“Lena—” I whispered, needing him to carry on.
“Before your mom’s death, Aidan had a health scare. It terrified him enough that he had to confess his sins to Lena.”
“You?” I wheezed. “You’re his sin?”
He nodded, but I saw pain shift into being in his eyes.
I hurt for him, then. I loved him enough that I felt his pain as if it were my own.
Who else knew what it felt like to be a filthy little secret?
Who else could understand other than me?
We were both bastards. Both born outside of someone’s committed relationship.
I grabbed his hand, clasping it so hard that my fingers ached as I stared up at him, needing him to continue.
“Aidan told me this,” he grated out, “and he said that she was off her meds and she was whacked up. Couldn’t let it rest. He wouldn’t tell her who it was he’d had the affair with or who the kid was because he didn’t want to wreck the relationship I had with her.” He clenched his teeth. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”
My mouth trembled. “She thought Mom was his girlfriend? She thought I was his daughter?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would she think that? What made her think we were his?”
“Michael, Lena’s guard, he’s with the ECD. We didn’t know that until recently. He’s the one who told her that your mom was Senior’s girlfriend. He pointed Lena at her.”
“Why? Why would he do that?”
He dragged out his phone again. “I got this on the way home. Conor sent it to me.”
“What is it?” I rasped, squinting at the screen when I saw an article in a newspaper. There was a picture of a woman, half her face on display—
My brain screeched to a halt.
I recognized those laughing eyes, the smile that lit up a room.
Mom.
It was Mom.
I had photos of her all around the apartment, but this was different.
She was lighter.
Happier.
My throat tightened with tears as I stared at that smile—incandescent. She was capable of such joy, and I’d forgotten that.
For a second, my vision blurred as memories drowned me. Memories of what had felt like a simpler time but, in reality, hadn’t been.
This intrigue had followed me since the day I’d been conceived.
This was a specter that was only just catching up to me.
Senator Alan Davidson spotted with mystery woman.
I managed to make out the article headline.
“This was printed a few weeks before your mom’s death, sweetheart.”
“They’d started seeing each other again?”
He nodded. “Seems like it. Rumors drifted in and out where he was concerned.”
“He had a reputation? I never knew that.”
But, hell, neither had I seen this headline, nor had I known that my mother was dating a presidential candidate.
Did I walk around with my head in the clouds?
Or was the flour causing problems with my eyes?
He shrugged. “You’re not exactly into politics, and I get the feeling that shit was covered up.”
“By whom?”
Finn hesitated. “I don’t know for sure, but I think us.”
“The Five Points?”
He nodded. “Senior never asked me to do anything like that, and I know Junior wasn’t asked either—”
“Conor.”
“Yeah, it could be him.”
“Who was he with?”
“Did your mom date?”
“I-I guess. Toward the end not so much. We were busy with the tearoom but yeah, I guess… she dated more than I did.”
“This is the only time I remember a picture coming out—what if they were seeing each other all along?”
“Why wouldn’t she tell me they were together, though?” I whispered on a broken sob.
“I don’t know, baby. I can’t answer that.”
He hugged me tighter to him and I let him. I let him because I needed him. It was shameful but I needed him so fucking badly.
“His wife was there the day your mom died, sweetheart. That can’t be a coincidence, can it? And Conor told me that she’s the one who confirmed Senior and your mom were together.”
I reached up and rubbed at my temple. “Let me get this straight, you’re trying to tell me two different sets of people wanted my mom dead, for two entirely different reasons?”
“It depends on whether Elizabeth Davidson is a part of the ECD.”
“Is she?”
“I don’t know. It would make a crazy kind of sense if she were, but Michael says she isn’t.”
Michael says she isn’t.
I repeated the words in my head, then I looked at him, a plea in my eyes that I didn’t know how to voice.
He pressed a kiss to my temple, and because I was so distracted, I allowed it. But Finn, of course, translated what the beseeching look I sent him meant and translated it perfectly. “Conor’s dealing with him.”
It took a second for his words to penetrate, but when they did, I was even more confused.
I reared back, spluttering, “Conor?”
“Trust me, sweetheart—”
“How the hell can I?” I snapped, and the words were like he’d tossed a live hand grenade at me. I leaped into action, shoving away from him as I launched myself onto my feet.
“You can trust me with this,” he whispered, but I knew I’d hurt him, and all I could think was that I was glad I had.
I doubted it hurt as much as this ache in my chest. This gnawing, empty pain that could have been the start of heartburn or a heart attack for all I knew.
But as that ache took over, something filled it.
Something solid. Weighty. Heavy.
A need I’d never felt before, a need I didn’t even know I had in me to feel.
“I want to see him.”
He stared at me blankly. “What?”
“I want to see him.”
My flat tone had him muttering, “You couldn’t handle what—”
“I could.” My words were grim. Loaded with resolve. “I want to ask him if Elizabeth was involved in this. I want details. I want to understand why my mom was murdered.”
“He won’t say anything new, sweetheart.” He reached for my hand but I dragged it out of his hold. “What Conor does—”
“Conor’s a fucking hacker, Finn. He’s a nerd. What the hell can he do—”
“Let me speak, Aoife,” he growled. “Conor’s a nerd with a fascination for electricity. You don’t see that side of him because it doesn’t come out to party when he’s with goddamn family eating roasted chicken as we bitch about the week we’ve had.
“If there’s a brother who’s like Aidan Sr., it’s Conor. Where shit like this is concerned, where the family is hurt, where we’re maligned and when he’s interested enough to care, he’s fucking wicked.”
I tried to imagine Conor, the guy even his baby brother called ‘Kid,’ being wicked, but I couldn’t see it.
“No,” I denied. “Brennan’s the fixer. Why isn’t he handling this? He should be handling this. This is the worst kind of betrayal, dammit. I want Brennan to make him pay. To make him hurt like I’m hurting.”