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Conor’s phone rang. “Jesus Christ, Aoife.”
She just smirked at him.
“What do you want?” Conor complained into his cell. “No, you can’t come up. I’ll send your wife down, though.” He paused. “I thanked her for the pie.”
“He didn’t!” Aoife called out, even though I knew that was a bald-faced lie.
“I did!” Conor huffed. “Fine. Okay. Shut up about it. I’ll thank her when we cut— Jes— Fuck off, Finn. I’ll text you the entry code. Oh, screw—” He scowled. “He disconnected the call.”
“Probably didn’t appreciate you cursing at him like a sailor,” Aoife preached as she wandered past me to the elevator, clearly waiting on her man to make an appearance.
Conor, grumbling all the while, retreated to the kitchen. I tugged on Digger’s hand and urged him to follow.
“Are they always like this?”
“I don’t know them well enough to say, but I know whenever they’re together, they’re always bickering,” I said in a whisper.
“Even Finn O’Grady?”
“You know him?”
“Baby, my name’s Digger, remember? No secrets with me around.”
“Oh, you should get along well with Conor then,” Aoife chirped from over by the elevator. “Never asked him a question he can’t answer.”
I cast her a look and smiled gratefully at her before I tugged on Digger’s hand again and dragged him into the kitchen.
“Finn and Aidan Jr. are best friends,” I whispered. “Finn is like a foster son to the O’Donnellys.”
“I knew the former but not the latter,” Digger confirmed.
“Da covered up most things about Finn when he was a teenager, and I compounded that sodiggeror not, he’s a hard man to trace,” Conor informed us as we made it into his kitchen. “Want a sandwich?”
That grabbed Digger’s attention. “What you offering?”
“Fried bologna.”
“Leave it,” Aoife called. “I’ll make everyone something to eat while you plan. Otherwise, your arteries will clog forever.”
“Works every time,” he whispered at me, moving around the counter to the table just as Finn and… oh, jeez, Aidan Jr. entered the room. Conor frowned at his older brother. “What are you doing here?”
I barely knew Finn, and while I was better acquainted with Aidan, everyone knew since the drive-by shooting at Aoife and Finn’s wedding that had seen Junior’s leg shattered into a million pieces, he wasalwaysbiting someone’s head off.
“What a welcome,” Junior intoned.
“I don’ttryto be welcoming.”
“Like I didn’t know that already.” Aidan looked at me. “Hello, Mary Catherine. You’ve had us worried.”
Embarrassed, I ducked my head. “I’m sorry, Aidan. I didn’t mean to—”
“Yes, you did,” Conor corrected. “With good reason. Aidan, if she hadn’t run off and gone to the Sinners, she’d have ended up with Bill Murphy of all asswipes.”
“Bill Murphy?” Junior repeated. “Isn’t he like ninety or something?”
“If only he’d be so close to death’s door,” Digger rumbled.
“Oh, yeah, Digger’s Murphy’s kid. He raped his mom.”
