I know I’ve hurt her I’d screamed in her face about her whoring about and Finn not being mine. She’d begged me to believe her, but when I said that he was no child of mine and he would get nothing from me or the Syndicate, she stopped, she looked so hurt and beaten.
And then Finn, he’s just a boy. Telling him that he was a bastard and he’d never be part of this family might have been a bit harsh. But if he isn’t mine then I can’t risk him getting his hands on everything I’ve worked for. I won’t allow it.
The sooner Darragh figures out who the kids father is the better, then I can beat the shit out of him. He can have his bastard kid and they can fuck off.
I throw the journal down and pick up another flicking through the pages looking for anything on Finn. I can’t believe that’s what Da believed. I can’t believe that’s what Darragh believed.
I stop flicking the moment I see what I’m looking for and read on.
Jesus, I’m the worst. I can’t believe I’ve wasted so many years hating Finn and resenting Mary, accusing her of having an affair.
When he came to me today with that paternity test my fucking heart broke. But not as much as Finn’s…
He showed me the results, plain as day. I’m his Da, but because I have spent many years believing he wasn’t, my pride fucking won out. I accused my boy of having the results fixed, I accused him of lying, and then told him he’d never be a part of this Syndicate.
All because I was too proud to admit that I was wrong and have been for so long. I watched his face change and his heart shatter into a million pieces before walking away from me.
Oh fuck, that’s why he was always so distant with us, why he always stood on the side lines. He never felt like one of use, because he was never treated like one of us.
Our Da broke him, he cast him aside like he was nothing and then when he realised he was wrong, he was too fucking proud to admit it.
We need to fix this; we need to make sure Finn feels like he’s one of us. We need to make sure he knows that he’s our brother, always.
Chapter 18
I’m next, it has to be me. Ronan isn’t ready for his letter, but the truth is neither am I. I don’t want to know what’s in that letter.
I know that Connor and Killian seem to be getting something from theirs, but there is nothing he can possibly say that would give me any closure or make me feel any better.
I stare at the letter sitting on the table, not sure what to do. I can feel the eyes of every person in the room on me, watching, waiting to see what my move will be. I know they want me to open it, but I’m not sure I can.
“You don’t have to do this brother,” Killian’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, I look up at him, my eyebrows pinched.
“You don’t want to read it, then don’t. You don’t want to read it in front of us, you don’t have to.”
I swallow a lump in my throat, I know shouldn’t be this scared to read a letter, it’s just a goddamned piece of paper. I look across at Ronan, his eyes locked on my face, I open my mouth to speak to say I have no idea what exactly, but he beats me to it.
“I know what’s going through your head right now, stop it, don’t go back there. If you think there is a chance reading that letter will take you back to that day then don’t do it, wait until you’re ready.”
“If you need to read that letter in your own time on your own, then you should. You have to do what’s right for you, not want you think is right for us, or what you think we want you to do.”
“Ro…”
“No…I don’t know what I’m going to choose to do, I’m not there yet, but I will do what I feel is right for me. And it’s what you should do too.”
Cara gets up from the sofa, then heads into the kitchen with Alex. I have no idea what she’s up to, but I can’t think clearly enough to ask.
The rest of us sit in silence for several minutes, including Maddie. They all wait patiently for me to decide what I want to do.
My head starts to spin, and I feel like I’m starting to lose control. Clenching my fists I stand and go head out the door just as Cara reappears with Alex, they have drinks for everyone.
I step aside to let the women in, but Cara steps with me, and guides me back, effectively stopping me from leaving the room.
Once she’s handed out drinks and placed what I assume is my whiskey on the table she’s back in front of me. She places one hand on my upper arm, the other she places on my chest over my heart.
“I’m here…no matter what, you’ve got this.”
I can feel my breathing start to slow as I place my forehead against hers, I can do this. As long as I have her, I can do this.
