I let out a long sigh through my nose. “Perhaps we should pray together,” I suggested.
“That would be lovely,” she replied with that charming Donovan smile. And so I sat with Róisín and we said the rosary together, and I let my mind wander back to Teo.
Back to the previous night.
I shifted in my seat, remembering the feel of him pushing into me. But more than that, I remembered the feeling ofconnection. To Teo…and to everything else, as well. The world seemed larger when we moved together, building up that sweet tension between us. I shifted again as I felt a telltale tingling in my crotch—but cautiously, tentatively, I pushed away the usual shame that came along with it.
And still my lips moved in the rosary, and God did not strike me down. If anything, I felt a deep peace come over me.
I don’t know how long we prayed together, but eventually there was a beep at the door and a great clunking noise as all its metal bolts pulled out of the wall, and it opened.
Róisín and I looked up as Teo appeared in the doorway. He came in almost shyly, and I stood to meet him.
“I’m sorry I made you come back here,” he began placatingly, hands up. “But if you wanna yell at me, let’s wait. You got some visitors.”
My heart leaped so high I put my hands up to my mouth, as though trying to keep it in. “Are my parents—”
“We’re right here, sweetheart,” said my mother’s voice, and Teo stood aside so that I could see them, Mom and Dad both, standing right there behind him outside the safe room.
I ran to them, hugging both of them tight, laughing in relief. “Thank God, thank God,” I murmured into my mother’s hair. “Are you hurt?”
“No, no,” she said. “Teo kept us safe, along with rather a lot of other men. Your father had to abandon his pie, though. Oh!” she gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth in horror.
“What is it?” I demanded.
“I hope one of those men remembered to turn the oven off. The wholehousecould burn down!”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Teo
Iknew it was selfish, but part of me wished that Aidan and I had had a chance to talk more before his reunion with his parents. Still, seeing them hugging and laughing and even crying together made me feel weirdly happy, and I knew I’d done the right thing leaving Aidan in O’Hara’s care, even though it had been against every single instinct I had.
John and Nancy had been distressed and angry when I arrived; the Donovan men were already in their house, guns out, trying to explain they were there for protection. By the time I arrived, the IFF were gone, and the cops were still absent. There had been no gunfire exchanges, the Donovan Family member called Fitzgerald told me. Aidan’s father had been arguing with him, ordering him out of the house, but once he and Nancy saw me they became much easier to manage.
“Teo was just marvelous,” Nancy was saying, and she pulled me into their family huddle. Aidan looked over at me and slung an arm around my shoulders.
“I bet he was,” he said softly.
John and Nancy exchanged a look. I felt a strange heat working its way up my neck.
“Why don’t we head back upstairs?” I suggested quickly, and pulled away from the group hug.
“But whowerethose people?” Nancy asked, as we went back up to the first floor. Tara Donovan was nowhere to be found; she was still getting briefed, I assumed. I’d have to find O’Hara later and thank him for taking care of Aidan.
“They were bad people, whoever they were,” John muttered, and then he gave a look around the front room. “Where exactly are we, Teo?”
“Uh. Beacon Hill.”
“And who exactly are our hosts?”
“That would be me,” said a light voice from the doorway, and Tara came into the room smiling and lovely. She was a woman who knew how to make the most of her charm, and I saw John and Nancy visibly relax as Tara’s warmth filled the room. “I must apologize for not greeting you at the door. I’m Tara Donovan.”
She reached out a hand to shake, but John’s face had turned angry. He pushed Nancy behind him and glared at Tara. “We’re no friends of the Donovans,” he growled.
Tara’s smile faltered.
“Dad, it’s fine,” Aidan said, coming quickly to Tara’s side. “Please. Tara is a friend. She’s not—she’s not like…”
