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Sure, I might have blue-tinted hair, and I might come across as a rebel for Sally across the road, but I was a suburban mom. I drove a minivan, for God’s sake. I wasn’t supposed to be getting involved with mafia wars anymore.
I’d striven long and hard to make a life for myself, a life for Seamus that was free from prejudice and free from violence. But one girl’s tears, her helplessness, the outpouring of love I’d heard in her voice for her man, had unraveled everything I’d spent years building. I’d been unable to say no. To back off. I’d pulled contacts I hadn’t talked to in years all to get her help.
And this was my thanks.
Jesus, it really didn’t pay to be kind, did it?
When Seamus asked, “Mom, what’s going on?” I bit my bottom lip, wanting to gnaw the damn thing off. Hell, that would be less painful than what I was currently going through, because admitting the truth to him was going to feel like I was taking a bullet to the belly.
And having taken one of those before, I knew exactly how painful it was.
Ironically enough, that had been by accident. Proof, I guessed, that violence was everywhere. Whether you were in the world I’d been raised in or not.
When the goon trudged off, evidently assuming I was pissed and that expecting an answer was dumb, I twisted around and whispered, “I-I…” I gulped, staring into eyes that were a bright blue, just like his father’s.
Everything about him was a mini Declan, so much so that it was painful to behold. At the same time, I’d never been so damn proud of him. When Declan saw him, he was going to shit a brick because it had to be like looking in a mirror, and since he was a handsome fecker, he’d passed on all the good genes.
There was barely any of me in Seamus’s face. That was why I called him ‘butt face’. Because he had a butt chin too, and that was literally my stamp on him. Great thing to pass on, huh?
“Mom? What is it?” His voice broke, and he winced. He hated how his voice kept changing, and I knew he was going to be even madder when he faced his father with a squeaky voice.
I blew out a breath, decided to stop being a chickenshit, and rasped, “It’s about your dad.”
* * *
DECLAN
BEFORE
“You needto start pulling your weight more, kid.”
It was so hard not to roll my eyes, but knowing I’d get a backhander was the only reason I restrained myself.
Pull my weight?
I’d like to know how I could do more than I already was.
“Leave the boy alone,” Ma snapped, her gaze drifting over me. “He’s already got a lot going on with school.”
“School? School?” Da pshawed. “What the fuck will school do for him?”
“How many times have I told you not. To. Swear. At. The. Table?” she roared, slamming to her feet and smacking her hands against the table, making the cutlery and battalion of plates and dishes rattle, as the pair of them locked eyes and practically snarled at each other.
Ma was the only person, and I meant,the only person,who would ever get through to Da. It was impressive, considering she was tiny, but it always made me feel like a jerk that I needed my mother to back me up.
I was sixteen, for fuck’s sake.
Sixteen.
I shouldn’t need a woman to get someone off my back, but Da had it in for me. Some days more than others, and today was worse than usual.
I had a bitch for a girlfriend who dangled me around her pinkie, teachers who wanted homework in even though I barely had time to attend school, never mind everything else, and then Da wanting more. Always wanting fucking more.
The only good thing was that Deirdre was terrified of me.
Sure, she liked to pretend that she wasn’t, but she was.
She was well aware that she had a lion by the tail and, as such, she knew to tread carefully. What she had on me could end me. Family or not,sonor not, Da wouldn’t stand for it if he knew what she did. So while,technically,she had all the power in our relationship, she was still scared.
