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Crouched on the floor like a rodent, shoulders hunched, fear of exposure making my stomach churn as I wondered where I’d spend the night, where I’d get my next meal—
It was then I knew I’d prefer to be back on the streets, to be without a home, to be without my family, rather than keep another lie from my wife.
She deserved so much fucking more from me than what I’d given her. I’d chosen family ties over her, a family that had taken me in when I was at my lowest, who’d given me a future—even if that was splattered with blood. They’d been my foundation, and that was why I’d sided with them. But Aoife was my heart. My soul—
“O’Grady?”
I heard the president barking in my ear, and it brought me back to the moment.
No longer was I sitting in a dirty alley that reeked of desperation, where the stench of trash was prevalent. I was in my office, the air redolent with some lavender and oat spray that Aoife insisted would make me calmer at work.
Blinking at the thought, I had to smile.
The only thing that would make me calmer at work was if they pumped Valium through the air conditioning.
But that was Aoife. Always thinking of me...and here I was, continually letting her down.
“Yeah?” I rasped when Davidson growled my name again.
“You don’t have to tell her.”
“I do.”
I really did.
I had to tell her everything.
And rather than scaring the shit out of me, the notion came with relief. Like a bolder had been removed from between my shoulders. Like the truth was a key to a door that had been locked between Aoife and me for years.
“You don’t. What good will it do, her knowing that her mother was killed for political gain?”
“Because she has a right to understand the puzzle pieces of her past that have brought her to this point.” I sucked in a breath, letting the rightness in my words resonate.
I needed to go home.
Now.
I got to my feet and told him, “If you ever want a relationship with your daughter—”
His answer was immediate. “I do. I want nothing more.”
“Nothing more? And you dumped her like she was nothing?”
A snarl sounded down the line, and I jolted in surprise because unless Davidson had a fucking lion in the Oval Office with him, he’d made that sound. “You think I wanted that? People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that you should look at your own people if you want to understand why I made the choices I did.”
“The hell are you talking about?” I demanded, brow puckered with complete confusion.
“My family sold its soul to the O’Donnellys a long time ago, O’Grady. I got here with their help too. It was a bipartisan effort,” he mocked. “The second she started associating with you was the second I had to back away because I couldn’t raise attention to the ties between us.
"What the Five Points want, they fucking get. My family owed them a president, and they got one. Doesn’t mean they have to like what I am.”
“You’re telling me the Five Points helped you get into office?” I rumbled.
“That’s what I’m telling you.” He let out a scornful laugh. “I’m not surprised Aidan Sr. doesn’t boast about having a president in his pocket though. I’m not like my father. I’m not a puppet that’ll dance to the Irish Mob’s tune—”
