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“And that isn’t a secret too?” she replied, deftly twisting things around.
Before we’d married, I’d promised myself that I’d be an open book for whatever questions she had for me. I’d just thought that particular side of my history would forever stay out of the equation.
“My father used to beat us.”
Her hand came out to cup my knee. “I know. I saw her bruises when she came to visit Mom. I remember them, even being so young.”
My lips twisted. “The old man had no shame. Didn’t care if he marked you or not. Arrogant bastard.” I swallowed. “He hurt me, Aoife. He hurt me badly. One day, I decided enough was enough and I ran away from home.
“I stayed on the streets for a while, but I was best friends with Aidan Jr. back then. Knew all his family. Brennan and Conor were close to me too. Declan and Eoghan were a bit too young, but the four of us ran around together.
“When I left home, pulled out of school, they looked for me. When they found me, they dragged me to their place and I just never left.”
“He disappeared around about the same time as you did,” she pointed out softly, and when she caught my eye, her question was, “Aidan Sr.?”
I dipped my chin in agreement. “Said a child molester deserved no other fate than being tossed in the Hudson by his brothers.”
She swallowed and her hand clenched around my knee. “Finn?”
As I tilted my head to look at her, our gazes clashed and held for seemingly endless seconds. “Aoife?”
“I’d have pushed him in the river too.”
I jerked back in surprise, and though it stunned the shit out of me, I laughed. Fuck, I did more than laugh. It bellowed out of me until my sides ached, my belly twinged, and my eyes watered. When I rubbed at my eyes though, I saw she was pouting.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
“Just trying to imagine you pushing that bastard into the river.”
“I’m stronger than I look.” A wince crossed her features. “Well, I used to be. Don’t forget I had to heft big bags of flour around.”
Raising her hand to my lips, I kissed her knuckles. “Aidan did it so you and I don’t have to wish we did.” But I was touched. Touched because I hadn’t expected her to say that.
I’d expected the usual, “I’m sorry, Finn.” Or, worse still, for her to be revolted by the notion that I’d been abused and unable to look at me as anything other than a victim.
Instead, this woman, as was her way, stood firmly at my side. A source of strength, of support and succor.
I squeezed her small hand, loving how hers daintily fit in mine, and said, “I’ll look into your mother’s death.”
“Thank you,” she whispered on an exhalation.
“How did she pass?” I clucked my tongue. “I mean, you obviously think there was more to it than just a car accident.”
“Hit and run.” She cleared her throat. “They never found out who did it.”
“It should be easy enough to get the traffic reports.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. About her, about your dad, about every fucking thing.”
She spread her hand out, unfurling it so she could place it on the side of my jaw. “Thank you for not shrugging off the notion as ridiculous, Finn.”
I shrugged. “Crazier shit happens in politics all the time, Aoife.”
“That’s what concerns me.”
Turning my head so I could press a kiss to the center of her palm, I closed my eyes and breathed in her scent.
It was good to be close to her again, close and in our own space. Our own home.
If the Senator had knocked off his ex, then that meant Aoife could be in danger, too. It didn’t align with what I knew about the man. I’d always figured he was one of the good politicians—if any of them even existed.
