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“You’re such a fucking know-it-all,” I groused, relieved that he was going to let it drop.
“Nah, I don’t shove it in your face.”
“That supposed to make it better?”
“Nope.”
“Con?”
“Yeah?”
“That Lodestar woman. She’s the one?”
“Yup.”
“Does she know it?”
“Nah. Not yet. I’m gentling her.”
My brows rose. “Gentling her? She ain’t a horse.”
“Never said she was,” he countered. “She’s been through a lot of shit, Finn.”
“Haven’t we all?”
“No. Worse than us.”
“Both of us are child sexual abuse survivors, Conor,” I pointed out, dragging it up when I hadn’t meant to. “You’re telling me what she went through is worse than that?”
“Da killed your rapist. My elder brothers killed mine. Our family came around us and showed us that we mattered enough to decimate those fuckers who dared hurt us.”
“No one did that for her?”
“No. No one. She was on her own. But she ain’t anymore.”
“You… Do you…” For a second, my tongue wouldn’t work, but of course, Kid helped me out.
“Do I forgive you for telling Da about Father McKenna?”
I could feel my goddamn Adam’s apple bob. “Yeah.”
“I dunno. I’m ambivalent about it. They were acting weird around Christmas, but they’re getting a bit more normal. I don’t want to talk about it with them, and I don’t think they do either.”
“Does that… do you wish they would? Isn’t it like the elephant in the room?”
“No. Maybe I should want to, but I don’t.” He cleared his throat. “You think Aoife will come to Sunday dinner?”
“Doubt it. Why?”
“I don’t want her to cut ties with us. I’ll miss her.”
An ache brewed in my chest. It had jack shit to do with a heart attack and everything to do with that fucking need I had, that we all had, to protect Conor. To shelter him.
“Maybe you should tell her that, Kid. Maybe that’s what she needs to hear.”
Conor just grunted.
“I wouldn’t expect her tomorrow,” I said cautiously.
