Page 102 of Filthy Truth


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“Liam’s a good boy—”

“Sure he is,” I drawled. “He’s a professional athlete. They never get into any trouble.”

Conor chuckled. “She has a point. The Rabid Wolves deal drugs. Has Liam started using?”

Paddy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “No.”

“Convincing,” I mocked.

“After the kidnapping, he’s gotten paranoid. Understandable but… he bought a gun from them and they’re holding that over him.”

Conor heaved a sigh. “Why didn’t he ask us to procure one for him?”

“He doesn’t like talking to me. You know that.”

Even as I wondered what had triggered a falling out between father and son, I scoffed, “He talked to you about this.”

Paddy conceded that with a grimace. “Desperate times. His words, not mine.”

Ouch.

“He could have bought a gun the legal way. Why go to some shady MC when you have a legitimate reason to be paranoid?”

“Not this type of gun,” he muttered. “Gun laws are stricter across the border.”

“Rightfully so,” I sniped.

“Didn’t think you’d have that opinion,” was Conor’s surprised retort.

“I’m full of contradictions.”

“You said it, not me,” he said with a snort. To his uncle, he asked, “What does Liam think I can do?”

“Make up a gun permit for him for the weapon. Or get the Rabid Wolves off his back.”

“I can do that,” I offered. “They do runs with the Sinners. I’ve got plenty of dirty laundry of theirs I can air. You’ll deal with the permit?”

Conor nodded. “The Mounties face the Maple Leafs next week if memory serves?”

“Yeah. Thursday,” Paddy answered.

“We’ll sort it.”

Paddy flicked a glance between Conor and me. “Thank you. I know he’ll appreciate it. He offered to come down himself but figured it was best to stay on the down-low.”

I grunted. “Tell him he owes Conor a fruit basket.”

“A fruit basket?”

“As a ‘thank you.’”

He blinked. “Oh. Sure. Wouldn’t you prefer cake, Conor? I know how much you love sweet treats, and I don’t mean fruit.”

“Candy would be great. I have to share mine now,” he said, the teasing tone for me alone.

I nudged him with my elbow then watched as Paddy split another look between us. “She the one, Con? That’s why she’s wearing my ma’s cameo?”

“She’s the one,” he agreed, sliding his arm around my shoulders.

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