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I'd seen her crying herself to sleep, had watched it and felt like my heart was being shattered by a sledgehammer, and that was when I went home.
Even if it was just for a sixty-minute power nap.
It was also why I'd encouraged Aoife to call her to get her out of the apartment today.
Savvie was strong, but the strongest faltered from time to time too. I’d long since come to terms with my mortality, and I knew last December had helped her embrace the fact she wouldn’t live forever, but throw in Da’s death, her mom’s health issues, plus Star’s disappearance, and it was no wonder she was up in her head about these things.
Breaking off from her Sparrow investigation—read obsession—might do her some good.
Though this was good timing, that didn't alleviate my suspicions.
"Why now, Grainne?"
"Have you heard of a man called Miles Monroe?"
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw.
"And this is where your omnipotent act falters, Aidan. You can't know everything," she drawled. "It's impossible."
"I never pretended to know everything about the world," I snapped. "There are billions of fucking people that I don’t have a connection with. I'm just saying that the ones who matter to me are of adequate interest for me to keep tabs on."
She sniffed her disdain of my argument. "Miles Monroe used to live in the city before he headed for greener pastures in Jersey."
"Okay, what about him?"
"He became a church deacon, which, trust me, is insane considering the shit he's into—"
"He was a client?"
"He was. A personal one. Back before I stopped all that and began running Queens of Heart."
As her words waned, her silence told a tale of its own. "He's the bastard who beat you and left you for dead?"
"Where you found me," she concurred. "It's always interesting to me how you saved me, and you didn't even know it. You had no idea how you shaped my life without realizing what you did that night."
"What did I do?" I asked cautiously.
"You took a hooker and made her into the city's madam. That might not seem like a graduation for some, but trust me, I never expected to get this far.
"Aidan Sr. might have built this club for me, and he might have used it for his own gains, but my loyalty wasn't aimed at him."
"It wasn't?" I queried warily.
"No. It was for you. The kid who didn't know who the fuck I was, who acted against explicit instructions, and who helped me anyway." She hummed again. "I heard him tell you to get away from me. I heard him order you back to the car.
"But you, and it was Conor, I think, you insisted, and you shamed him."
"I think you're wrong," I said gruffly. "I think realizing you were Frank's..."
She snorted. "No. He didn't like me when I was with Frank, and he sure as hell wouldn't have liked finding me naked in a back alley.
"If you hadn't been there, I'm pretty sure he'd have shot me and would have considered it an act of mercy." Her laughter was cold. "But I have to admit, the old bastard still managed to surprise me."
Uncertain where she was going with this, I asked, "What did he do?"
"Before he died, he left me a gift. I only got it today."
"What was it?"
