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"At the start, sure. She was a smart girl," he mocked. "Funny how she became the only person who could control him in the end, no?"
I turned to look at him. "I doubt she controlled him."
"All she had to do was burst into tears and he'd have done anything to stop her sadness.
"If you cry, I wonder what Junior will do to stop your tears from falling..."
I wasn't sure why his questions agitated me.
I liked Paddy. Since his reincarnation, he'd attended many Sunday lunches and had even visited us for a few dinners because Aidan was his godson.
I hadn't seen him for a while before the funeral because he'd been in Canada with his son, Liam, during the NHL off-season.
But there was no reason for him to get under my skin. He was perfectly affable.
Maybe it was because I'd rubbed said skin raw in the shower so I was touchier than usual.
Turning my focus back to the screen, I watched as the cameras followed Aidan and his brothers through the factory.
"I think New York is in danger only if I am. He's not like his father. He does what he has to do, and he doesn't enjoy it."
Paddy hummed, but before I could snap at him to know what that meant because his hum soundeddubious, Conor hooted. "Yes! Fixed. Gotcha, you little bastard."
The screen’s resolution cleared up dramatically and suddenly we were graced with Anthony's screaming in full surround sound.
"You sure he doesn't always enjoy it?" Paddy asked me dryly.
My lips pursed. "Like I said, Aidan responds to me being in danger. Why are you asking these goddamn questions anyway? I don't need a social commentary on my husband's nature."
"I want you to recognize what's about to happen. You shouldn't see this—"
I turned on him. "Anthony was involved in a plot that could have resulted in our deaths. I doubt they'd have let us die without some torture first, and let's face it, women always get raped, don't they? It's what men do to punish us." I sneered at him. "Anthony deserves what's coming to him."
"Is that why you want to watch?"
"No. I want to know what he confesses to."
"Why? Aidan will take care of it."
"Leave her alone, Paddy," Conor muttered, his fingers tapping now that he was back at his keyboard. "She ain't like Ma and she ain't like any of the other women, either. Savvie likes to be kept in the know."
Paddy shrugged. "Just trying to protect her."
"I don't need protecting," I sniped. Then, guilt hit me because hewasfamily. It wasn’t his fault that he was kind and I wasn’t used to that coming without a price tag. "But thank you for trying."
His lips twisted, but he just shrugged again. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
My nails dug into my palms as I watched Aidan and Anthony, who left a trail of blood in his wake, while they entered a room that appeared to be set up for the explicit purpose of torture.
"God, it's been years since I saw that crucifix."
My eyes widened at Paddy's nostalgic tone. I didn't say anything, though, because I didn't need him asking me more questions.
I just fastened myself in for the most fucked-up ride of my life.
Did what happened next change how I viewed Aidan?
Maybe.
