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“Her name’s Star Sullivan.”
“That’s not an Irish first name. Who’s her father? Harry Sullivan?”
“We don’t live in Ireland,” I grumbled. “And no, her father isn’t Harry Sullivan. She isn’t tied to the mob. She’s…” Inspiration struck. “Savannah’s best friend.”
“Aidan’s Savannah?”
“Yes. She’s the daughter of one of Dagger’s bandmates.”
“Who?”
“The lead singer.”
“The one who shouted through all those songs you used to listen to?”
“He didn’t shout,” I groused. “But yes.”
“Is that how you met? Through Savannah?”
“No.”
“Then, how?”
I huffed. “Is this twenty questions?”
“No, but it can be if you want.”
“I don’t. Want, that is.” I frowned when Star snorted. “I met her through work.”
“You said she isn’t tied to the mob.”
“She isn’t!” I reached up and dug my fingers into my eyes. When I scented Star’s pussy on them, I smirked and let my hand fall to her belly which she immediately slapped away, seeming to know where I was taking this. I pouted at her glower and said, “She’s an ex-soldier.”
“Does Eoghan know her?”
“Does Eoghan know every soldier who ever served in the US Army, Ma? Christ Almighty,” I retorted even though I knew Eoghan had met her during his service.
“Don’t be blaspheming in front of me, Conor!”
“I’m not in front of you.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Da was the religious whack job, not you. What’s going on? Paddy isn’t practicing, is he? Giving you bad ideas?”
“Yes, bad ideas like good and evil, son,” she tutted. “I had an epiphany.”
“Between the last time I ate Sunday dinner with you and today?”
She sniffed. “Yes.”
“What was it?” I retorted.
“That I’ve not been leading a blameless life.”
My eyes flared wide at that. “No, Ma, you definitely haven’t.”
She ignored me, continuing, “And I’ve decided that I’m going to spend my remaining years doing what’s right by my sons.
