Tequila Mockingbird (Sinners #3)

He spotted his mother moving through the crowd, and Connor looked past her, searching for Forest. He missed something Leonard said, and rather than ask the man to repeat it, he nodded and let Kiki take the conversation as they moved on to talking about the police department’s new rugby team and its slim chance of winning against Fire and Rescue’s brutes.

“That bitch who gave birth to him is outside,” Brigid muttered at her oldest son, her voice low enough to carry up to his ears but not much farther. “Bring the Hummer around. I’ll grab a knife from the kitchen and take care of her. We can dump her in the bay. Maybe there’s enough crabs left down by the bridge they’ll eat her body.”

Connor excused himself from his conversation with Captain Leonard. Grabbing his mother by the elbow, he led her away to a more secluded corner. He saw his father’s eyebrows raise in question, but by the expression on Donal’s face, Connor knew he was feeling more sympathy than curiosity. After all, the man had several decades of dealing with the Finnegan he’d married. If anyone knew when to get out of Brigid’s way, it certainly was his da.

Connor just had to figure out if it was one of those times.

“What do you mean, she’s outside?” Connor bent his head down to hear his mother over the rumble of conversation in the shop. “Here? What does she want?”

“She wants to destroy him,” Brigid growled back. “God, I hate her. I want to stab her eyes out with a fork. I’d do it, too, if I wasn’t sure your da would arrest me. What’s wrong with that man? Sometimes, I think his mum dropped him on his head.”

“Forest?” Connor tried to follow his mother’s heated rant. “You think he was dropped on his head?”

“No, your da! Donal,” Brigid sighed. “Pay attention, boy. Focus. What are we going to do about that woman?”

“What’s up?” Damie edged in. “Something wrong with Forest? Where’d he go?”

“Probably too many people. I’d duck too,” Miki cut in, and Connor sighed, wondering how he’d ever thought he’d have a private conversation with his mother anywhere near Forest’s band mates. Catching the look he got from Con, Miki frowned. “What? No?”

“Unlike you, freak, Forest likes people,” Damie snorted, then nodded to Brigid. “No seriously, what’s up?”

“His mother’s here.” Connor held up his hand to ward off the rounds of suggestions on how to deal with Ginger Ackerman he knew would be offered up. “Mum just wanted me to know.”

“Why’s she around?” Miki cocked his head. Jerking a thumb toward Brigid, he said, “He’s got a new one. Mom 2.0. Much fucking better.”

The interruption was worth it just to see Brigid’s emerald eyes glittering with tears at Miki’s casual remark. Her arms lifted, and the singer found himself caught up in a fierce hug. To his credit, he didn’t wriggle free immediately, and it took a second or two for his shoulders to stop being stiff, but eventually he hugged her in return, patting her back awkwardly until she let go.

“You should go see if he needs some help.” Brigid turned to Connor, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “Maybe run her off into the street where I can hit her with a car.”

“Gotta love you, Bridge.” Damie grinned.

“I’d kill for any of you.” She sniffed back. “God, that woman just boils my teeth. Connor, you’ve got to….”

“I’ll see if he needs me,” he promised as he clasped his hands onto his mom’s shoulders. “But Mum, he’s a strong guy. He can take care of himself.”

“But he shouldn’t have to,” Brigid shot back. “That’s your job. Just like he takes care of you. It’s how a marriage works. Good marriages.”

“I haven’t asked him to marry me, Mum. Too soon. Probably scare him off. Hell, scares the shit out of me just thinking about it,” Connor admitted, holding up his cast-wrapped arm. “I’d like to get this piece of shit off of me first. It’d be nice to have hot rock star sex without worrying if I’m going to bash his head in.”

Miki eyed Connor and snorted softy. “Dude, if you’re worrying about bashing someone’s head in during hot rock star sex, then you’re doing it all wrong.”




IT WAS hard seeing her. Not because of the changes in his life but because a part of him ached to see his own mother shuffling back and forth on a street corner, her arms wrapped around her too-skinny body. Even in broad daylight, she scanned passing cars, looking for something—someone to take her in.

He’d done that with her. That looking. That hoping for a trick so he could get something to eat. Have enough money to stay someplace warm.

Then he’d spat in Franklin’s face when the man gave him what he’d wanted, what he’d needed. But Forest couldn’t abandon her. Not then, when he’d still held onto the lingering belief she’d always been there for him.

Only to discover she’d abandoned him long before Frank ever came into the picture.

“Hey, Mom.” She turned when he spoke, startled for some reason to find him staring down at her.