Page 33 of Filthy Truth


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“Does it bother you?” Guilt hit me. “I mean, we’ve taken over your house… I’m sorry about that.”

“It doesn’t bother me and you don’t have to say sorry. I’m used to it.” She took a sip of coffee. “I grew up an only, lonely child. There’s never any loneliness in the O’Donnelly family if you let them in.”

Her words had me biting my lip. “I grew up that way too. I wasn’t lonely, though, because of Savannah. Her folks and mine were…” My nose crinkled as I thought about their relationship. I was no prude, but I used to be bitter on my mom’s behalf. Now, I didn’t have a clue what to think or feel. “I’m not even sure, to be honest,” I admitted. “Maybe I’ll never understand their friendship unless I ask Lorelei and Dagger.

“I know that when we were in LA, we shared a compound and that in New York, our apartments were in the same building, so we were always close.

“I guess I know what family is, but I also understand that it’s nice being able to shut the door in their faces and not let them in when they piss you off.”

Aoife’s mouth curved at that, and she surprised me by hovering her fist in front of me to bump.

After, I picked up a third croissant, and this one, I loaded down with jam. Screw the saturated fats—I’d had sex for the first time in years and I’d seen the Milky Way.

It was a day for celebration.

“Is everything okay, Aoife?” I asked softly, watching her tear her own pastry apart but not actually eat any of it.

Clearly, I was in a good mood, but she wasn’t.

Smiling, she shook her head. “Everything’s fine.”

“Why do people do that?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“Shake their head in the negative but then speak in the affirmative… I’m thinking that’s a lie.”

Her eyes narrowed at me but she repeated firmly, “Everything’s fine.”

“If you say so.” I dismissed that as bullshit. “I’m assuming that whatever’s fine is something you can’t share with Finn?”

Her bottom lip got sucked in between her teeth. “You know a man called Dagda.”

It wasn't a question.

My hand, in the process of raising the croissant to my mouth, stilled. “Yes.”

“He’s my uncle. His name’s Eamonn—”

“Keegan.” I knew her maiden name was that too. “Are you sure you’re related?” I tested, trying not to get involved and crack open painful truths when I knew they were blood but wasn’t sure if she did.

She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

“How?”

A few taps on her screen, and she was handing me her cell.

Unknown Sender: Your mom can finally rest in peace now.

“You think Eamonn sent you that?”

“I received it after Aidan Sr. died.” Her gaze collided with mine. “I’m assuming it’s him.”

“Why?” I asked warily. I mean, I knew what had happened, but I assumed she didn’t.

Her eyes narrowed upon me. “I think you’ll be the only woman in the family who the men don’t try to keep in the dark.”

“I don’t think that’s something to be envious of,” I drawled, but I didn’t deny it—any of it.

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