AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I didn’t say a word, but Aidan steamrolled on, “I know my father, and you know what, Finn? You know your father too. Think about it. Having a president in his pocket—that’s Da’s idea of a wet dream.
"But answering to some zealous motherfuckers with less sense than a gnat and more memory than an elephant?” He sniffed. “I hate the asshole most days, but even I think that he’s got more to him than that.”
I didn’t have the energy to argue, just told him, “Conor says the leader of the ECD ain’t in jail anymore.”
“Huh. Well, I don’t see what that changes. He’s been in jail for years, hasn’t he? Anyway, you want to bring this up with Da?”
“I don’t know.” I couldn’t trust him. Or could I?
“You know what’s funny?”
“There’s something funny about this shit show?” I sputtered in disbelief.
“Yeah. Remember last year when Da tried to get that law overturned about allotted airspace?”
My mind whirred. Manhattan airspace was as much of a premium as ground space. To build a skyscraper, you had to own the rights to not just the plot beneath a building, but above it too.
“Vaguely. We could only get the Danu building to sixty stories instead of the eighty Senior wanted because we couldn’t buy rights from anyone on that street.”
“Yeah. If Da does have the president in his fucking pocket, why didn’t he win? Why’s that law still active?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Davidson couldn’t do anything to change the law.”
“It’s fucking airspace. That’s gotta be federal.”
I blinked. “No, it’s a zoning law. That comes under city ordinance. Either way, there’d be something he could help with, and Davidson didn’t sound all that happy about his ties with the mob. Said he wasn’t a puppet.”
“That fits. Maybe he doesn’t play ball like Da wants. It’s not like Da wouldn’t blow his own horn if he had a president in his pocket. I think Davidson doesn’t do as he’s told…
“Wonder what that’s about and why Da lets him get away with it.” He heaved a sigh. “Shit, now you’ve got me thinking all kinds of conspiracies.”
“Me too,” I said tiredly.
“Finn, what’s going on with you? Aside from the crap you just told me, I mean. Where’s your head at?”
“I gotta tell Aoife some bad shit, Aidan. Some real bad shit. I don’t know if our marriage can survive it.”
“Jesus, what the fuck have you done?”
I could have confessed to him. Could have shared the burden, split the load, but I didn’t deserve that.
Sucking in a breath, I told him, “I can’t tell you. Yet. She deserves to know first.”
Aidan muttered, “Must be bad if you won’t tell me.”
“Yeah.” I swallowed. “But I gotta share that shit about her mom being killed because of her dad as well…”
“I’ll see you on the other side,deartháir.Later, I’ll need answers, okay? You get away with this no asking questions bullshit now, but not tomorrow. Hear me?”
The words were simple, but they were genuine.
“Thanks, Aidan.”
“No need to thank me. Tell me how it goes.”
It wasn’t a request.
“I will.”
If I fucking survived it.
Every marriage had a defining moment. My father’s and Lena’s had been defined by the rolling pin incident. I just prayed that Aoife didn’t have nefarious plans with a cookie cutter and my balls.
If she did, I’d take whatever she doled out though.
It was the least I deserved.
