“Jesus, Conor, what is that?” I shoved my hand against my nose to combat the stench.
“Did you know that pigs are a close genetic relative of humans?”
I blinked. “What does that have to do with how bad you stink?”
“Scorched flesh smells like bacon,” Finn answered grimly.
My stomach twisted some, but I’d mastered butchery in culinary school. Sure, we’d chopped up pigs and sides of beef not humans…
“Why is he scorched?” I rasped.
“Because Kid likes electricity,” was Finn’s reminder, as I realized he’d said something like that before.
“What’s not to like?” Conor replied with a frown. “Very effective at doling out pain without having to get your hands dirty. I need mine for typing. I tried dictating but it’s not so easy with code. We adapt and evolve, don’t we?”
“Sure, I guess.” Uneasily, I looked up at Finn and saw he was shaking his head.
When he asked, “You sure you want to do this, Aoife?” it didn’t come as a surprise.
Conor huffed. “The bastard helped kill her mother, Finn. Of course she wants to do this.” He reached out and tugged on a strand of hair that hung loose from my ponytail. “All that red hair hides a fiery temper. This is the first time I’ve really seen it.”
I didn’t jerk away from his touch. Instead, I clasped his wrist with my fingers and asked, “Conor, why are you involved in this?”
Taking note that his pulse didn’t jump, I watched his reaction as he answered, “Ma asked me to.”
“Why?” I couldn’t understand why Lena would get Conor involved. “Why would she drag you into this?”
“Oh, for many reasons.”
“Can you tell me some of them?” I rasped, releasing my hold on his wrist as he gently dropped my hair. I huddled deeper into my coat as I stared at him. “I need to understand.”
The problem was, I didn’t want to offend him. Conor hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault this was happening. But he had a way about him that I knew, if I triggered it, he’d help me.
Conor’s weakness was the underdog.
I’d seen that time and time again, especially in regard to Shay.
Finn said Brennan was teaching Shay self-defense because Conor had encouraged him to—before he’d stolen the trust funds of some of Shay’s bullies as punishment. If that didn’t speak louder than words, I didn’t know what did.
“The most pressing reason is she doesn’t trust Da.” He pursed his lips. “I also think she’s scared he’ll lose the plot.”
“He lost that years ago,” Finn grumbled.
Conor’s smile turned darker. “Well, that’s certainly true. But mostly it’s because Finn and Aidan told them that I was raped as a child—”
Finn tensed. “Con—”
Conor’s gaze never left mine. “Why the family insists on treating me as if I’m a kid I don’t know. Da puts me in charge of monitoring everyone then doesn’t seem to think I have the synaptic ability to put two and two together?”
Unable to hold back, I reached over and touched his chin.
Was he doing this because of Callum? Were the shadows in his eyes there because his friend had betrayed him?
Hurting for myself, hurting for him, I whispered, “They don’t treat you like you’re a child. They love you. They want to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting.” He tilted his face into my hand. “But thank you for saying that anyway. I understand that this can’t be easy for you, Aoife. I’m so sorry.” His gaze dropped to my stomach, and that was when I knew he knew.
Somehow, he knew that our baby wasn’t… right.
My body turned to ice as I stared at him, stared into those beautiful eyes that could see the world for what it was, all while hiding the secrets of the universe.
“Thank you, Conor.” As I drowned in his eyes, I found that was preferable to the waves of grief that kept hitting me like a sledgehammer to the heart. “If I wanted to torture your mom for actually killing mine, I guess you wouldn’t help me then, though?”
He stared at me. “You have many reasons to hate her,” he agreed.
“I do,” I snapped.
With his spare hand, he booped my chin gently with a finger. “Do you blame the bullet or do you blame the gun or do you blame the man pulling the trigger?”
I swallowed. “Your mom’s the bullet?”
“Yes.” He cast a look at Finn. “Finn would probably like me to discourage you from coming in here, and maybe I should, but you have to know a few things before I let you see Michael.”
I licked my lips. “What?”
“He has major burns. Some bones can be seen through the flesh. He stinks. He’s pissed and crapped himself multiple times.
“The Geneva Convention doesn’t exist within these walls, Aoife. There’s no such thing as Amnesty International.”
“You didn’t beat him?” I asked gruffly.
“No. I don’t work that way. That’s for Brennan.”
That was why I’d wanted him on the job.
For a second, my gaze darted to the open doorway where that stench emanated from. “What did you do to him?”
“I just made him talk. That’s all.”
“Cheiles don’t just talk to anyone, Aoife. Don’t underestimate what you’re about to see,” Finn warned.
“That man is the reason my mom is dead,” I retorted.
“And you’re of the world that believes prisons and the justice system are all it takes to make things right,” my husband argued. “I’m from this world, but even I was shocked when I saw him.”
“You’ve seen him?”
“I have.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is that something you’re keeping from me?”
“No. You can see the livestream Conor sent. He probably has recordings of it.” Finn shrugged. “But I have to tell you, sweetheart, that I’ve worked long and hard to keep you out of the business. With every step you take down this path, you’re driving yourself deeper into a conspiracy charge.”
Conor nodded, and his tone was easy as he reasoned, “He’s right, Aoife. Conspiracy to commit murder comes with the same penalties as murder one.”
A part of me wanted to scream at them, wanted to question if they thought I was dumb as shit if they didn’t think I knew that already. But I saw that both of them were just trying to protect me.
That was what the O’Donnellys did, after all. They protected their women.
Just like they’d protected Lena.
But what about my mom?
My mom deserved protection too.
She deserved justice, dammit.
Jaw clenched, I shoved Conor aside, preferring to stop talking about this and to just get on with it. Only trouble was, my gag reflex began being triggered with every step I damn well took.
By the time I was at the foot of whatever torture device Conor had conjured up, my eyes watered with the need to puke.
Beholding the monstrosity of what was once a normal man who’d worn expensive suits like the rest of the Five Points, and who drove Lena around like she was Queen Bee, I wasn’t going to lie—Finn was right.