“How’s Lilith?” he asks without looking over at me.
“I think she’s in shock. She has barely said two words. Just cries these awful silent tears. I left her cuddled between Lev and Griff. I couldn’t,” I clear my throat, “I couldn’t sleep without some fucked up dreams.”
He reaches over and grabs me by the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him. “It’s okay to not be okay. I know you want to be strong for her and we all need to be, but you experienced trauma.” His green eyes are bloodshot.
All I can do is nod and lock my emotions down tight. “What do I need to tell Lilith when she gets up?”
“Edward is setting her up with a room in the family wing. We’ll take care of her as though she was ours.”
“She is. She’s mine.”
“I know.” He bobs his head. “We need to figure out what Michael’s wishes were regarding a funeral and burial. Do you think you can ask her or do you want to me to do it?”
“I’ll do it.” I twirl my empty glass around. “It was the Owens, wasn’t it?”
“Most likely. I have Sergei on it. We’ll have to go down to the station tomorrow to give our formal statements.”
“Like the cops will figure anything out. Owens has half of every law enforcement agency on their payroll.”
“Yeah, but we have the Russian and Irish mafias on ours.” He pours another shot in each of our glasses. “I like our odds better. To Michael.” He holds his glass up and I tap mine to it before tossing back the next shot with him.
“She’s all alone now.” I say glumly. “I wonder if she’ll want to move back to Chicago with Zion.”
“She isn’t going anywhere. Michael would want her to stay with us and finish school at Founders Prep,” Victor says with paternal protectiveness.
“You’re more protective of her than you are of your own kids.” I can’t help the bitterness that leaks into that observation.
He sighs. “I’m not. There’s something I need to tell you about your mom, the real reason she’s in Ireland and took off with your sister.” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’m aware you thought I had an affair with that young maid.”
“Yeah.” I’m not really in the mood to listen to this but my ass stays planted anyway.
“It was your mother, she and the maid had the affair. I walked into our room and found her,”
“Alright.” I hold up a hand to interrupt. I really don’t need that sentence finished. “Mom and the maid? The girl maid who was only a year older than me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s fucked up.” I meet his eyes. “Why did you let me be such an asshole to you?”
“Your mother didn’t want me to tell you.”
“If she didn’t want me to know maybe she should have kept it in her pants,” I snarl. “Does Claire know?”
“No. We weren’t going to tell either of you for now. I was hoping it was some weird midlife crisis for your mom. She’d never been with a woman before so I didn’t think too much of it. Then I walked in and she had all her shit packed.” He shakes his head. “Anyway. Don’t tell Claire.”
“Michael being killed kind of puts everything in perspective, huh?” I muse.
“It does. Connor,” he looks at me again, “you need to stop calling me Victor now that you know. It fucking pisses me off.”
“Sure thing, Vic.” I give a chuckle at his dark glare. I hold my hands up, “Kidding. I’ll work on going back to dad.”
I didn’t think coming up here I’d end up feeling so much lighter. I sure as shit did not anticipate the confession my dad laid at my feet. I stand up and dad follows suit. “I should get back downstairs in case she wakes up and needs me.”
“Yeah. I’m glad she has you boys. She’s going to need to lean on all of you and Ivy. I’m here, too. Make sure she knows that.” He pulls me in for a tight hug. I can’t remember the last time he hugged me, maybe a couple years ago. Definitely not since I grew bigger than him. “I love you, son.”
“I love you, too, dad.” Another thing we haven’t done in years, say I love you.
30