Page 7 of Filthy Secret (Five Points' Mob Collection 6)

Three

Finn

Aoife knew I was a sinner.

She’d seen that firsthand.

I’d long since passed the point of worrying about my eternal soul, but hers gave me cause for concern.

Seeing what I’d seen these last couple days, hearing what I’d heard, doing what I’d done…

I tipped my forehead forward and pressed it against hers.

“Junior and I, we found them together in the confessional. Aidan lost it. I just protected Conor. Aidan was the one who killed him.” To this day, I was still ashamed that I'd stalled. That I hadn't helped punish that bastard. "All I could remember was how I’d felt after what had happened to me, and he was younger…” I shook my head, dragging my forehead against hers.

"You caught it happening?” she asked quietly, her voice calm. Soothing.

Judgment-free.

It unlocked something in my memory banks.

Let the words form.

“We did. The second I sawthat,I knew the bastard wasn't going to make it out alive..." I released a breath and tried not to be a pussy.

Tried when just thinking back to that day was enough to trigger me.

I'd killed.

I'd tortured.

I'd maimed.

But if anything fucked with my head, it was thoughts of my stepfather and what he'd done to me.

And that day.

Witnessing Conor's abuse with my own eyes.

A visual reminder of what had been done to me in the flesh combined with knowing the kid I'd loved, part of the family who'd taken me in and who'd loved me in return, had endured what I had.

There was no peace of mind when the worst had been done to you. There was no rest, no salvation when you couldn't let go of your trauma.

I could remember the first time I'd sliced a man's collateral ligaments; only, the details were getting hazy. I couldn't remember the guy's name or why I'd punished him that way. But the feel of my stepfather’s—

Exhaling, I told myself it was better now that I knew he wasn't my biological dad, but it didn't take away from the feeling of being raped.

Couldn't.

I thought of the pain of being violated. The internal scream that never abated, that clouded the soundtrack of my life.

"Finn? Baby? Talk to me."

Aoife's soft voice was like the shock of the defibrillator against my chest, restarting my heart, making me suck down a breath.

Her smell—lavender and cotton—invaded my senses, overtaking my olfactory system.

She was here with me.

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