Pride had his shoulders straightening. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really. Conor’s good with figures, so he helped me earn more profits—”
“By cutting the IRS out of the loop?” Paddy queried, a gleam in his eyes.
I smiled over the rim of the glass. “Maybe.” I tilted my head to the side, took in the shitty suit and the collar on his shirt that had been laundered several dozen times. “Liam’s gone back home? That’s what Aidan told me.”
He pulled a face. “It’s the middle of the NHL season. He didn’t want to miss any more games.
“Didn’t he need a break?”
“I think that was the last thing he needed. My son’s very determined.”
“I wonder where he gets that from.”
Paddy snorted. “Yeah. I wonder.”
Curious, I asked, “You don’t speak much, do you?”
He leaped to his feet and blustered, “What makes you say that?”
That he bristled merely confirmed my suspicion.
“He’s a rich NHL star. Your suit saw better days ten years ago, Paddy.”
“You think I’d take money from him?”
“I think a good son with a father he respected would figure out a way to maneuver around any pricked egos.”
His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched, and for the second time that day, I prepared to be struck down, only he settled back against the sofa and muttered, “You always been this perceptive and I just didn’t notice it?”
“Few people notice it,” I mocked. “Until it’s too late.”
Paddy tapped his nose. “That’s smart, Finn. Real smart.”
Hitching a shoulder, I asked, “What went wrong?”
“His manager turned him against me.”
“And you were the completely innocent party?” I mocked.
He grunted. “No. I said shit I shouldn’t have.”
“About what?”
“His ma. She was a stripper.”
“You stuck around for math classes,” I pointed out. “So you weren’t totally deadbeat.”
“It’s complicated.” He heaved a sigh, but he didn’t argue with my description of him as a father. “Liam’s made a lot of bad decisions lately—”
“That why you had to pull a Lazarus and resurrect Padraig O’Donnelly?”
His mouth turned down at the corners. “He lost a couple million to some shady investors in Quebec.”
“Give the names to Conor. He’ll get the money back,” I said softly.
“Conor don’t want nothin’ to do with me. I get it. I did a shitty thing.”
There was no self-pity in the words, and that was probably what made me say, “Conor’s been betrayed recently. We all have—”
“I didn’t—”
I held up a hand to stall him. “Wasn’t talking about you. Yours is the least problematic of a bad bunch. You know Mark O’Reilly?”
He sniffed. “That dipshit Aidan thought was a best friend?”
Amused, I said, “Well, he’s still a dipshit. Callum was on Con’s crew. They were best friends, but we found out recently his son was a Sparrow.”
“Jesus!”
“Exactly. You notice Junior hobbles around?”
“Yeah, what’s with that?”
“He got gunned down on my wedding day, alongside Aoife. But Callum is the reason that drive-by happened.”
Paddy sank back into the sofa then, with a statement worthy of an award for understatement of the decade, muttered, “Tabarnak. The Sparrows have really messed with the Points, haven’t they?”
“The fuck is tabarnak?” I asked.
His cheeks turned ruddy. “Means ‘fuck’ in Québecois. Picked up the language over the years.”
Though I arched a brow at that, I merely said, “The Sparrows really have messed with us. And then there’s this shit with the ECD.”
“Never liked dealing with them. Getting into bed with the IRA’s one thing, but those fucking nutcases?” He scoffed. “But Aidan just had to have Lena. He’s such a goddamn hypocrite.”
“You only just figured that out?”
His smile was wry. “No. Spent a lot of time pining for home, Finn. Not going to lie, some days, I thought it would have been better if I’d let the ECD take me down. Then Liam happened and shit suddenly made sense. Until it didn’t no more.”
“It’s never too late,” I said softly, feeling the words impart some of their wisdom onto me.
He was silent a second, then he murmured, “You’re right.”
“This is proof of that, in fact.”
Nodding, he said, “I’ll be returning to Quebec soon. I’ll try to straighten things out with him.”
“See Conor, Paddy,” I insisted. “He’ll help get Liam’s money back.”
He winced. “I’ll think about it.”
I scratched my chin. “How are you for cash?”
His gaze darted around the office, but he surprised me by saying, “I don’t need charity. Only when my boy’s life is at stake.”
I respected that. “You got any savings I can invest?”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Don’t see why not. It’s what I do, after all,” I commented.
“I’d appreciate that, Finn. Don’t have much.”
“Not for long.”
His lips quirked up. “Would be nice not to worry about paying rent.”
With a nod, I told him, “Consider it a done deal. Would you like to meet Jake?”
His smile was earnest and genuine. Some of that came from his relief at my offer, but I also knew it was from the joy he found in reconnecting with his family. “I’d love to.”
And because I believed that, it was with pleasure that, twenty minutes later, I introduced Jacob Padraig O’Grady to his namesake.
Forty-Four
Aoife
Padraig, oddly enough, was nothing like his elder brother.
He was cheerful, kind, watchful, and, most importantly, sane.
As I fed him and Finn, while picking at my own dinner, I watched them interact, and even though I felt raw after our earlier argument, I liked listening to their stories.
“Remember that time when Senior got Aidan that hooker?” Paddy queried with a laugh, shooting me an apologetic look.
“I know what a hooker is,” I said dryly.
“I remember,” Finn mused, his lips forming a smile that didn’t hit his eyes. Like the memory was there, it was funny, but it was in shadow. “He got a crush on her real bad, didn’t he?”
Paddy cackled. “Your da found out he wanted to marry her—”
“No way,” Finn countered, laughter finally bubbling from him. “How old was he?”
“Thirteen.”
Jesus.
Thirteen? Senior had set Junior up with a hooker at thirteen?
Well, that took my mind off the fact that I’d almost hit Finn again.
Not for long, though.
The shame I felt soured the roasted chicken I’d cooked for today’s meal, and it made me quiet.