Page 89 of The Thief
"What do you want to know?" I ask.
"Everything. I missed eighteen years of your life." Henry's voice is careful, like he's afraid of saying the wrong thing. "Start with your mother. How was she after... after everything fell apart?"
My mother. Christ, where do I even begin with that mess?
"She never wanted to be a mam," I say finally. "When Dad was around, she'd always try to be part of the family, but she just didn't have it in her. After Dad died, it was like she was done. She packed her bags and was gone. She left for London without saying goodbye."
Pain flickers across Henry's face. "I should have found you sooner. Should have brought you both home before things got that bad."
"Mam would never have let me come."
"She was probably scared. Your father told me once that she lived in constant fear that something would happen to him, to you. That fear ate away at her until there was nothing left."
I don't believe that. Looking back, I don't think she loved either me or my dad; she just liked the life my dad gave her. Hell, before Dad died, she had a boyfriend in London. My dad always showed me he loved me, and always made me feel as though I was wanted. My mam on the other hand, she did the exact opposite. "She made me feel like I was a burden my entire life."
"That's not true. Your father's death had nothing to do with you."
"How can you be sure?"
Henry leans forward, his eyes intense. "Because I know what happened that night in Chicago. Killian died because of a war that was started over territory. He didn't die because he was distracted by thoughts of you."
The words hit like a physical blow. "What do you mean, a war over territory?"
"As you know, I am head of the family. I give instructions for others to follow. When things started to work out on the East Coast of America, I instructed my son-in-law, Liam, to make moves into territories in Chicago. The Masters family weren't happy that we were making moves in Chicago. One night, one of Masters' sons thought he'd take out Hayden, your cousin. Instead, Hayden killed him and in return the Masters wanted revenge. They waited five years to take it and they did. They killed your father, and they killed Hayden's wife's little sister. Vivianna was only fourteen when she died. "
I sit back, processing. All this time I've been carrying guilt about Dad's death, wondering if my very existence somehow led to it. And all this time, it was just another casualty of a war.
"Tell me about him," I say. "Really tell me. Not the sanitized version for family dinners, but who he actually was."
Henry's smile is sad, proud, and complicated. "Your father was the best of us. Strong enough to lead, smart enough to know when not to fight, and loyal enough to die for the people he loved."
"But?"
"But he had a soft heart in a hard world. He was always trying to save people, protect people, give them choices he never had."
"Like keeping me away from all this."
"Exactly like that. He thought if you never knew what you were missing, you'd never have to choose between safety and family."
"Did he ever regret it? Keeping me separate?"
Henry's quiet for a long moment, choosing his words carefully. "He missed you. Constantly. Every family gathering, every holiday, every important moment, he was thinking about you. Wondering what you were doing, how you were growing up, what kind of woman you were becoming."
"But he never came to get me."
"Because he thought you were better off without it. Without this world."
"Was I?"
"I don't know. Were you happy in Belfast? Pulling pints, dodging grabby drunks, watching life pass you by?"
The question stings because it's accurate. "No. I felt... stuck. Like I was waiting for something that was never going to come."
"Maybe what you were waiting for was this. Family. Purpose. A place where you belong."
"And if I decide I don't belong here?"
"Then that's your choice. But I hope you'll give us a chance first. Give me a chance to be the grandfather I should have been all along."
