“What about you?” Dead To Me asked.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I don’t sleep at all. Or hardly anything will wake me up. Either or.”
“Did you hear that Dagda was out of jail?”
My brows rose at Eagle Eyes’ out of the blue statement. “He is? Jesus. He’s been inside for nearly thirty years, hasn’t he?”
“Yeah. They said it was because Russia and the UK brokered a deal, but I don’t know if I believe that,” Dead To Me murmured. “Not considering his ties.”
“We’ll need that sniper’s union soon,” Eagle Eyes predicted glumly. “You know he’s got the best eye of us all.”
“He did. Until he got tortured,” I pointed out. “Not sure getting old in jail will have kept his skill levels up.”
Eagle Eyes grunted, but it was Dead To Me who asked us both, “Are you still in the country? I’m not.”
“No.”
“I am,” I replied. “Four more days.”
Dead To Me hummed under her breath. “Is that wise?”
“Probably not,” I said dryly. “But I’m in another county so I’m away from the heat. If you find anything out, put us in the loop?”
“Agreed.”
“Affirmative.”
I cut the call now that business was done and straightened up. Flicking on the light, I stared at myself, saw the fatigue etched into my face and sighed before I reached for my shaving kit.
As I foamed up my face, I was about to let the blade slide up over my throat to my jawline when the rattle of the oven trays being freed from the stove sounded like a ten-car pileup outside. I jerked, nicked my flesh, and as I watched the tiny wound bleed, I decided that today was not the best day for a shave.
Inessa would just have to have beard rash between her thighs.
Conor: Wanna talk?
Eoghan: No. Why?
Conor: Dunno. Thought you might want to talk.
Eoghan: What about?
Eoghan: Have you been listening in on my phone calls?
Conor: Nope. Well, aside from the usual ones.
Eoghan: Reassuring.
Conor: Here if you need me, brother.
Eoghan: Thanks. I think.
Eighteen
Conor
When I opened the door and found Ma standing there, I tipped my head to the side in surprise.
“You got over whatever it is I did?”
She pursed her lips as she shoved her way inside my apartment. “What makes you think you did anything?”
“You’ve been sulking with me since Christmas.”
“I haven’t—” She sighed then twitched her finger at me. I leaned down so she could kiss my cheek.
Watching her take off her gloves, scarf, and coat, I stayed silent, knowing that would get her to talk.
I didn’t think she knew about Da asking me to bug her phone, so I wasn’t sure if that was the reason for the sulking. While I saw the necessity of having the bugs, it wasn’t like I wanted to listen in to everyone in the Points’ private conversations.
Regardless, her visit was either a toss-up between that or her and Da finding out about McKenna.
I’d be more pissed about the privacy, but that was me, and I didn’t want to bring up the subject of my molester because talking about that shit was pointless.
She passed me her things and looked at me expectantly. A quick scan revealed that she’d lost weight since Christmas, and that she’d started doing that scratching thing with her neck again. Without her scarf, I could see the redness there.
When she cleared her throat, I glanced down at the coat, gloves, and scarf, and tossed them on the floor.
When she frowned at me, I muttered, “I don’t have anywhere to put them.”
“You have a coat rack right by your side.”
“I don’t,” I argued. “That’s a tree.”
She stared at it, and so did I. “It has little hooks on it, son. It’s a coat rack.”
“It’s a tree,” I said stubbornly. It had cost me a fortune, and at no point had the artist told me I could hang shit on it. “The floor’s clean.”
“That’s not the point,” she grumbled then huffed. “I’ll go make coffee.”
I heaved an impatient sigh and drifted back to my office.
When I’d seen her through the cameras, hovering by the door, I’d figured I’d better let her in before she talked herself out of knocking. That meant I’d left a couple things on my screen that I shouldn’t have.
Hearing her footsteps, and the clank of her making coffee in the kitchen, I knew I’d have time to hibernate some programs.
Setting the volume low as I worked, I continued listening to the conversation I’d been speeding through before she arrived.
I wanted to discard it so Da would never be able to get his hands on the information.
“At least he isn’t Hewett?” Eoghan muttered.
“I guess. Although we’d have better tax breaks if he were.”
“True.”
“I shouldn’t tell you. Just telling you feels like a fucking betrayal but...” Finn sighed.
“But?”
“But the fact Aoife is Davidson’s puts her in a set of crosshairs that I can’t get her out of. Your turn now. What’s your secret?”
“Not as impressive as yours.”
“No BS. Hit me with it—”
“Have you been eavesdropping again?”
I jerked around, shoulders tense as I saw her standing there, watching me with narrowed eyes.
When she stacked her hands on her hips, looking like my mother of old and not the one who was frightened of her own shadow, I had confirmation that she’d been acting odd because of the whole pedophile thing and not that I’d been bugging her phone.
Damn.
I didn’t want to talk about it. Speaking about it with Lodestar was the last time I ever wanted to talk about it again.
Heaving a sigh, I told her, “I don’t eavesdrop.”
“What did I tell you as a boy, Conor?”
“That eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves. I don’t do it for fun,” I grumbled.
“No, I’ll bet your father asked you to do it for him.” She huffed but her heels clacked as she walked toward me. “Replay that.”
I cut her a look. “You’d be eavesdropping too.”
Ma arched a brow. “Replay the recording.”
I hunched my shoulders. “Da won’t like it.”
“Your father knows that I don’t care whether he likes it or not anymore. Play the damn recording, Conor!”
Her bark had me huffing but I queued it up to where she might have listened, trying not to reveal anymore of Eoghan and Finn’s conversation to her than was strictly necessary.
Her expression turned blank, but she shot me a look and asked, “Is that the State of the Union in the background?”
“Yes.”
“He’s talking about the president?”
“Seems like.”
“Aoife’s that Davidson’s daughter?”
Spying her pinched expression, I pulled a face but didn’t answer. “That seems to be the inference.”