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Junior snorted, but aloud, he mused, “Surprised Da didn’t think something weird was going on.”
“You know he doesn’t wade into the men’s personal lives,” Finn remarked.
“But still.Sixdead wives?”
“Why didn’t he pick up on the stink when the notion of marrying Mary Catherine off to Murphy came up?” Aoife argued.
“You know how he gets when Ma’s like this. When she’s manic, he loses his shit. Since that last lockdown, she’s been nuttier than a bag of acorns.”
Still feeling guilty for sharing Digger’s secrets, I clutched at his hand. “Father gave me no choice. He told me Ihadto marry him.”
Junior frowned. “Da would never have forced you to marry someone decades older than you if you’d come to him. Did your asshole father say why he’d made the arrangement?”
“Does it fucking matter?” Digger snapped. “This ain’t the Dark Ages. Fathers don’t make decisions about their kids’ spouses anymore.”
“They do in the Irish mob. My brother’s due to get married to a daughter of the Bratva,” Junior said calmly, but his expression was anything but.
“The age gap is nothing on this though,” Finn muttered. “Twelve years or thirty-five.”
Aoife, who’d been chopping onions, shuddered. “Even worse when Murphy’s gross.”
Finn cast her a look. “It’d be okay if he was a hunk? I need to delete your kindle library.”
Aoife cackled. “You’d be the one who’d suffer if you did.”
That had the twinkle in his eye gleaming.
“And no, it wouldn’t be better if he was a hunk. I’m just saying it adds insult to injury.”
“Mary Catherine says Murphy would have forced the issue, Aidan,” Conor tacked on.
Junior frowned as he folded his arms across his chest. “How?”
Feeling even more mortified with Finn and Aidan Jr. watching me, I started stuttering, but Aoife saved me by answering, “Their first meeting, he’d have raped her to make sure she didn’t have a hymen anymore.
“Because, you know, the Irish mob values a sliver of skin and prioritizes that over a woman’s safety and believes that’s her only worth. How ridiculous,” she finished, her tone scathing.
At her sniff, Finn grimaced.
“You don’t know he’d have raped you,” Junior pointed out.
“I know it’s what happens,” I whispered. “Anthony Mulhearne did it to my best friend.”
“The Five Points are okay with allowing a rape culture to fester in their lower ranks, are they?” Digger sneered. “And you fuckers look down on bikers for being trash when you’re letting that kind of shit happen on the daily.”
Junior’s eyes narrowed. “You’re picking a fight with the wrong person.”
“Am I? Seems like you’re the one asking dumb questions to a member of your family who felt as if she were in physical danger.”
At that, Junior blinked. “You’re right. I’m an asshole.”
“Only took nearly four decades for you to admit it,” Conor mumbled.
Junior strode over to the dinner table and took a seat. His limp was more pronounced than ever, and when he sank onto the chair, the relief that filtered through his expression was raw and made me uncomfortable for him.
When he was settled, he released a heavy breath. “Da’s already contacted your Prez, demanding Mary Catherine’s return.”
“I know.”
