Luca rubbed a tired hand across his face. “It’s time for bed. Come on, angel. Goodnight, Aidan. Vitali—get the guards to lock up when you leave.”
“Teo can sleep in the room next to yours in Boston, Aidan,” Finch said over his shoulder, as though there were nothing more to argue about, and then, as he followed Luca up the stairs, called back, “He can stay tonight, too, if he wants.”
I looked over to Teo, who seemed hesitant. “You don’t have to stay here tonight if you—”
“Oh, I want to,” he said. “It’s just…the kids. If I’m going to Boston for a while, I’d like to say goodbye. Make sure they behave.”
I was so startled that I said nothing except, “You havekids?”
He smirked. “Uh, sort of. My sister and me, you know. We look after the family. ‘The kids’ are our brothers and sisters. My parents passed on.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. They weren’t much good as parents. Anyhow—if you’re sure you don’t want me to stay—”
“No, no, please. I didn’t mean to take you away from your responsibilities.” I was beginning to feel ashamed of myself. I had known Teo for quite some time, and this was the first I’d ever heard about his home life. So much for showing empathy and interest in the lives of others.
He hesitated. “I’d rather stay,” he said at last. “But I don’t wanna leave Marietta with no warning. Marietta’s my sister,” he added. “She knows I sometimes have to go away for work, but—”
“Don’t you worry about what might happen to them?” I asked, my curiosity and sheer exhaustion after the day knocking out any inclination for subtlety.
Teo shrugged. “Sure. But the Family would take care of them. They wouldn’t want for nothing if anything happened to me.”
“They’d want for a big brother,” I pointed out.
Teo gave another shrug, more irritated. “That’s how life goes sometimes. Anyways. I should go. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn.”
He shook his head. “No need to be sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow, Father.”
I didn’t even bother to correct him this time as he left with a nod.
Chapter Ten
Teo
“Are yousureyour sister doesn’t mind?” Aidan asked me for the fifth time. We were driving to Boston—I was driving him to Boston—and he’d asked me so many times with such guilt that I wished I’d never said anything last night.
“It’s fine,” I said curtly.
After a pause, Aidan said softly, “I’m sorry that I keep asking. Only I hate to think that your family are put out just because of me.”
I breathed in and out through my nose, one slow, deep breath. “I wanted to do this,” I reminded him. And I did. Ireallydid. Marietta hadn’t been happy about it, but the Boss had sent around a large bonus already that morning, which I greatly appreciated, and it helped Mari keep her thoughts to herself, too.
“Where’d you grow up in Boston?” I asked, to change the subject.
I caught Aidan’s smile from the side of my eye. “Not Beacon Hill, that’s for sure. No, my parents have a house in Charlestown. We’re a large family, like yours—I have two sisters and four brothers, although none of us live in Boston anymore.”
“You the oldest?”
“No, I was second-youngest. Only one sister younger than me.”
“Were they religious, your folks?” I figured they must have been more than average if Aidan had gone for it.
But: “Not really,” he said. “No more than most, I suppose. It’s more of a cultural thing for the Boston Irish, though.” I understood that. The Church was central to most Italian families. Not mine, not growing up, or at least, not until Mari and I had taken over the family. “But there’s a streak of the pagan in my family line,” Aidan was saying fondly. “My great-grandmother had an icon of Saint Brigid that was more Celtic than perhaps the Church would technically allow. But you know how it is. She was the first of my family to come over here, and so I think she liked to hold to some of the old ways to remind her of home.”
“Makes sense.” I didn’t even know when my family had come out. “You knew your great-grandma?”
