“What factions? The terrorists?”
“No.” She stepped back, taking his hands and squeezing them before she returned to her wingback chair. The way she sat in it, like a queen in a throne, the way she looked at Finch with sadness but determination—it made me understand in ways that mere words never could. I let out a soft exclamation of understanding.
“Whatisit?” Finch demanded.
“Sit down, Howie,” Tara said kindly. “Sit down and I’ll explain.” Finch, looking suspiciously between us, did as he was told. He was being particularly obedient tonight, I noted. “There are parts of the Family,” Tara began, and I knew then without a doubt that she meant capital-F Family, “who don’t think a woman should be the head.”
“Who do they want?” Finch snorted. “One of our gruesome cousins? They’re all dumb as shit and they—”
“No, Howie. They wantyou.”
Finch stared at her, and then laughed, a strange, unnatural giggle quite unlike his usual laugh. “No they fucking don’t,” he said. “That was just something Uncle Gus told me—”
“Yes they fucking do,” Tara said, and it was the first time I’d heard her curse. From the look on Finch’s face, it might have been his first time, too.
“I don’t want anything to do with the Donovans,” Finch snapped, and then ran a hand through his hair. “I mean—notthoseDonovans. You, of course; you’re my sister. And Róisín, I guess,” he added as an afterthought. “Anyway, don’t they know by now I’m no puppet?”
“That’s exactlywhythese people want you, Howie. They see you asstrong. Someone who will do what needs to be done.”
“They don’t…see you the same way?” His eyes slid down and to the side as he said it, and I saw then some of the deeper undercurrents between them.
Finchhimselfdid not see his sister as a strong leader.
And Tara knew it.
“No,” she said quietly. “No, they don’t. They are wrong, of course,” she added more briskly. “That particular faction think that when the IFF nationalists took over Innisfree, it showed me up as weak. And so, since then, they’ve been eager to dethrone me.”
“Well, no one’s said anything to me,” Finch said bluntly, and frowned. “And if that’s the only thing you’re worried about, it’s pretty fucking rude of you to assume I’d go for it. You know damn well I have no interest in coming back here, running the Donovans. I’m a D’Amato. I’m a Morelli. I don’t have any more hyphens to add to my name.” It was a weak joke, but Tara gave a smile nonetheless.
“I know. Idoknow. But there are other factions, too. There are those who don’t support me because they think thatIamyourpuppet, for example. And so for them, I must keep you at arm’s length; show that you don’t have a say in my decisions.”
Finch started to say something, but she held up a hand.
“There are still other factions whowantto rejoin the IFF, who want everything to go back to what they call ‘the good old days.’ As far as they’re concerned, you’re a target, not a potential successor of mine, and I’m just in the way. They want to put one of their own in charge of things. And that’s just theinternaldivisions, Howie. I have to deal with those, and then the external pressures as well. All the other Families in Boston who thought they saw a chance to kick us when we were down, they hover around and cause problems of their own. They block me when I try to move the Family into more legitimate streams; but then they block me when I…” She hesitated, and glanced my way. “When I choose moretraditionalavenues for the Family, the kind that our grandfather and Maggie were happier with.”
“SoIget the cold shoulder because of what other people think?” Finch threw up his hands. “Can’t I just be your damnbrother?When you sent me Mom’s diary, you told me you wanted to make our relationship closer, not more distant.”
“And I meant it. But then I began to understand the Family better, the complexities, I began to see why Maggie…well, why she did some of the things she did.”
“Like, try to kill me?” He gave her a dead-eyed stare, daring her to confirm it.
“I will never forgive Maggie or our father for what they tried to do to you. Or what they succeeded in doing to Mom.” Tara Donovan sounded just as cold as her brother, and I thought I saw fleeting admiration in Finch’s eyes. “I said IunderstoodMaggie’s stresses. Ididn’tsay I sympathized.”
Neither of them spoke. Tara sat frozen, her head held high, while Finch slumped back on the sofa, his eyes on hers.
“Perhaps you can find a way to work together,” I said tentatively, when it became clear neither was prepared to break the silence. “I mean,” I added hastily, as exasperation made itself known on Tara’s face, “that it’s better to be allies than enemies—but it would be worst of all to be merely estranged.”
The two of them had not taken their eyes off each other, as though they feared the other would strike if they looked away.
“In what sense?” Tara asked after a moment, her voice high and cool.
“Because it would be the worst of both worlds. You must choose, Tara—either Finch can be your brother in spirit as well as name, and you can both be stronger for it. Or you can work against each other, actively. But if you simply drift…” I spread my hands. “Then your enemies, Tara, will assume what they want to assume, and move against you. And you, Finch,” I said, turning to him. He looked startled. “You’re someone who prefers closure when it comes to family. You made it clear to me the day we met where your allegiances lay.”
I remembered that day vividly, his vicious expression as he hissed:My name is Finch D’Amato. Does that sound fucking Irish to you?
“You can’t deal in half-measures when it comes to the Donovans,” I told him softly. “And you know that. So you must decide on a way forward and accept it. To do anything less would—” I stopped myself. What I wanted to say seemed so dramatic. And yet I knew it was true. “It would destroy you.”
At that moment, there was a knock at the already-open door and we all looked over to see Gio Carlucci standing there. “Ms. Donovan? They’re asking for you.”
