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Tadhg shook him by the shoulder, pulling off a laugh much better than he did.

The guard shook his head, then went back to his fish and chips. Bren commended himself when the door clattered shut and he only threw Tadhg’s arm off his shoulder instead of seeing if a second punch might knock a few teeth loose.

Tadhg took a step back, his hands raised to block whatever came next. “Look.” One of his arms had reached out like he was going to shake Bren’s shoulder again, but he seemed to think better of it. “I just want to talk.”

Bren spread his hands to show that Tadhg was already talking, and when the prick recovered from flinching, he shook his head.

“Not here.” He looked around like he was sure there was another guard lurking behind the bins across the street.

If Bren stayed where he was or moved towards home, Tadgh would follow him, determined as he was to keep talking. Then he’d punch him again and have to worry about who might be watching. A voice in the back of his head warned Bren that this might be a trap, but he was able to shake it off. If Cian and Luke were waiting to jump him, all the better.

He nodded towards the nearest alley and Tadhg’s expression relaxed. Their feet made ripples in dingy puddles as they went down the grimy path, Bren a couple of steps behind Tadhg. They were a few yards from the spot where a gap in the chain-link fence framed the shrubs that hid the path on the other side when Bren grunted.

“That’s far enough.”

Fuck if he was going into those woods in the wintertime ever again.

Tadhg looked like he was going to object but sighed and turned to face him.

“Look—” He ran his hand through his hair, eyes darting everywhere but at Bren. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at Bren like he was expecting to get a pat on the back and be told it was all good. When that didn’t happen, he looked down at the puddle beneath his trainers.

“Cian had been talking about roughing him up for a while.” He shoved his hand into his pocket and let out a choked grunt. “Put some fear into him. That was it. Honest. I didn’t think he was going to put A.J. in the—”

Bren leapt at him and Tadhg didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. His back slammed against the chain-link behind him.

“You keep his name out of your fuckin’ mouth!”

Bren’s throat was filled with barbed wire, his voice replaced with a growl.

“If I ever hear you say his name again, I’m puttin’ you in the ground myself. You hear me?”

Tadhg had lost the ability to speak, standing on tiptoe above the rain-soaked ground.

“You hear me?!”

His chin jerked once and Bren threw him to the side with the last of the strength in his trembling arms. He stumbled a couple of paces but managed to keep upright by grabbing on to the fence.

They stared at each other as the rain fell around them, Tadhg rubbing at the spot where Bren’s hands had no doubt torn at skin along with the front of his jacket.

“You done?” Bren asked.

Tadhg straightened up and looked Bren in the eyes for the first time. His jaw was set so tight his face was trembling, and—was he imagining it? No. The piece of shit was actually holding back tears.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said.

Bren’s stomach turned at the note of pleading.

“You could try tellin’ the guards the fuckin’ truth. Want me to run over to Neptune’s?”

Bren took a step back that way and Tadhg’s hand twitched like he was going to try to stop him. Bren made a disgusted noise in his throat instead of slamming him against the fence again.

Shame danced across Tadhg’s face before it was swallowed by misery. “If I flip, Cian and Luke are going to tell the guards I started it. Present a new united front.”

Bren raised an eyebrow. He’d known Tadhg long enough that the phrase sounded like it came from someone else.

“Cian’s dad talked us through it last year. He said it keeps all of us safe if a traitor knows what’ll happen if they blab.”