Never Alone Read Free

agreement.
    â€œYou’re the one who has had all the parental responsibilities. You’ve been helping out with Mom. You’re the one who found … I’m sorry.” He was sincere, and Megan knew that. Having only two or three real fights their entire lives, they were as close as a brother and sister could be. Megan could never figure out why the few fights they’d had were over their mother.
    â€œStill my kid sister?”
    â€œI don’t know. Still going to lend me money when I need it?”
    He smiled. “You’re living virtually rent-free in my Upper East Side apartment, that’s not enough? I thought you were making the big bucks now that you’re a high-profile detective.” He smiled. “Look, once I got Mom back and settled—which wasn’t easy, believe me—I realized I was wrong.”
    Megan gave her brother a small hug. “Thanks.”
    Nappa returned with a drink for Megan.
    â€œNappa, I’m really sorry for how I acted back at the cemetery. I was a jerk,” Brendan said.
    â€œDon’t worry about it. It’s been a long day for both of you. And my condolences about your father.”
    â€œThanks. Well, I better get mingling.” Brendan excused himself.
    â€œNappa,” Megan said, “we need to talk, and it’s as good a time as any, I guess. Actually, you just listen.” She let out a hard sigh. “I’m serious about this. I’m thinking about leaving the force.”
    Before Nappa could object, Megan said, “I need to, Nappa. For my own fucking sanity.”
    â€œMcGinn, your father was the reason you joined the force. Seriously, think about this. I know the last few cases have been grueling, especially the last case. You may want to leave, but the job will never leave you, and you know that. Take some time off.”
    She shook her head. “I’m burned out.”
    â€œPlease, as your partner, promise me you will take some time and really think this over.”
    She promised him, knowing full well her decision had been made. Megan clanked her glass with his. “To my dad. The late, great Detective Pat McGinn. God bless.”
    For the next six hours people talked, laughed, and filled the Murphy household with the occasional alcohol-induced tear. More than once she glanced over at Uncle Mike and felt more pain for his loss than for her own. He’d just lost his best friend—the one friend who had his back, no matter what. Knowing someone has your back rarely happens in this world as far as Megan could see. That part of Uncle Mike’s life just ended. He had Aunt Maureen, but it’s different between men, especially men on the job.
    By midnight Megan was sure she’d pass out if she didn’t get home to her Upper East Side apartment soon. “Time for me to go.”
    â€œOh, Meggie, please stay here tonight.” Aunt Maureen was a short woman with wide hips and a warm smile. She still bore the wedge haircut made popular by skater Dorothy Hamill in the 1976 Winter Olympics.
    Megan began putting on her coat. “I need my own bed tonight, Aunt Maureen.”
    Uncle Mike interrupted. “Leave her alone, Maureen. She knows what’s best for her right now.” He heaved himself up off the couch and declared, “But, kiddo, you are not taking the subway. I’m calling you a Town Car.” He held up his palm. “No arguing.”
    Megan complied, and thirty minutes later Uncle Mike walked her out to the shiny black Lincoln. Before she got in, he gave her a hug. His voice shook as he said, “We lost our Ginty, kiddo.”
    â€œYeah, we did.” Megan’s tears returned.
    â€œYou remember: we’re family, blood or not.” Uncle Mike quickly regained his composure. “Here, take this for the tip.” He tucked a twenty-dollar bill in her pocket.
    â€œUncle Mike, I’m not going to—”
    â€œYes, you are. Now, go and be