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I rubbed my chin as, on the screen opposite us, a screen that had been installed earlier today at my insistence and for an occasion such as this—although I’d never anticipated one of our men turning traitor, nor had I expected an attack on Declan’s woman and son, I’d just foreseen her running and had wanted eyes on her—a video of the house’s layout popped up. Conor’s skill never ceased surprising me.
Or terrifying the piss out of me.
For all that, it was pretty much how I imagined it. Aela was a bold woman. A strong one. I didn’t think she’d have a white, blank space for a home, and my belief was merely confirmed as I peered into all the rooms where cops were storming through the house, trying to find the second invader I’d warned them about when I’d made the 911 call.
Getting to my feet, I practically tiptoed past my parents, because I wanted them to stay asleep, then I reached the screen, squinting into each room to see where she was.
I could hear her weeping still, and the sobs were heavy enough to tell me she’d be burning out soon after the adrenaline wore off.
She wasn’t used to violence, which was both good and bad. Good, because it meant she’d been safe in the years she’d been away from us, but bad because our worldwasn’tsafe. Not while we were at war with the Italians, and not, in all honesty, on any day.
There was always danger. Always the threat of violence. It was just how we rolled.
When I found her in a bedroom, I narrowed my eyes on the body on the ground. He was splayed on his back, mouth wide open as he ate dust now that he was dead.
I didn’t recognize his face, so that told me he wasFamigliabecause they had a seemingly endless list of goons they could ship out on jobs.Thiswas why we were better. We gave a shit about our people.
I saw her tucked against the side of the bed, her shoulders shaking, huddled up small as she came to terms with what had just happened. Knowing her, she wasn’t upset by the killing of someone, just by the fear that had struck her hard. Aela was strong. She was born into violence. She knew how things worked. Tonight could have ended a lot differently, which was what she was processing.
Slowly, she rolled herself onto her hands and knees and started toward the foot of the bed, rightfully cautious.
Her reaction prompted me to take her off mute.
“Aela, you don’t need to worry. The shooter’s dead. Keep me on the line while you’re dealing with the cops. I’m recording everything.” I shot my brother a look, making sure he started picking up on our conversation. “I want to make sure they deal with you fairly.”
I knew she appreciated my calmness, because I saw her face pucker for a second before it flashed clear. There was no irritation at my lack of expression, not like there would be with some people. If anything, I watched her suck in a deep breath before she whispered, “Okay. I-I’ll make sure you can hear everything.”
She’d changed since she’d left the warehouse earlier today, and was wearing a kind of plaid shirt, one that had a breast pocket. I watched her as she tapped the screen, turned her phone upside down, and slipped it down into the fold. When the sound didn’t cut off, I knew she’d put me on speaker, so I made sure to mute mine again as she headed over to the closet.
My heart was in my throat as I waited on the door to open, to see my nephew for the first time.
“Seamus, kiddo, it’s me. You can open the door. The cops are here.” She tapped it, then the automatic clicks of the locks sounded, and in a blur of motion, someone rushed out of the small room and hurled themselves at her.
When they collided, my mouth tensed as I saw his fear, his need to protect her, and I understood it. I’d been there myself. I knew how that felt.
Sucking in a sharp breath as I watched them hug, I didn’t twist around when I felt someone at my side. Someone who was just as affected as I was by what I was seeing.
“They’re close,” Conor rasped.
“They are.” That much was clear.
“We need to make sure Declan doesn’t fuck this up.”
“I don’t think he will,” I said softly, and I hoped I was right. His response to the news he was a father had come as a shock, but it hadn’t been a devastating blow to him. Not like I’d expected, at any rate.
He’d seemed stunned by the prospect, but he hadn’t been angry. If anything, I thought the news had turned him introspective, and that was never a good thing where he was concerned.
He tended to overthink things by nature, and after Ma had left his ‘room’ sobbing, I got the feeling from the trace of guilt in her eyes that the reason she was sobbing was because of the words they’d shared before he’d gone into cardiac arrest.
Whatever he’d said to her had made her cry. Though that pissed me off, I got it.
I did.
Ma had learned she had a grandson, and she was all for family. Declan had probably been setting shit straight, and I didn’t blame him. Sometimes, especially with Ma, that was imperative. She was Da’s benchmark, after all. If she accepted something, he would shortly after. Well, where the family was concerned. Not with business.
Rubbing the back of my neck as I stared at mother and son, I watched as she hooked her arm around Seamus’s shoulder, then rumbled, “Don’t look at the foot of the bed, Shay.”
He shuddered, and of course, he looked at the foot of the bed. But she grabbed his chin and ground out, “Listen to me. There might be a time when you’re ready to see that stuff, but tonight is not that night. I took care of things. You don’t need to see how.”
