Page 226 of Filthy Feck


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“This is Star,” he greeted. Aoife and I shared a smile. Hers was polite but not unwelcoming, and mine was strained. “That’s D—” He paused. “Cin.”

“Cin?” Aoife’s frown deepened. “Is it ‘D’ or Cin? People tend to have the same initial, Conor.”

“I’m Cin. D is my nickname. But it’s for people I’ve kicked ass with.”

“Oh.” The other woman blinked. “You’re like Eoghan. Come in.” What kind of family was I about to walk into when ‘handles’ were dinner table conversation and an ice breaker?

I guessed inviting spies into her house was totally an everyday occurrence for Aoife O’Grady.

As I approached her, I felt incredibly underdressed in a tank and a pair of jeans with some slimline leather boots, whereas she wore a wraparound dress in a rich green that highlighted her curves and augmented her bright red hair. She was dressed comfortably, but affluently. Whereas I was wearing mechanic chic in the form of jeans from Carhartts and a Target special wife beater—hey, in my world, peopleleaked. I couldn’t exactly go around like I was dressed for a cocktail party.

Holding out a hand, I murmured, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Same.” She darted a glance at Conor. “I know he’s been waiting a long time to meet you, but I’d just like to tell you that—” Her smile was sweet as saccharine. “—if you ever hurt him, you might be some ninja spy, but there are five women in this house who will make you regret the day you were born.”

“Aoife!” Conor argued. “You don’t need to protect my honor!”

“Like you don’t protect ours,” she countered, lifting a brow at him.

Unoffended, I patted Conor’s stomach and reassured him, “You deserve to be loved, Conor, and you deserve to have people at your back.” To Aoife, I merely answered, “I won’t hurt him any more than necessary.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that life sucks,” was my simple reply to her huffy demand. “And I know you know that better than anyone.” As her nostrils flared with annoyance at the direct hit, I continued, “I have no desire to hurt him, but I can’t control what happens around us. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life—we don’t control our futures.”

She studied me with narrowed eyes but tipped her chin in understanding. “Welcome to my home.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. You need to watch Cin. She might look as skinny as a wraith but she can pack away a tray of brownies in under ten minutes.”

Aoife’s eyes widened at that news, then she threw at Conor, “Finn told me to tell you to take her to his man cave. Your brothers are waiting in there for you.”

When she bustled down the hall, intent on saving her dessert from my ravenous friend, I noticed Savannah waiting at the end of it, her arms crossed against her chest as she stared me down, a stiletto-clad toe tapping against the wooden floor.

Turning to Conor, I murmured, “I’ll join you after I speak with her, okay?”

“Get her to show you Finn’s man cave?”

I nodded then grabbed a tighter hold of his hand when he made to separate our fingers. “Do you have any candy with you?”

Though he frowned in concern because I was confirming that life was a touchbitterat the moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a Jolly Rancher. After he passed it to me, he pressed a kiss to my temple and soothed, “She’ll forgive you.”

The question was, did I deserve to be forgiven?Thatwas the source of my unease.

While I gave him another nod, I didn’t say anything other than, “Thank you.”

Deep in Conor’s core was a streak of kindness that, I believed, was inherent in most things family-related. For some reason, he’d brought me into that fold and that was why, though I’d committed unforgivable acts against the O’Donnellys, he didn’t hold it against me.

As for Savannah, she wasn’t kind.

She was a bitch.

I loved her, but still, I knew what she was.

Just like she knew what I was—an asshole.

Out of nowhere, the theme tune fromThe Good, The Bad, and The Uglysounded, and I grumbled, “Fuck off, Cin.”

Her cackle was the last I heard of her as I unwrapped the candy and popped it between my lips.

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