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They’d kill to keep us safe, and to be honest, that was the best kind of security going. I didn’t have to worry about alarms or the cops. This was the kind of protection that was priceless.
“It’s okay, Shay,” I soothed, even as I pulled out the ear plugs and set them in the little carrycase I’d put on the coffee table.
“Who is it? I thought we were alone here.”
His nerves bled through the words, and I hated the insecurity, even as I recognized this day had been dawning for a long, long time.
“We are. Someone has probably come to visit.”Sansear plugs, I heard the rattle, and knew it came from the kitchen.
That keyed me into the fact it was either staff or…family.
I wanted to pull a face, but didn’t, because he could misread it and think I was scared too.
I wasn’t. Not at all.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t prefer the noise to have come from a staff member though. I’d even take a security guard.
As I got to my feet, I moved over to him and pressed a hand to his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” I repeated, smiling at him. What he saw in my eyes must have reassured him because he swallowed, nodded abruptly, then turned to look at the TV.
Knowing that was about as much of a response as I could expect from my kid, I moved toward the noise.
To get there, I had to walk down a small hall made of more of those damn screens, all paper and light. Maybe it was a quirk of mine or his, but I actually hated the light. It was my natural enemy. Most artists adored it. For me, though, I did my best work at night, away from the sun.
This place was like my idea of hell with all the windows and the minutest of coverings over them.
I didn’t have anything against Japanese decor, but I had to admit, nothing about it gelled with me or my taste. To be honest, I couldn’t believe it fit Declan either. Especially not when I passed an Asian armoire, complete with a carved jade inlay in the doors, or another console with a rack of frickin’ katanas on there.
Pretty sure I’d remember if my ex had a Jackie Chan or a Jet Li fetish, I headed for the kitchen and wasn’t surprised to encounter Aidan Sr.
Most people were terrified of this man. My father included. As much as he’d respected him, that was nothing compared to how much he’d feared him. But then, a healthy dose of the two kept men in line. Weird as it sounded, I knew that now after being a professor.
Not that I threatened to slice my students’ throats if they didn’t get their assignments to me on time or anything…
I found, oddly enough, as I stood in the doorway, peering into the only normal room of the house because the weird aesthetic even bled into the bedrooms—except they had functioning doors, windows, curtains, and walls, thank God—that I wasn’t scared of him.
I wasn’t scared at all.
Leaning against the doorjamb, I watched as my son’s grandfather made himself a pot of tea with stuff that was very clearlynotJapanese. The only thing Asian about it was the name—china. But this was Dresden. I figured Dec kept this around the place for when his parents visited. Just like the Irish teabags he had in the kitchen cupboard. I guessed they were for them too.
“What are you doing here, Mr. O’Donnelly?”
He was fortunate I was feeling polite, or I’d have called him by his given name.
“I’m under orders not to see the boy, but you I can see.”
My lips twisted at that. “That’s a sin to chalk up to Father Doyle.”
His frown was fierce. “What are you talking about?”
“You lied to me.”
“I did no such thing.”
I shrugged. “Declan, for all his sins, for all his flaws, would never throw me under the bus. I’m pretty sure you’d be ‘under orders’ to leave me alone too.”
“You kept his son from him.”
“I did,” I agreed, and not for the first time, I felt little guilt over that.
