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Interesting.
“About?” Troy peppered.
Curious about where he was taking this when his ma was the one who’d killed Michelle Keegan, not his father, I waited for him to explain.
“Does it matter?” he grumbled. “This has nothing to do with our current situation.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Whatever led each of us to this point is pertinent to our current situation.”
He huffed. “Dagda is the head of the ECD.”
“Those IRA psychos that take extremism to the nth degree?”
“Those are the ones,” I confirmed.
“Now you get involved,” he groused at me. “When Dagda was in prison, he maintained his position in the ECD, but a Five Pointer, a guy we trusted, wanted to take over the group. Da helped him.”
“And they used his sister as leverage?”
“Yeah,” Conor lied.
“Huh. You know, the first family get-together needs to be televised because I have to watch this showdown.”
“Shut up, Troy,” I retorted, uncomfortable with her mockery because I’d had a part in causing this chaos and it was only coming to light because of my meddling.
Plus, I’d inadvertently shit in my own bed because they were my family now.
Conor had opened his arms to me no matter what I’d done in the past and he’d offered me acceptance.
I already knew that I was a moron—this just confirmed it.
She heaved a sigh, but thank God she stayed quiet because, suddenly, his lies made sense.
For whatever reason, Dagda believed that Aidan Sr. was behind his sister’s murder, not Lena O’Donnelly, and seeing as his da was dead and his ma wasn’t, Conor obviously wanted to perpetuate the lie.
As silence fell among us again, I let my mind drift onto the topic of the moment—not by one iota did I believe that my mother was alive, but maybe Conor was right. Talking with Dagda might be the one thing I’d never had until now.
Closure.
I’d never found any justification for her death, and that made sense. If it was a Jorgmundgander operation and her identity was as wiped as the snakes could make it, the only person with some answers was the man who pulled the trigger.
Maybe closure was why Conor could forgive me?
He had that with his da’s passing.
His father, never a man to accept anyone controlling his fate, had died on his own terms…
“Okay.” When Conor shot me a quick look, I stated, “I’ll see Dagda.”
“I’ll let Finn know you want to speak with him.”
“Why Finn?”
“He’ll tell us when Dagda wakes up and is able to talk.” He laid his hand on my knee this time.
The gesture went deeper than he could imagine.
I didn’t know if I’d have been able to forgive me for my trespasses against his family, but maybe that was just proof Conor was a better person than I was.
