Page 71 of Vengeful Vows

I frown. I know for a fact that my father isn’t first generation Irish, so the Burkes are older than the Murphy clan.

From the way my father talked about them, I guess I thought that the Murphys were more established than the Burkes.

But just that is no reason to hate my father. I assume there’s more.

“The Burke clan started up in this city much like we had in Dublin,” Patrick continued. “I’m not saying that we were saints, God would strike me down if I did. But we stayed away from two things: kids and women. I even had cousins that dabbled in prostitution, but when it became forceful, I forced them to stop... with any means necessary.”

I gulped.

Patrick Burke is a dangerous man, especially if he went after his own cousins for prostitution.

“My father has never run girls,” I say, and Patrick raises an eyebrow, smiling bitterly.

“Is that so, now?”

I frown, standing my ground. “He’s never brought any girls around the house, and I’ve been there for several shipments.”

“Shipments he stole from us?” Gray asks, and Patrick gives him a hard stare.

“It’s not the time, Gray.”

Gray hangs his head, and puts his hands in his lap, seemingly chagrined.

“Your father runs young girls,” Declan murmurs. “Underage. I recently spoke to one of them, and we’re trying to help them get out.”

I gasp. “You’re lying.”

But some part of me knows that he’s not. There’s money coming into the household that shouldn’t be, that isn’t explained by guns or drugs. But young girls? Underage?

I can’t believe it. Don’t want to believe my father would stoop so low.

“I wish I was, princess.” Declan brushes a tear I didn’t know was running down my cheek.

“Maybe he fell in with the wrong people,” I say shakily. “Maybe?—”

“He runs it,” Gray says flatly. “He’s been running it for years. We’ve kept it under control, trying to intercept shipments of women, but we can’t be everywhere all the time.”

I look at Gray, and then Patrick, and then Declan. All of them are stone-faced, serious. They are not gloating. Not having fun with this.

They’re not lying to me.

I take in another shaking breath. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

Declan puts an arm around me, drawing me close.

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them again, and when he does, there are tears in his piercing gray eyes.

“I wish that that were the end, a’stor,” he utters, and I find my heart going out to him.

I don’t even know what he’s going to say, I couldn’t predict it if I tried, but I can see the pain lining his face.

Paige starts to sob softly, and Lara strokes her hair.

Even Gray looks down, his shoulders slumped. He runs his hand through his head and the longer hair on top gets a bit disheveled.

“My wife was in a car accident,” Patrick starts, his voice raspy and gruff. “Maureen.” He gestures to a picture of a gorgeous brunette hanging on the wall, her head thrown back as she swung a baby around.

“That’s me,” Gray says roughly, and I smile a little.