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If Aoife’s motherhadbeen knocked down by Magdalena, there was no way I’d be able to hand her over to the police simply by way of who she was. No way I’d even want to hand her over, though. Lena was like my mother, for Christ’s sake. I didn’t want her to go to jail, but if she’d run down Michelle…
My throat felt thick with concern because even if I betrayed Aidan by reporting Lena, he’d get her off the charge. He’d pay anything to keep her safe. I knew that like I knew my face in the mirror.
Plus, there was every chance that this case had been classified as ‘unsolved’ for a reason. Aidan might have already paid off the cops in charge of the investigation.
I was, I realized by three AM, fucked.
And not in the way I’d envisaged on my first night home with my wife after a few months.
At four, I gave up on trying to sleep and headed for the gym. After a ten-mile run, I’d killed some time and Aoife was out for the count. I’d intended on waking up with her, on sharing a leisurely breakfast to celebrate her all-clear and our first morning back home, before I got started on work, but I had to know if this leap was illogical—and God, I hoped it was.
Showering and dressing as quickly and as quietly as I could, I sneaked out and saw that it was five-thirty. By the time I made it to Aidan’s house, it would be nearer six and he was usually awake by then. He didn’t sleep well, and considering he was a sick bastard, it was only right that he couldn’t. Not even confession could cleanse a man’s soul totally.
I drove myself to the house and felt sick with each mile I passed. Even as I hoped it wasn’t Lena, my gut said it was, but discovering the truth would provide no closure to Aoife. It would only bring extra heartache in the long run.
Magdalena, if guilty, had about as much of a shot of seeing the inside of a jail cell as Jesus himself.
Which put me in the shittiest Catch 22 in the universe.
If Aoife discovered the truth, she’d rightfully loathe Lena. Resentment would grow, and it would tear at our relationship because there was no justice for her mother’s passing.
In my shoes, if someone hurt Lena, I’d tear down this fucking city to get justice for her, and even then, some bastard moldering away in a jail cell wouldn’t be enough.
Which meant keeping all of this from her.If,and I prayed it was an if, Lena was involved in this cluster fuck.
Even as I pulled up outside the guardhouse at the head of their drive, I wondered if I should reverse back out, carry on driving, and not stop to answer questions. If I knew the truth, then I was obliged to tell Aoife, but if I did, that could be the end of us. And for what?
Lena would never go to jail, and I could make Aoife happy. Hell, no ‘could’ about it. I’d make it my life’s mission, but that still wasn’t enough to avenge her mom’s too-early death.
That part of my nature that needed answers though, demanded I smile at Jimmy, one of the runners on guard, and head down the driveway.
I’d always had this need toknow. Everything and anything. As a kid, when I’d discovered my father had disappeared, I’d gone to Aidan and asked if he was involved. Knowledge brought comfort. It was addictive, and it made me obsessive.
I remembered when, all those years ago, he’d looked at me in that calm way of his, his eyes as gentle as a still lake, and I’d known the answer before he even murmured, “A bastard like that is too vile to walk the same streets as you, Finn. Now, you never have to worry about seeing him again.”
Love was something that was slow to grow, slower to form. But I’d loved Aidan from that moment on. As a father, a friend, a confidant, and a mentor. He’d done what nobody else could for me. He’d taken out the threat, had made it so I didn’t have to worry about that part of my past.
I wanted to give that relief to Aoife. I wanted to—
As I pulled up outside the house, I pressed my forehead to the wheel.
When the door opened to my left, I jerked in surprise and saw Aidan climbing into the passenger seat.
“You’re here early.”
His statement had me slouching in my seat. “I needed to speak with Lena.”
He cleared his throat. “Got a phone call last night. From a cop on our payroll.”
My heart plummeted. “He told you I requested the information.”
“Yeah. He did.”
“Lena killed Aoife’s mother,” I whispered, feeling the bottom of my stomach fall at the confirmation of what I’d already figured out.
I wasn’t a man who found it hard to accept life could be shit sometimes, but this? I was fucking floored.
“You remember last November when I went to the doctors?”
