Page 161 of Filthy Truth


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“We’re not that goddamn old,” Aidan argued.

“Speak for yourself, Grandpa,” Eoghan retorted, making me chuckle and prompting a huff out of Aidan.

He studied me though. Long and hard. Another woman would probably have been nervous, but I just arched a brow at him and stared right back.

“Is this a staring contest anyone can join?” Declan inserted.

Aidan’s voice was a croak as he admitted, “I want to right old wrongs.”

“What kind of old wrongs?” I prodded.

“The church is corrupt. Our governments are corrupt. If we can’t rely on the church or the fucking state, who can we call upon?”

“The Irish Mob?” Eoghan drawled.

Just as Conor mocked, “Batman?”

Though the others snickered, I didn’t. I just nodded. “You believe Shay has a vision for a better future?”

“He’s a kid. He’s busy fucking his socks so he doesn’t get spunk everywhere—”

“Jesus, Aidan,” Declan spluttered, spraying scotch in every direction.

“But he’s got more about him than we did as kids,” Aidan continued like Declan hadn’t interrupted. “He cares. About so much shit. The climate, the state of the country, racial injustices, women’s rights…

"You ask him about something that’s going on in the papers, and he’s in there, ready to debate, caring so fucking much about this godforsaken world that it makes me hurt just to look at him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever given that much of a damn about anything outside of Savvie and my family, but he’s feeling all that about—”

A knock sounded at the door.

Each of our heads whipped to the side.

“Who is it?” Finn called out, proving that Aidan might be Manhattan’s filthy king, but he didn’t rule this particular roost.

The door popped open. “It’s me.” Shay grinned as he peered through the gap he made. When he saw the serious expressions, he blinked. “I-I… Sorry. I’ll come back later—”

“Seamus, is Kat okay?”

“Yeah, she’s watching a movie about pants that these girls share.” His nose crinkled. “I don’t know why they just don’t buy their own.”

Hiding a smile, I explained, “It’s a coming-of-age story.”

If anything, that perplexed him even more. “Okay,” he drawled, extending the ‘ay’ sound.

“Son, come on in,” Declan invited, patting the cushion on the couch next to him.

Shay frowned. “Am I in trouble? I only came in because Aunt Aoife wanted me to tell you dinner will be ready soon.”

“Thanks, son. We just, we wanted to talk to you about things.”

“Things? If it’s about my grade in gym class, the coach has it in for me—”

“He still giving you shit because he wants you on the track team and you keep refusing?”

Grimacing, Shay nodded at Brennan’s question. “I don’t have time with my other extracurriculars.”

“Understandable,” Aidan conceded.

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