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“How the hell did you keep that from me?” He smacked his forehead. “I should have known. I always thought you looked the spitting image of Frank, Finn.”
“I thought you and Ma had an arranged marriage,” Conor demanded.
“More like anarrangement,” Padraig muttered.
“Look, this isn’t about me,” Aidan retorted. “I screwed up, I know I did, and I’ve repented and Lena probably added to my brain damage but I didn’t pretend to be fucking dead. I didn’t—” He shook his head. “You mean to tell me that the Albanians were in on it? They had to be for me to butcher Jurkavic the way I did.”
“They had a problem and so did I.”
“They bribed you?” Aidan guessed, tone flat.
“Needed the money to set up elsewhere,deartháir.”
“Don’t give me that ‘deartháir’ bullshit when you’ve pretended to be dead for almost three decades!
“Not when you could have just told me what was happening, and I’d have slapped Byrne upside the head. If you fucking knew the shit you’d have spared me if you’d have come to me—” He slammed his hand against the table. “You used that as a reason to get out. You never did have the stomach for our work.”
Paddy snapped, “I had your back from the first day I was thrown into the Points. Don’t you dare—”
“Is it really a bad thing not to have the stomach for murdering and killing and torturing?” Eoghan questioned before he sank down some whiskey. “I don’t think that’s the worst crime, Da.”
“He was supposed to reign by my side, goddammit,” Senior snarled, and I wasn’t surprised when his fist went flying and it collided with the mirror behind his desk. Fist bleeding, knuckles bloodied, that didn’t even stop him as he hissed, “Leave us, sons—”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Junior rasped.
“You’ll kill each other,” I agreed.
“It’s okay, boys. Leave us be. If he wants to beat on me, then he can. I don’t give a fuck. I just need to get Liam home.” His eyes collided with Junior then Conor, and whatever they saw within his gaze had them getting to their feet.
“Come on,” Junior urged.
Conor started for the door. “Let’s leave them to it.”
Shaking my head, I followed them, as did Declan, Brennan, and Eoghan. As we left the room, leaving the brothers to duke it out, Brennan grumbled, “Well, that was informative.”
“Wonder why there aren’t any pictures of Ma at a debutante ball?” Conor mused.
“Probably because Senior stole her before they could photograph her,” I muttered.
“He’s your da too,” Conor pointed out. “You can call him that.”
My brow furrowed. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
He was the one who asked, but I knew I was at the center of their attention.
Uncomfortable, I retorted, “Because he’s been Senior a lot longer than he’s been my father.”
“He’s always treated you like family,” Declan pointed out softly. “Hell, most of the time, he was nicer to you than he ever was to me.”
Though I cringed, I couldn’t deny that was the truth. “You always did get the short end of the stick.”
“The short, pointy end,” Declan groused.
“No arguing with that,” Brennan agreed with a sigh.
“Anyway, we have a problem.”
