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Thirty-One
Aidan
I didn’t wantto leave Savannah with my ma. Mostly because she was in a finicky mood—it had been years since I’d been clipped around the ear—but also because nobody should be dumped on family as fast as Savannah had been, when their partner had to head on out.
I had a feeling if anyone could survive a trial by fire with Magdalena O’Donnelly as the judge then it was her, but still, I knew it was cruel abandoning her, and only did so because if Da opened up the fucking van and found the Archbishop of New York in there, then my ear wouldn’t have been the only thing being clipped today—my balls would be next.
The golf cart had wind whipping around me as I traveled over the large acreage toward the summer house. It had a nice name, but a not-so-nice purpose.
Ma used it tongue-in-cheek, but there was nothing tongue-in-cheek about what Da was capable of doing there.
By the time I reached the property, my nuts had almost frozen off despite my thick winter coat, and the van was still outside, so relief hit me as I clambered off the cart and headed inside the building.
About the size of a small house, Da had an office in here as well as a man cave for when he was in Ma’s bad books. I’d never looked, but I was sure he had a bedroom for that purpose as well.
"Merry Christmas," I greeted Liam, one of Da’s usual guards, who was a bit beaten up after that shit show at Coney Island two months ago.
"Same to you, Aidan. They’re in the office. He’s chomping at the bit," Liam warned, making me pull a face.
"Thanks for the heads-up."
Liam just grinned as I hobbled into the house.
Sound alone would have told me where my family was, because, Jesus, they were loud.
As I made it to the end of the hall, I cast a look in the office first, and had to hide a smile because amid the whole chaos, Jacob was fast asleep on Finn’s chest, not even flinching whenever Da boomed with laughter or Declan and Brennan began bickering over fuck knew what.
That kid, I swore.
Finn and I were on a wavelength that didn’t exist for anyone else in my family. I wasn’t sure if that was because of what we’d done together, of the demons we’d fought side by side, or if it was because we were the eldest, but he cast me a look the second I popped my head around the door, like he knew I was there.
Then, of course, Jake being a traitor stirred, hauled himself around his dad’s knee and garbled, "Un-cail, Un-cail!" Da had taught him that I wasuncailin Gaelic, so the poor little fecker had to get his tongue around that now. He’d proved himself to be stubborn when I’d tried to unteach it, and he still used the butchered Gaelic.
Conversation came to a screeching halt at Jake’s call, and Da, who was sitting on his office chair, surrounded by maroon leather and mahogany wood like he was Colonel Mustard in Clue, kicked his legs off the antique desk and straightened up. "Junior!" he boomed. "What’s this gift you’ve sent me? Is it to make up for missing Thanksgiving?"
"Where’s Kid?" I questioned, rather than answering.
"At the house. He’s working," Finn explained.
"So he should be as well. Fine mess he’s gotten us into," Da complained, twirling a cigar between his fingers before he took a deep puff.
"Thought Ma forbade you from having those," I groused, folding my arms across my chest.
"It’s Christmas," was his retort.
"Exactly. Don’t think it’s fair Kid’s working, do you? When it’s Christmas?"
"His system was breached—"
"And he acted the exact way he was supposed to. There’s no code-version of Fort Knox, Da. Everything can be deciphered." I huffed as I limped into the room and perched my ass on the side of his desk. "You can’t keep fining him."
"Of course, I can. He’s my boy. Little prick would get too big a head if I didn’t." Da frowned at me. "What’s with you, anyway? Bringing me a gift then telling me off all in one go?"
I grunted. "Sometimes you need to be told. No fucker else will outside of this room."
Da grinned at me, which was always a surprise. His changeability was worse than the fucking weather. "Need my boys to keep me grounded, do I?"
"You need us to do something, that’s for fucking sure," Eoghan retorted, getting to his feet and mirroring my position on the edge of the desk. When he crossed his arms too, he tipped his head to the side and asked, "What’s with the white van? You going Dexter on us?"
