Page 13

Her eyes flash with anger, fear and just a glimmer of desire. I can't tell anymore. Seven years has dulled my ability to read her.

"I should check on Conor," she says.

"Maeve." I catch her arm. "Tell him who I am. Tonight. He deserves to know."

She pulls away. "You don't get to decide what he deserves, not yet. When he's ready I will tell him."

"The Russians didn't leave us that luxury. There isn’t always time, tell him please."

A noise from upstairs makes us both look up. Conor stands at the top of the stairs.

"Russians?" he asks.

"Go back to your room," Maeve tells him.

"Are they the bad men who broke our windows?"

"Yes, they are. But I'm going to take care of them."

Conor looks at me, his small face so much like mine it hurts. "How? Will they get detention too?"

"That's grown-up business," Maeve interrupts.

"But—"

"Conor, please."

He turns and disappears back down the hall.

"I need to go," I tell Maeve. "Stay here. Stay safe."

"What if you don't come back?"

"I'll come back. We’re not done talking."

I grab my jacket and keys, pausing at the door. "There's a gun in the kitchen drawer. Third one down. You know how to use it?"

She nods, face pale. "My boyfriend taught me in high school, remember."

"Good. Don't hesitate if someone gets in."

I leave before I can change my mind, before I can give in to the urge to stay and never let them out of my sight again.

I punch Cormac's number into my phone.

"We need to talk," I say when he answers.

"Where have you been? You disappeared from the wake."

"I've been busy finding out I have a son."

Silence on the line.

"Meet me at Quinn's in twenty minutes," he finally says.

I hang up and start the car. I fled Dublin once to protect Maeve. This time, I am staying right here.

No one threatens my family and lives.