Chapter 30

Thirty

P addy

The sheer violence of what happened was finally sinking in. For the first time in years, the images I was forced to see disturbed me. Moore…he was dead. His lifeless eyes would probably haunt me for a while. I couldn't…I couldn't believe the man who had selflessly carried me when I couldn't walk myself, had died by my hand. My heart was heavy. My heart was so heavy.

But there were things I could control in this moment, so I had to get a grip. What disturbed me most was Pretty, covered in her husband's blood. She was too pure for this kind of thing. She couldn't be around this.

"Where's Elijah?" I turned to Pretty, hoping he was someplace both safe, not far enough where he couldn't easily walk in on this.

"I brought him downstairs," she admitted, stammering.

"Good. It means he hasn't heard anything." A small relief over a major problem.

"I figured he would be safer down there. I told him to hide in a closet and don't come out unless I specifically told him to."

Pretty put her hand to her chest, finally letting it sink in that Vernon was also gone and she couldn't turn back the clock. "Oh my god, what am I going to tell Elijah? How am I going to explain what I did to his father?" She spoke through uncontrollable sobs.

"Pretty, I can fix this, but there's some things you gotta do?—"

"I'm so sorry, Paddy. I'm sure I made things worse?—"

"You did what you had to. You saved yourself and you saved your son. That's the only thing that's important for now. But I need you to be calm right now," as I touched her face, staining it with Moore's blood in efforts to comfort her.

"I just couldn't let him kill you," she kept crying, unable to keep her emotions in check.

"Pack that up. Right now you can't be like this. Remember that person I told you that you gotta be when I taught you how to fire a gun?" She nodded.

"Well, that's who I'm gonna need you to be. You gotta be strong, even though you don't really wanna be," not even realizing I was taking my own advice. "And I need you to get yourself cleaned up. Anything you touched with blood on it, you gotta clean that up, or tell me what you touched, okay?"

"Okay." She spoke in a weak voice.

"When you're done with that, you gotta give me your clothes, so I can get rid of them?—"

"What are you gonna do?" She interrupted.

"I'm an Irish gangster," repeating back her words. "This is what I do. I'm giving you one last job and that's making sure Elijah stays put. That kid's been through enough and he don't need to see his father like this. I can make this look like it happened someplace else but you and Elijah are gonna have to get your stories straight. Can you do that for me?" As she nervously nodded and I sent her off.

Once alone, I nervously paced and swore at the top of my lungs, letting out one last desperate cry for Moore and everything I was walking away from after this. It seemed like I had done this shite a hundred times, but I had never had to do it with a friend.

Packing all that anger, all that fear, all the resentment and grief you were supposed to feel in such high intensity moments like this, I turned it off and became the raven. Calmly walking to the first phone I could, I dialed órfhlaith's number, not surprised when Bellamy answered.

"Any of you got a minute?"

***

The weeks that passed that gruesome day still weighed heavy on me. A lot of things went unsaid as Pretty and me mutually agreed that it was in the best interest of everyone to take some time to breathe so everyone could properly grieve. I hadn't even seen her since Vernon's funeral.

Moore hadn't had family, so I took care of his burial arrangements myself and honored him with at least a wake, just in case an army buddy or two wanted to pay their respects.

Even though I hadn't liked how things went down, I had been privy to my job ever since I met Vernon, and that was to protect Pretty. In doing so, she had lost her husband, and in doing so, I had lost a mate who had held a special place for me.

The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions. As I looked down at his tombstone, I mourned the man who had not only saved my life, but gave me a life as well. "Moore, you eejit. You pulled your gun on me. Lord, why'd you have to pull your gun on me?" I said, teary eyed, fixing myself before I went on.

"Once you did that, I knew one of us wasn't walking out of there. I wanted you to have a lifetime to find yourself. It never mattered to me who you loved. I just wanted you to make it so the next time I saw you wouldn't be visiting a place like this. I'm fucking mad at you, but I understand why you did what you did. Love. It makes strong men like us weak. And for a woman like Pretty, I would have killed for her too."

Reaching in my pocket, I placed his dog tags on his tombstone, readying myself to meet my siblings, as I asked them to come here so I could share with them my truth.

They probably thought I was still mourning my friend as they showed up, respectfully dressed, spotting me quickly. "It's been two weeks, Pad. Moore ain't exactly going anywhere," Bellamy offhandedly joked.

When I assured them we weren't here for Moore, I silently led the four of them to a grave site that read Connor Mulligan . "Pad, you okay?" órfhlaith comforted, squeezing my shoulder, confused to why I had brought them here.

"I have to tell you guys something. Something I've been carrying a while now. Something I can't carry by myself no more." I swallowed hard, looking down at the tombstone. "You know, I thought I'd feel something. Or maybe visiting it would explain something in me that I never been able to explain. But I don't feel anything," I woefully admitted.

"Who the hell is this?" Cillian impatiently questioned.

"When I tell you, you might be resistant at first. But before Pa died, he told me I might not be his. And if I wasn't, this would be the man who likely fathered me," I admitted, in a defeated huff.

It was quiet at first, as I imagined shock and disbelief was swimming through their mixed emotions. "Well, say something!" I said, annoyed by the silence.

"I admit I had my suspicions," Tadhg calmly answered first. "One day his number two was here. The next day he wasn't. Wasn't hard to put two and two together." Tadhg had worked with and for Pa the longest, and those types of things he silently observed better than anyone.

"I don't understand. Mum was unfaithful?" Cillian asked, hurt and confusion of his tone.

"We're still brothers, Cilly. I just may not?—"

"I don't want to hear this horse shite!" Bellamy interrupted, unable to hide his anger. "My little brother's a fucking Sullivan."

