“No one ever taught you to think for yourself?”
The query sears me deep in my chest, burning through scar tissue I wasn’t even aware of until now. When I recognize the kernel of truth in her words, I flinch.
I’m torn between defending myself and wanting to defend my father. Why?
I swallow around my dry throat. “Declan?—”
“Tell me why you follow his every order without question.”
Why does she keepharpingon this? “Does it matter?”
“Yeah, it does to me. I want answers. After all the crap you put me through, you owe me that much.”
This fucking woman.I shove out a ragged breath. “He’s my father.” The answer comes out on the back of a growl. “Satisfied?”
“Oh my god.” She opens her mouth and then snaps it shut, as if she’s doing the math. Then the color drains from her face. “That means we’re?—”
“Not related, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I shift to find a more comfortable position and grimace when I attempt to move my left leg. “I’m not his biological son.”
The words are just as ugly hanging in the air between us as they are in the dark recesses of my mind.
Trinity stands there speechless, though I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.
“My mother had an affair, and he’s always held a grudge. He’s never treated me the same way he does Connor.” I grip the bedrail while my throat tightens. “I’ve worked my ass off to gain his approval, but no matter how good I am at my job, it’s never enough. In one of our recent conversations, he half-joked that he would shoot me if I screwed up this mission. Knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he really does plan to kill me if I fail. I am the spare son, after all.”
Chapter 24
Trinity
Brody’s words sink into me like spikes.
I figured if I asked him some personal questions about Declan, he’d remind me of how horrible he is and reaffirm the importance of getting as far away from him as I can.
Instead, I just unearthed an interior wound that makes the one on his leg look mild.
The more he opens up, the more empathy stabs me through the heart.
I can tell he’s not lying. The raw emotion on his face is too organic to be a performance, and his brain is probably too messed up to fabricate a story that quickly.
No…Brody’s not far off from who I originally thought he was. A lonely man risking life and limb to earn a scrap of acceptance. Now that I know Declan Gallagherishis father—more or less—I’m starting to better understand Brody’s steadfast determination to prove himself to the other man.
That same love and connection that I always believed I lived without… He lived without it too, only his life was probably so much tougher.
I shouldn’t be empathizing with him, but my stupid heart apparently has a mind of its own.
“Everything changed after my mother died. That’s when Declan told me about the affair.” Bitterness laces his words. “ Not that he was ever warm and fuzzy. But once she passed…he expected perfection from me, and he made me swear not to tell anyone about my mother’s infidelity.” He fixes me with a twisted grin. “Declan was never a stellar dad to Maeve and Connor either. He was just…worse to me. You’re a Gallagher too. You know what the fathers in this world are like.”
“Yes.” Because I do know what mafia fathers are like.
Hardened. Prideful. Controlling.
But even with our strained relationship, my father never truly treated me like…less than.
Brody closes his eyes, his fingers clenching on the edge of the bed. “Declan should’ve killed my mother for the betrayal and me for being a reminder. But he didn’t. She got sick and revealed the truth to him shortly before she died.”
There’s a remorseful edge to Brody’s statements, almost like he truly believes that Declan should have done away with him and his mother. Picturing the sad, rejected kid he must have been after losing his mother and in a way, his father, drags a jagged nail across my heart.
Brody’s not exaggerating. Some of the men among the Irish Kings would absolutely murder their wife and child over a transgression like this. My records on that hard drive confirm that.
