bounce back right away.”

  “Yeah, but the spring is almost four months away.”

  “Ya have somewhere to be?”

  I don’t answer her, looking away as I chew on my lip. Jackson is adamant about leaving, but surely, he can wait for me. It would only be an extra three months here. He loves it here. He loves his jobs, and he is loved by everyone.

  Surely, he can wait.

  “You haven’t forgotten about the gala tomorrow? Yer dress should be at the house.”

  “It is, and I’m going—” I pause, watching her. I’m unsure if this is a good idea, but then, I don’t want her to find out anyway but from me. “With Jackson.”

  Her eyes cut to me, her lips pressing together. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Jackson is taking me.”

  “The bartender?”

  “Yeah,” I say, holding her gaze. I refuse to be shy about him. I’m proud of who he is. “And he isn’t just a bartender, Ma. He is actually a jack-of-all-trades. He’s on holiday, working to pay for his adventures.”

  Her eyes are narrowed, glaring into mine. “I don’t care what he is or what he does. He is not of noble birth.”

  I scoff. “Neither are we! We just have old money, and someone somehow scammed this town into thinking we were royalty.”

  “Lena Élodie!”

  I laugh. “It was probably great-great-great-grandma Élodie.”

  “Nonetheless! You will not take some bartender to the Dublin Cancer Gala. Everyone who is anyone will be there.”

  “Yeah, along with Jackson and me.”

  “Lena!”

  “What, Ma?” I ask, and then I hold up my hand. “Please calm down, yer face is turning red.”

  “’Cause yer killing me! You know better. Go with someone from the list I gave you. All good, noble men.”

  “But they aren’t Jackson,” I tell her before looking at my hands. “He’s important to me. He is amazing—”

  “Ah, Lena, I’ve heard this, and then the boy raped ya. I won’t have it happen again.”

  I gawk at her, my heart falling into my gut. “Jackson would never.”

  “And we thought that of the gobshite Casey.”

  “Ma, no. This is different. Jackson is a good man.”

  “He’s after ya for yer money.”

  “No, he isn’t, but everyone else is!”

  “Ah, Lena, if they have money, they don’t need yers.”

  “He has money,” I yell, my heart pounding in my chest.

  “Lena, don’t lie about him to make him seem better. I know what a piece of shite looks like—”

  “He is amazing,” I sneer, and then I stand. “And for someone who wants my help, you’d think you’d treat the person I am with—”

  “Yer with! What in the world, Lena? You aren’t with anyone.”

  “I am with him,” I say firmly. “And there is nothing you can do about that.”

  Her eyes widen as much as they can, her mouth parting as she shakes her head. “You have a duty to this family.”

  “And I will honor it, like I said, but if you want me to do more than what we agreed on, then I suggest you watch how ya speak of him.”

  “He is nothing, Lena. He is just a plaything for ya.”

  “No, he is way more than that.”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Don’t ya walk away from me.”

  But I’m already leaving.

  My body is trembling, my heart is in my shoes, but I refuse to let her know that her words hurt me. I thought that we were getting somewhere, that she was starting to accept I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be. But her eyes, the judgme