Bellamy held my face in his hands, to make me look him in the eye. "My brother got beat the shite out of him, like a Sullivan. My brother fucks like a Sullivan. He fucking kills like a Sullivan. You are a Sullivan."

Bellamy aggressively pointed to the tombstone, rage fueling his words. " This is not your father. Pa is. You even put your mate down, so if anything, you're more like our father than we are. You are Oisín's son! And I better not hear this shite mentioned ever again." Bellamy stormed off, putting as much distance between himself and the grave.

órfhlaith, being the only one equipped to comfort me, asked if I was ok and if I wanted something specific when we reached her home. Cillian still seemed shaken up by the news. I'm sure it hurt to realize our childhood was basically a lie. He had a chance to do better, which he was doing every day. But you couldn't get rid of the hurt behind the truth.

Tadhg was ok. Or at least, in the way Tadhg dealt with things. If anything, he was the strongest of us in that regard. Who knows the kinds of secrets he's been forced to keep outside of what we did .

After today, I came to terms that I was, and always would be, a Sullivan. According to my siblings, they'd always see me as one too.

***

I was in a bad way once everything calmed down, so it'd been a good idea to stay with órfhlaith for a while. At least I felt useful when I was here, and for my mental health, I didn't think I could be alone right now.

Even with all my losses, at least I had family. Pushing my feelings down had made me numb in the last few weeks, but it was for the greater good. I worked better when I was numb.

Honestly, with me gone an entire month, there'd been plenty to do when I got back, as there'd been assignment kills Tadhg admitted he couldn't trust with anyone else. I was happy to get back to work, honestly it just gave me something to do to get my mind off… her .

Most times, if I wasn't taking care of business, I didn't leave the house for more than long drives and confession.

A light knock came at my door, and despite it being on the gentler side, it still made me jump up, given it was random. órfhlaith popped her head inside the door. "Hey, Pad. Think you can take a look at a leak I've got in the kitchen?"

"No repairman?" I suspiciously questioned.

"You said you didn't fancy strange men in the house, unless you're here. I haven't made time to call one. Wanted to see if it was even necessary, so I'm asking you."

"Fine, I'll be right down." Readying myself to assess the damage, oblivious to the fact órfhlaith hadn't followed me, when I reached the kitchen, I finally knew why.

There had been no leak at all. Pretty sat at órfhlaith's kitchen table, coming to a stand when I entered the room. "What are you doing here?" I asked defensively.

Well, you haven't exactly been taking my phone calls. Or at the very least answering my letters," she said, as she pulled off her gloves. "I wanted to see for myself that you were all right."

"Well, you see now. Happy?" refusing to give her more than a glance. If I gave her more than that, then I'd notice how beautiful she looked, and how much I bloody missed her.

"Can we talk in private?" She asked in a desperate, yet sympathetic tone.

"Pretty you said enough to me that day we agreed to cool down." Her words, they fucking destroyed me. But maybe it was because that's how I felt about myself. That I was everyone's mistake. Hearing that from the woman you loved just made you feel small.

"Paddy, please . I have too much to say to you to just leave."

"Fine!" Giving in, as I led her to the room I stayed in, closing the door behind us. We both sat on the bed, but I was committed to not giving more than one glance. Being around her was hard enough.

"I really miss you." Her voice heavy and teary eyed.

"Yeah, well, I missed you too, but my pride can't go over all the things you said to me that day."

"I know Paddy, and I'm so sorry?—"

"You ripped my heart out Pretty. And then, you seared it on a grill and you served it up to me. Loving you made me stupid. I'm just not ready to put myself through that again." Ashamed at how much pain I let her words cause.

"Paddy, I know what I said to you was wrong. Most of what I said was out of frustration and anger, fear. I thought my life was falling apart."

"Yeah, well, with those words, my world did," I interrupted.

"I know, and I'm sorry. You were always there for me and when you needed me I wasn't. You didn't deserve that. Especially given Elijah and I might not have even walked out alive had it not been for you."

"You fucking gutted me, Pretty," I cried, tears welling up making my voice sound hoarse. "I was willing to let Moore blow my fucking brains out for you. Without you, I felt like I had nothing to live for."

"Paddy, it pains me so much to hear the father of my children say such horrible things about himself," she said, joining me in the tear match.

"Pretty, I love Elijah, but I really wasn't trying to replace Vernon as his father. I just wanted to be there for both of you."

"I wasn't talking about Elijah," Pretty interrupted, as the room got quiet once it sunk in what she said. "It can only be yours," she said, to confirm.

Finally able to look her in the eye, the beautiful storm running down her face made my heart instantly sink. It was like I was seeing her for the first time. "Pretty, I'm not even sure I deserve it. Up until now, life has shown me what it thinks I deserve. So far, that's been nothing."

"Paddy, my tears are for you . They've been since the moment we were forced to share space. I've cried for you every day since we've been apart. I've been so lost without you. If you ever decided you were strong enough to forgive me, I would spend every waking moment proving to you how worthy of love you are. How much you mean to me, how much your sweet girl needs you ."

"That's it, you're fucking marrying me. Ain't no woman of mine gonna be walking around a dishonest woman."

Pretty leaned in and kissed me, stopping me from finishing my sentence, as I backed away, admiring her tear-stained face. I wiped the side of one cheek, in awe of her brown skin, brown eyes, and beautifully sculpted face. "Look how beautiful you look, my sweet girl."

As if on command, she smiled at the sound of that. "I can't wait to make you cry tears of pain and pleasure again. We're gonna get married before we sin again, but I'll be literally counting down the moments until my nightingale sings for me."