I hug her back, grateful she’s here in person and not through the phone.
“Kieran,” Summer says as my dad comes in behind me. “Everything okay?”
“Ye better ask Aoife. She’s the leader of the mob now.” His grin is wide; his tone mocking. I punch his shoulder.
“What?”
“I think our daughter has an admirer,” he says.
“Dad, stop. Grayson is just … he’s the detective who was on this case with Reed. Ace assigned him, and … ugh.”
He lets out a warm laugh. “I like him. And he’s right. Ye are the leader of the Irish, little love. I’m proud of yer decision this morning.”
My decision. I sigh. The one where I used my sway over Ace to have him hand Reed over? Yeah, that one. It would’ve been an all-out war between the Yakuza and the Albanians to seewho could get to Reed the fastest once his name was released to the public. But I’d like to position the Irish to be owed a favor, particularly from the Albanians. The Yakuza has been fickle in the past with their loyalty, and this time, I’d like to have us ahead. So, I gave Reed to the Albanians as a gift from the Irish. A debt they’ll have to repay, and that’s a better investment than revenge. I made the best decision for the Irishandthe city of Boston. I hope Grayson sees that.
I move to the bar, sitting and reaching over the counter to snag myself a bottle of whatever. Preferably strong. His words play on a loop.I don’t know how this works.I didn’t have the opportunity to speak with him before Ace rounded up his officers, cleared away the evidence, and made a statement to the press.
Summer slides onto the stool next to me. Her black hair, kept short, is streaked with gray in the front, and it’s only another reminder of how short life is. We get one, and while I want to carry on my dad’s legacy, I don’t want to do it alone. “You know,” she says. “Seems like just yesterday I was here at this very seat with my friend Shelly trying to avoid your father.” She laughs, then nudges me with her elbow. “Who are you trying to avoid?”
I pop the top on the bottle, not caring enough to read the bottle’s label, and bring it to my mouth for a giant swig. “It’s not who, but what. I’m trying to avoid a broken heart.”
She pats my thigh. “Tell me, sweet girl.”
The tears well in my eyes before I can gulp another mouthful of liquor. “I love him. It’s crazy, but there’s just something about him. He makes me feel like I can be myself. I can be utterly and determinately myself with Grayson. But I’m not sure he thinks it can work. I mean, how could it? I don’t know if this life is for him. He deserves someone to be there for him, to love him, and create a family for him. He’s been alone and outcast from his own—I couldn’t keep him from finding a true partner.”
“Aoife … look around you,” Summer whispers.
I pause, the bottle halfway tipped back into my mouth, and scan the bar.
“Is this not the true definition of family? Loyalty? If he loves you, wants you, he won’t care about the life you live—only that you’re in it. Lizzy used to tell your father something: She used to tell him to prove me wrong. Well, prove to Grayson,thisfamily, is enough.”
CHAPTER 20
GRAYSON
The church glows under the candlelight lining the altar. The soft halos flicker onto the gold leaf and marble. Wreaths hang from every archway, the pine scent mixing with the sweet tang of incense and the perfume from those dressed in their Christmas Eve best. Voices rise and fall with each hymn the choir lilts. The tone is warm and surprisingly comforting as I slide into the last wooden pew. My jacket crinkles as my gun scrapes along the cold bench, but thankfully there are several unfilled rows between me and anyone else.
From here, I can see them, my whole family lined up in a pew near the front. Their backs are straight, hymn books open. They don’t look back, and I’m glad. I’m not sure why I came, to torture myself watching families sit together shoulder to shoulder.
Used to think Reed and the department were family after mine rejected me. I snort to myself during a loud soprano crescendo.
I look around, pulling my trench coat closer to me. I don’t have this. Sure, I’ve got the last name, but I don’t have the kind of family that you spend Christmas Eve with.
I wonder about Aoife, where she’s sitting tonight. Probably wedged between her father and Summer surrounded by the Irishfamily at O’Brien’s. Her father showed up, willing to go to bat for his daughter. I still don’t care for the idea he prompted this life for her, but she’s content and growing into her role. I’ve seen it over these few weeks being around her.
I’ve come to accept the ache that comes with the understanding that I might never have a family of my own.
My niece twists in my sister-in-law’s arms before she pops over her shoulder. Her face glows in the dim light shrouding the church, but her little eyes lock on mine. She doesn’t wave or call out, just a polite smile that you’d give a stranger because that’s who I am to her. A stranger.
I swallow, the scents around me burning my throat. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to be here. I want to hang Christmas lights on my tree with Aoife. To wrap a bunch of empty boxes just to watch her curiously touch and shake each one. To know what she wants to snack on and what Christmas movie she’d pick.
I—
The wooden pew creaks as someone sits next to me. I glance down, annoyed they’re going to see me sneak out before the service is over, but then I catch the riding boots and the black leather pants wrapped around legs I’ve spent too much time staring at over the past several weeks. My head snaps up to find Aoife, staring straight ahead, a relaxed smile gracing her lips as she listens to the choir start “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” As I look at her, two more people slide in next to her. Kieran and Summer both sit down, and I can’t help but stare. Kieran glances over at me and dips his chin, then places his arm around Summer as they sit back to watch the choir.
My gaze shifts back to Aoife, her head tilted like she’s enjoying the Christmas music. The curve of her cheek, the slope of her nose, the way her lashes fan out over her face when she blinks. I can’t look away. Her lips mouth some of the words tothe song, and I focus on the little flutter at the base of her neck when she swallows.
How is she here?Whyis she here?
