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“Aye, it’s hard when you lose your husband,” Ma muses. “Maybe she needs some company.”
“She’s sticking close to Padraig.”
Her brow arches. “How close?”
“Ma, no gossiping about our boss’s mother and his uncle.”
She sniffs.
“Ma,” I warn.
“What?”
“We know you’re nose deep in the Old Wives’ Club.” The club of “old wives” who’d been widowed when their husbands had died in the line of Five Points’ duty.
Her blush gives her away. “There’s nothing wrong with getting together with women who know what you’ve been through—”
The outer door slams.
Not letting Ma finish her sentence, I run down the hall and toward the front door. Dragging it open, I spy Kitty and—
Thank fuck.
“Belle!”
She jerks in surprise, and when I catch sight of her tear-streaked face, guilt hits me.
I never expected to feel like this about her. She was a job, nothing more, but everything goes to shit around her—including my good intentions.
“Leave her alone, Cade. You’ve done enough damage,” Kitty snipes at me.
I glower at her. “Don’t start, Kitty. I know I fucked up but I offered to soundproof my apartment—”
“Soundproof your apartment?” Kitty shrieks, taking away my last hope that Bellehadn’toverheard my argument with Lucas. “You think that’s because you and Belle make more noise than cats in heat?
“Belle seems to think you’re going to force her to visit her father or something. Why you’d do that, I don’t know, and why the Five Points are involved, I don’t even want to know, but she looked like she was going to have a panic attack when I found her. So you can get on your knees and beg for forgiveness!” Kitty frowns and goes on. “You’re lucky I was in my running shoes and not my heels or you’d have lost her for good!”
Belle’s hand snaps out and rests on Kitty’s forearm. She squeezes her gently, her gaze locked on me, as she whispers, “You lied to me. You brought me here under false pretenses.”
“I’ll never put you in danger. I told you that upstairs and I meant it.” I know my voice is flat, but maybe if I keep this free from emotion, it’ll cut through her fear.
“Come with me, Belle. We’ll get you some tea and I’ll set you up in my spare bedroom—”
Though I scowl, I rub the back of my neck. “You can stay in Vinny’s place, Belle. You don’t need to stay in my apartment or Kitty’s. You can have your own space.”
She blinks. “Y-You’re not going to make me see my dad?”
Her words hit me on the raw. “I…”
Why haven’t I forced the issue with Aidan Jr.?
None of this was necessary. The moment I trusted my gut that Belle was genuinely scared of her father, I should have sorted this situation out.
But there’s no denying that Aidan Jr. is, as his father used to say when I was on his guard, “an apostle short of the Last Supper.”
Just last year, I watched Junior cut out the tongue of a Five Pointer who lied to him. That was nothing to watching him hang some Pointers from a fucking crane so every single one of his men could watch the traitors dance and know they’d be next if they messed up.
Not knowing what to say, only knowing that I have to act, I step forward, my hand outstretched. When she jerks back as if my touch is poisonous, I rasp, “I’ll make this right, Belle.”
