I just said, “Sure, but every time you get into a fight, you’re changing lanes. You’re coming into my world, and you don’t want that. These are your reminder.” I gave him the pen and the ring. “You can use the pen at school and wear the ring. They’re what’ll keep you on the straight and narrow. That’ll take you wherever you want to go.” I studied the gun. “This will only get you deeper into shit and will take you away from your goals. It’s up to you what you want, but you can’t have all three gifts. You have to decide. Now.”
Though he was scowling, I knew my kid’s brain was faster than a whippet around a dog track. When he pocketed the pen and slipped on the ring, relief hit me hard enough to fucking wind me.
“You can keep the gun, Dad.”
I smiled at him though I felt like goddamn crying. “I think that’s the wise choice, son.”
He pulled a face. “You really can’t do anything about Mom?”
“I’ll put in a good word for you. That’s about as much as I can promise.”
“I told you about the skylight,” he commented.
“That’s for her sake. This place is safe. She’ll be safe working here. Cameron will probably have a nursery in this very room. You want them to be on secured grounds, don’t you?”
Shame had his shoulders hunching. “Of course I do.”
“If the skylight’ll make her happy, then that’s for the good, isn’t it?”
“Sorry, Dad. You’re right.”
I got to my feet, and after he did, I leaned my arm on his shoulder. “I usually am. Just don’t tell your mom that.”
When he laughed, I smiled and squeezed him as I guided him out of the door and, hopefully, down a different path than the one he’d started to take.
“We all have choices in this life, Shay,” I told him softly as we headed for the exit. “You’re going to get hit with plenty of them soon enough.
“Drugs and pussy and all kinds of shit you shouldn’t get involved in. Think about that future you want before you do anything dumb. One mistake and that’s it. That future could be gone, but we won’t be gone. No matter how hard you fuck up, your mom and I will be here. Okay?”
He peered up at me. “You mean that?”
“I do.”
His smile was all O’Donnelly. “Thanks, Dad.”
“No problem, son.” I squeezed him again before I let him go to lock up the workshop. “Get into the car,” I told him, even as I grabbed my cellphone and shot out a message to one of the contractors we used to get a goddamn skylight installed ASAP.
Who was pussywhipped around here? Not me, that was for fucking sure.
Declan: You were right.
Finn: Of course I was.
Finn: About what?
Declan: You’re such an ass.
Finn: I try. What was I right about this time?
Declan: He didn’t go for the gun.
Finn: Oh. Good. I’m glad.
Declan: You’re not going to shove it in my face?
Finn: No. I had a feeling he’d reject the gun, but you never know.
Declan: No, you don’t.
Finn: He’s a good kid, Dec. Adjusting to a new baby in the house is bound to be hard.
Declan: I don’t want him to be like us.
Finn: He won’t be.
Finn: How’s Cameron?
Declan: Great.
Finn: How’s Seamus with him?
Declan: Great.
Finn: So maybe there’s no reason he keeps getting into fights other than the fact he’s surrounded by a bunch of jackasses at school?
Declan: Yeah. That could be it.
Finn: You know what it means that you’re worrying about him?
Declan: What?
Finn: That you’re an awesome dad.
Declan: You think so?
Finn: I know so.
Fifty-Seven
Finn
“Goddammit,” Aidan hissed as he plunked his ass down on an armchair in the living room.
“When’s your next physio session?” I questioned, pressing the bottle of beer to my lips and swigging some down.
“Tomorrow.” He grunted as he laid his leg out in front of him. “It’s getting better. Today’s just not a good day.”
On the brink of answering, I arched a brow as the door opened and Conor swaggered in with a bottle of beer and his diamanté cat. “Where’s Jake?”
“Why?”
“He likes the cat. I brought him the cat.”
“To keep?”
Kid hesitated. “On loan.” He peered around the living room. “I can’t believe you’re still staying in a hotel suite. It’s a good thing you’re a billionaire.”
“Aoife likes it.” That was all that mattered. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it was what she needed until I could find the right place for us. “And Jake’s in bed.” When he swiveled on his heel, I barked, “Conor, if you wake him up, I will shove this beer bottle where the sun doesn’t shine. It took me three hours to get him down. Three.”
“We’re dealing with a man on the edge,” Aidan said with a laugh. “Don’t mess with him, Kid.”
Conor huffed as he dumped the cat by the door then strolled over to us. “He’s always asleep when I visit.”
“Stop by earlier, and don’t pout.” I shot him a withering glance.
“It was easier when you lived opposite me,” he grumbled.
“Tough.” I turned to Junior. “You sure your knee’s getting better?”
“Oh, for sure. It’s painful, but not like before the surgery.”
“You don’t want to shoot up?” Kid inquired.
“No, Conor, I don’t want to shoot up,” Aidan said on an impatient sigh.
“You sure? Finn and I will gladly sit on you again.”
My lips curved as I raised my beer bottle to Kid. “Ain’t that the truth.”
He smirked, took a sip of beer, then asked, “Did Lodestar funnel that information to Savannah?”
Aidan angled himself toward Conor. “The bank account shit?”
Savannah had recently published an article that exposed the five banks where the Sparrows held accounts. Some CEOs and CFOs had resigned over the last couple days.
With no money, and fewer men in positions of power, the Sparrows were no longer just dying, they were on the brink of extinction.
As for our other problem—those cheile bastards—it had been all quiet on the Western Front.
“Yeah. The bank account shit,” Conor confirmed. “Did Lodestar give her the data?”
“Of course. Why?”
Conor scratched his chin. “She’s gone quiet on me.”
Brennan and Declan sauntered in, Dec carrying a baby, Brennan two bottles of beer.
“Who’s gone quiet on you?” Declan asked.
“Lodestar.” He stared down at his own drink. “I’m starting to get worried.”
“You know where she lives, right?” Brennan pointed out. “Just go visit.”
His eyes rounded. “Go visit her?”
Declan snorted. “Con, she’s with the Sinners, not the Romulans on Angel One.”