Page 18 of Honorable Sins

Which is really concerning.

Something has to be done. And it needs to filter out to all the mob families because what happened today should never have happened with children, but especially those associated with our mob.

When Sadie comes out of the bathroom, her shoulders are no longer hunched and she seems calmer.

A tray of sandwiches and beverages have been delivered to the sunroom when we reach it. Fiona doesn't stand on ceremony, grabbing a plate with one of the sandwiches in one hand and a drink in the other, clearly intent on staying.

Fitz hands a plate to Sadie. "Pick a sandwich. I know you didn't get lunch." He grins at me. "I did, but I'm still hungry." And he snags another plate for himself.

No surprise there. He is a preteen boy after all. And with a more rigorous workout schedule than his classmates. Fitz is always hungry.

The kids join Fiona at the table near the window and pretty soon our son has his favorite card-based boardgame out, which they play while they eat.

"You need to eat too," Mick informs me, knowing I haven't had lunch yet.

Because the man still watches me and he always knows. I think my brain must be wired wrong because that doesn't make me feel stifled; it makes me feel cherished. Looked after.

We're done with lunch and sitting together on the sofa watching the kids and Fiona play their game when Wraith arrives with Sadie's mom.

Sadie leaps from the table and runs to her mom, pulling the obviously worried woman into a hug. "It's okay, mom. Nothing happened."

Nothing happened?

I shake my head and approach the other woman whom I've seen but never met formally, my hand extended. "Hello, Mrs. Gallagher, I'm Fitz's mom, Kara Fitzgerald."

"Áine please." She darts a nervous glance toward Mick and then shakes my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fitzgerald."

"Call me Kara and this is my husband, Mick."

Áine swallows and nods toward Mick without saying anything.

Wraith makes a noise of frustration and says, "The boss isn't going to eat you."

Áine glares at Wraith. "I know that. However, I would appreciate you not making comments like that in front of my daughter and upsetting her."

"Don't worry, mom. Mr. Fitzgerald isn't like Mr. Shaughnessy," Sadie says blithely. "He's nice."

Áine looks like she's trying not to swallow her tongue. I give her a reassuring smile, though I don't agree with her daughter's claim that my husband is nice. He can be. If he wants. But that's not his default setting.

"My dad will take care of it," Fitz claims.

Which is one-hundred percent true, so I nod my agreement. "Yes, he will."

Instead of doing as I suggest, Áine spins to glare up at Wraith. "You said your name is Kieran."

Unsurprisingly, Wraith, a man of few words, doesn't respond, so I offer the explanation, hoping to allay the distrust rolling off the other mom in waves. "His name is Kieran, but his nickname is Wraith."

"I don't see it," Áine takes a step toward Wraith, her expression still accusing. "You're hardly as insubstantial as a ghost."

"But I can move as quietly as one when I need to," he replies, offering more of an explanation than I expect.

"Oh."

Sadie is looking at her mom with big eyes, like something about the way Áine is interacting with Wraith surprises her too. I'm not used to seeing anyone push their way into his personal space either, but women especially, act nervous around Wraith.

Like they do with Mick.

Wraith shifts so he's at her side and places a big hand on her much smaller shoulder, before leading her to the sofa and sitting down beside her.