AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“By-blow?” Inessa repeated, her brow puckering.
“His illegitimate child,” Aoife answered. “I need to get you hooked on historical romance next.”
Despite myself, interest hit me. “You like romance books?”
“Yes. We do,” was Inessa’s retort, but I sensed her bristling ahead of schedule.
I raised my hands in surrender, because even though I wanted answers, I wasn’t a total bitch. Even if romance bookshadn’tbeen my jam, I’d never give them crap about that. Someone’s taste was their taste, and I celebrated that.
The world would be a boring place if we all weren’t individuals and unique with it.
“I love romance books too.” When they gaped at me, evidently disbelieving my claim, I reached for my cellphone in my purse, scrolled onto my kindle app, and shoved it at Aoife. She peered at the covers and laughed.
“You like mafia romance?”
I didn’t have to look in a mirror to know my eyes were twinkling. “Very fitting, no?”
“Very.” She pursed her lips. “Why do you want to know if Finn is what you think he is?”
Because I wasn’t going to bullshit, I murmured, “So if Aidan Sr. tries to have me killed or something, I can hurl that at him.”
Inessa scowled. “Why would you do that? If he has you killed, then he wouldn’t be there to hurl anything at. Not even your shoe. Plus, they send” —she muttered under her breath— “Eoghan… out on those jobs. He wouldn’t hurt his brother like that.”
I loved that logic, especially because it was clear she’d been raised in the life. I mean, I knew that already, she screamed Bratva with her stiff manner and her stern disposition, but Aoife most certainly wasn’t like us.
While I knew she must knowsomethingabout how the Five Points’ world worked, it was obvious that she hadn’t anticipated my answer.
Ironically enough, it was clear to see that she liked it too. Taken aback, sure. Liked? That was somethingIhadn’t anticipated.
She reached for her cup of tea and stared at me over the rim. “I don’t think he’d kill you. Lena’s wanted a grandchild for a long time.”
“She has Jacob.”
“She’d have had Seamus, too, if Declan hadn’t done whatever he did that made you hide him.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” I defended. “Not totally. I thought he’d think I was trying to trap him, and when Deirdre, his girlfriend, died the way she did…” I shrugged. “I hate to say it when you’ve just brought a baby into the world, but what kind of life is it for a kid?”
She grimaced. “Did you think that thought didn’t cross my mind when I got pregnant?”
“I can imagine it did. All I could think was that I wanted to protect him. Keep him safe. And there I was, pregnant, standing over my friend’s grave. A friend who’d died because she was following her boyfriend who she thought was cheating… because he was. With me.”
“It wasn’t your fault she was following him.” Inessa shrugged. “I never expected Eoghan to remain faithful to me. Lena is right that we can’t expect it of them.”
I scowled at her. “You bet your ass we can expect it. If they say they love us, then we can expect it.”
“I agree.”
Inessa shrugged. “I don’t disagree, but I just… I was raised a different way.”
I sighed. “I was raised the same way. I know how often the men cheat. I’m sure my dad did too, and that I’ve probably got younger brothers and sisters roaming around the city, but… when they tell you they love you, they shouldn’t cheat. It should be like a law or something.”
“That is my kind of law,” she concurred with a soft smile.
I didn’t need to hear her say it to know that Eoghan loved her, and that she loved him in turn. I’d seen them together, and a blind man would know about their feelings for one another.
I didn’t think it was puppy love either. Eoghan wasn’t, and never had been, a puppy.
Having met him as a kid, having seen him in school, he’d been born and raised a pitbull. A nasty one.
Aoife studied me until her attention was broken when the server arrived with a tiered dish that had scones and petit fours and small, crustless sandwiches on it.
Tiny knives and forks were propped on gleaming linen napkins alongside bone china plates.
Because I was a dessert first kind of girl, I served myself a petit four and a scone, and as I smothered the scone with jam and cream, the silence grew tenser with every passing moment.
Until, eventually, Aoife blew out a breath, and muttered, “You didn’t hear this from me…”
