Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“Yeah. I did.”
He stared. He’d half expected Teague to deny it. “That’s all you have to say for yourself.”
“What the fuck do you want me to say? You know what it was like living in that house under his thumb. You know what our life entails. I didn’t see any other way out.”
“That’s no excuse.” He’d felt exactly that trapped more often than not, but he never would have hurt the ones he loved in order to be free.
“I know.” Teague scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t go back and change things. And I wouldn’t, because that fed is the reason I’m still alive today.”
“That’s no excuse for feeding him intel that could hurt us.”
His smiled grimly. “And yet the O’Malleys still stand and the only person in prison is Victor Halloran.” He held up a hand. “There’s nothing I can say to fix this. I know it. You know it. I don’t expect you to trust me again—but you were never going to, because I’m married to a Sheridan now.”
Aiden nodded to concede the truth. Teague’s loyalties lay with his wife and their new family. It should be that way. But that didn’t erase the sting of the betrayal of his own family…
Aiden sighed, suddenly exhausted. They could keep beating this dead horse until the day they died. That’s what Victor Halloran, Colm Sheridan, and their father had done for decades, until no one could pinpoint exactly what it was that had created the conflict in the first place. The only outcome of that path was a whole lot of heartache and, eventually, someone they cared about getting killed. That was how their world worked.
“You know,” Teague said suddenly, “we found out this week that Callie’s having a boy.”
Aiden blinked. “I hadn’t heard.”
“We aren’t exactly announcing it.” Teague sat back. “We’re going to name him Devlin. I’d like you to be his godfather.”
His chest tightened and he couldn’t draw a full breath. “Teague—”
“We tried it our father’s way. We can sit here and throw stones at each other and keep making the same goddamn mistakes for the next fifty years…Or maybe we can try a different direction.”
Ultimately, the future was in Aiden’s hands. He could keep pushing this. Teague wouldn’t roll over and play dead—not with Callie and Moira and little Devlin on the way—and there was no way everyone would walk unscathed from that confrontation.
Or he could let it go.
Carrigan had given voice to something he’d been mulling over for months. Boston was stable for the first time in several generations. Even things with Romanov were at a mild simmer—and could possibly stay that way once they dealt with the Eldridges. Starting shit for the sake of some archaic idea of loyalty to family above all else…
If Seamus had been a different father, their family would have functioned differently. Aiden wasn’t prepared to lay the blame fully at his father’s feet, but ignoring the part he’d played in the whole thing was ridiculous.
He and Teague and Carrigan—and even Sloan—had a chance to heal the wounds of their fathers.
All he had to do was take the olive branch Teague was extending.
He looked over and met Charlie’s gaze as she chatted with Callie. He could feel her emotional support even across the distance, and it struck him that if Charlie could still see the good in people after all the terrible shit that had been done directly to her, he was being petty as fuck for even considering letting this peace offering go unmet. He managed what he hoped was a reassuring smile for her and twisted to face Teague again.
The hope in his brother’s dark eyes actually hurt to look at.
“I look forward to meeting this godson of mine. Devlin, huh?”
Teague shrugged, though his expression was now full of emotion. Relief. Happiness. Hope. “Devlin was the best of us. It seemed wrong to pick any other name for our son.”
“I like it. I think he’d approve.” And for the first time in three long years, Aiden actually felt something resembling peace about his younger brother’s death. As if a jagged broken piece had slid into place to create something completely new.
This night had been unexpected across the board. He and Teague and Carrigan weren’t going to go merrily skipping through a field of daisies—and they might never have the same close relationships that they had before everything went to shit, but…it was a start.
And he had Charlie to thank for it.
On that note, he leaned toward Teague and lowered his voice further. “I’m prepared to put this all behind us, but there’s something I need in exchange.” Charlie would never forgive him if he had the cops who’d hurt her removed completely, but there was another avenue available. It had the added bonus of tangling up Romanov, but he couldn’t pretend that was his motivation as he laid out what he wanted.