Filthy (Five Points' Mob Collection #1) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,161

doors for them, to help them out of cars, to ease them into a seat at the dining table.

Little gestures, but ones that were respectful and loving.

When she slipped her hand into mine, she shot me a knowing look. I’d never said that she had to act like a ‘lady’ around Aidan, but she was remarkably perceptive.

When a throat cleared, my head shot up and I saw Aidan glowering at me from the house. When Aoife was out of the car, I slammed the door shut, glowering back at Aidan all throughout the walk to the front door.

“Why weren’t you at church?”

“Because I’ll be going when I want to go from now on.”

Aidan’s eyes flared wide, rage pooling like fire bombs in the orbs that were, I realized, mirror images of my own.

How had I not seen that?

At my side, Aoife tensed, and I knew she was expecting Aidan to blow at any moment. But I didn’t. I watched him. Coolly. Calmly. I didn’t care if he was angry. I didn’t even care if he was outraged. I was going to live by my own rules—just like he fucking did.

Like father. Like son.

I jerked my chin up, telling him to back the fuck off, and his jaw clenched down as he took a step back. His body screamed aggression and I knew, had this been any other Sunday, he’d have probably punched me for my barefaced impudence.

Instead, he conceded to me, and I stepped into the house with my bride at my side.

I could sense her nerves as she approached Aidan. She put her hands to his arms and leaned up to kiss his cheek. All the while he stared at me, and I stared the fuck back. He patted her in the middle of her shoulders in greeting, then murmured, “Leave us, Aoife.”

“N-No,” she squeaked, turning to look at me, but I shook my head at her.

“It’s okay, Aoife. Go on in.”

She begged me with her eyes to go with her, but I had to get this off my chest and Aidan needed to hear it.

When she released a heavy sigh and stepped back, heading for the living room that was just off the hall where everyone congregated, Aidan and I were left alone.

“What’s your game, son?”

“Don’t use the word as a weapon unless you don’t want me to call you Dad,” I threatened.

He shrugged. “It’s time the boys knew.”

“When you want to, tell them. But don’t involve me in it. I know I’m not fucking happy with a three-and-a-half decade long lie.”

A grunt escaped him, and he pointed outside. “Let’s talk.”

“Sure,” I informed him easily, stepping back down the short stone path that led to the graveled drive.

When he joined me, we both strode in tense silence to the backyard, which was wall-to-wall lawn. Manicured so perfectly, I had to wonder if Aidan had threatened the gardener’s life to make it so.

“What’s your game?” he repeated.

With my eyes overlooking the large yard, I shoved my hands into my pockets and told him, “I’m not willing to run by all your rules anymore.” When he tensed at my side, I carried on, “You’re my father. Even before I knew that to be true, I always thought of you that way, and I love you. I will until the day one of us dies. I love Lena, too. She’s the mother I wish I’d had since birth.

“You’re my boss as well. And I get that, and I will abide by most of your rules. But I’m not as devout as you. I’m Catholic, and I’ll go to the special masses, but I’m not going to confess just for the sake of following a rule. I’m not going for communion just because you said so.

“You’ve shown me that we each have to make our own code. This is mine.”

“And what if I say you have no right to have your own code?” Aidan threatened, his voice gravelly with discontent.

“I say you have no choice in the matter.” I looked at him, really looked and saw the lines around his forehead and eyes. He wasn’t getting younger—neither was I. “I’m not going to rebel. I’m just… making my own way. I don’t want to see any of the wet work. I’m tired of the blood. I don’t want it on my hands.”

“Whether you see it or not, it still happens.”

“I know, but that’s not on me.” I shrugged. “I’ve never had the stomach for that shit. You know that. I hated it