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Da’s voice might sound collected, but I heard the throb of anger within it as he intoned, “I made a deal with Michael, sure, but if he wanted guards, then he should have gotten hischeilefriends to look after him. I’m not his nanny, Elizabeth.”
“You mean you don’t know where he is?”
Frowning at the question, I wondered why she was asking now. Michael had been dead for six months. I’d know. I was the one who’d delivered him to his maker.
Da had never mentioned Michael, his illness, death, and/or funeral, which left me thinking Ma hadn’t told him what had gone down. Maybe he even thought the man was still alive?
All Da knew was that Aoife had found out about Ma killing her mom and that was why they didn’t come around anymore.
Ma must have stepped in at some point though. Da wasn’t the kind of man you said ‘no’ to. She must have stopped him from demanding Finn, Aoife, and Jake show up on Sundays.
Shoving that thought away, I had to ask myself if Da really didn’t know Michael was dead yet.
This was confusing as fuck.
“I didn’t say that I didn’t know where Michael is, now did I? Funny how you’re calling me. Someone whispered something in my ear recently about the pair of you.
“Imagine how surprised I was to find out you and Michael had a thing going. Wonder what the president would have to say about that…”
There was silence down the other end of the line. “Do you, or do you not know where Michael is?”
“Even funnier that this is the first time you’ve asked about him. His cancer’s terminal,”Da droned. “Thought hislittlewomanwould care about that.”
“We had a falling out,”Elizabeth bit off. “He’s supposed to be in a hospice, but there are no records of him—”She hissed under her breath. “Where is he, Aidan?”
“Information like that comes at a price,”Da taunted, leaving me wondering if someone had betrayed me. Had they told Da that I’d dealt with Michael? Or was this all BS?
Seeing as the man was fish food, there was no way my father could know his exact whereabouts, but when Elizabeth Davidson didn’t bite, Da drawled, “I’ll be at Greenwood Cemetery at three. I’ll meet you at my brother’s grave.”He gave her directions on how to reach it. “If you want answers, I’ll see you there. And don’t even think about bringing your guards along.”
“How am I supposed to get away from them?”she snapped.
“Not my problem. You want to know whereloverboyis, you know where to find me.”
I cast a look at the clock, and seeing that it was two-thirty, bit off, “Shit.” Before I could call Aidan, though, I got another alert on my phone.
A flurry of static images popped up on my screen. I set them to shuffle on a loop so they played like a moving picture.
Star.
My brows rose at the sight of her in my apartment. A part of me was mad, another part wondered why she looked so fucking right in there.
As the images played, I saw her head to the only computer that wasn’t connected to the internet and watched as she attached a thumb drive to one of the USB ports.
As she copied the hard drive, she grabbed something from the desk, picked up a pen, then started writing something on it.
She dropped the paper on my desk, took a photo, tapped her screen a few times, then tossed the note into the trash.
After, she retrieved the thumb drive then got to her feet where she pressed her hand to my chair, presenting me with a shot where she stood there, her eyes closed.
That hurt me more than anything she’d just done.
Her regret was real.
Raw.
Just like mine was.
She didn’t have to do that.
