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Part One

One

Past

Aidan Jr.

“Bless me,Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was two weeks ago.”

“That’s a long time for you, Aidan,” Father Doyle rumbled.

My mouth pinched at the corners, his disapproval getting my back up like nothing else could.

Da made me come here today.

Da.

No one else.

And seeing as I didn’t feel like getting my ass kicked, I’d come.

When I peered around the small box where my brother had been raped, I felt my skin start to crawl.

Uncle Paddy had fixed all my problems.

He’d made Father McKenna’s corpse disappear.

But that didn’t clean my soul.

That didn't help me sit in this fucking box without wanting to wreck it.

That didn’t make the aftermath of knowing I was just as capable of violence as my father any better.

“Aidan?” Father Doyle prompted.

I should want to confess my sins.

I should want to share the burden, begin the journey toward forgiveness, but I didn’t want to atone.

Murder was a sin, but what that bastard had done was far worse. I felt no guilt, no shame—

“Aidan? It’s time to confess, boy.”

My nostrils flared at his demand.

That was how McKenna had reeled Conor in—priests had power over us. They were the only people who could make my da tremble at the knees. The police and the IRS didn’t do that, just the priests.

“I had dirty thoughts about Kitty Greaves,” I lied eventually.

Father Doyle grunted under his breath. “Is that all?”

I murdered one of your brethren and I wish I could do it again.

As he gave me my penance, I clenched my fists, and in God’s soapbox, I made a vow.

When my time came, when I sat in the seat of power, and reigned over the Five Points, this bullshit would come to an end.

We’d answer to no one.

Not even God himself.

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