Page 47 of Among the Sins of my Father

“You know my mother always enjoys your company.”

“She’s about as entertaining as a wet rag.”

Michael blinks and shakes his head. “What’s gotten into you, Mary Gorman? Have you grown a backbone suddenly?”

“It’s Mary Keating.”

Michael screws up his nose. “But is it still?” He twists the lid off a bottle of whiskey and pours some into a glass. “Your husband is gone, Mary.” He takes a sip before pouring another glass. “And as far as we can tell, so is your son.” He holds out the glass, offering the drink to Mary. Her eyes blaze as she swipes the glass away and it shatters against the wall.

Michael chuckles and downs the rest of his drink. “If I were you, I’d hold onto the only family I had left.”

Mary narrows her eyes before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“She’s always been a little overly emotional.” Michael gets out a new glass and starts to pour another drink. “I guess that’s where Dominic got it from.” He holds out the glass. “Here, I thought we could let off a little steam. It’s been a stressful few days.”

I’m tempted to copy Mary and whack the glass out of his hand. Instead I turn and walk over to the window. The underwater lights of the pool slowly change color, making it shimmer with deep blue, purple and pink. A lonely inflatable flamingo drifts across the surface, pushed by an invisible breeze.

Michael’s footsteps pad across the floor. His arm comes to circle my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. I tense.

“Don’t do that,” Michael chides in my ear. “Don’t do that around me.”

“I can’t help it,” I say, pulling away from him. “It’s a natural response.”

Michael groans. “How long are you going to keep this up?”

I whirl around. “What?”

“This.” He signals between us before downing the rest of his drink. “This resistance. You know it’s futile.” He grins lazily. “I know you want me, Everly. You always have.” He reaches out to stroke my chin and I jerk away. Annoyance flicks across his expression and he leans close, warm breath washing over my face. “You used to beg me to fuck you. Do you remember that? You’d get drunk. Hell, you’d get shitfaced and then you’d basically grind against me.”

“I don’t know what I ever saw in you, Michael Gorman.”

A smirk twitches at the corners of his lips. “Yes you do.” He picks up the drink I denied earlier and holds it out again. “Come on, Everly. Stop this fighting. Stop denying what’s right in front of you. I know you’ve got some sort of fascination with that Priest guy, but I’m your first love. I’m the one you were always supposed to be with. Can’t you put everything aside for one night and just have a little fun?”

He shakes the glass in front of me. It’s tempting. It’s tempting because it would be easy. As much as I despise Michael right now, there’s also no denying that he’s familiar. That he’s—

I shut off my thoughts and reach for the glass, throwing the contents down my throat in one go.

The grin that crosses Michael’s face is undeniable. “That’s my girl.” Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, he turns, pours another and holds it out to me. I snatch it from him, annoyed at my acquiescence.

“To us,” he says, lifting his glass into the air.

I simply glare at him and down the drink. He laughs and opens the window that leads onto the roof, beckoning for me to follow him. He drags an over-stuffed cushion out and flops down onto it, not noticing or not caring when his drink sloshes out of the glass.

“Careful,” he says when I walk to the edge of the roof. “There’ll be no jumping off and attempting escape this time. There are cameras and guards everywhere. Even if you can’t see them.”

My eyes scan the property. He’s right. It looks peaceful and tranquil with no sign of guards or cameras anywhere. Mind you, I thought the same about the Sanctuary, but they were there, just hidden.

“I was gutted you left that night. I was hoping you were going to stay with me, rekindle what we used to have.”

I take a quiet sip of my drink as Michael pulls out a cigarette and pats the empty space beside him.

“Come. Relax. Forget the nonsense that’s going on for one night and just chill.” He struggles with the flame in the breeze but eventually manages to light the cigarette and inhale. He pats the cushion again.

I sigh as I sit down. Michael holds the cigarette out and I take it, inspecting it carefully before inhaling.

“It’s not poisonous, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He laughs and places his hands behind his head, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “Well, technically it is, I guess. But just the normal sort of poison that comes in a cigarette.

His side of the cushion dips lower than mine and I have to hold myself taut to stop myself from sliding into him. I wrap my lips around the cigarette and inhale. I blink a few times as my head spins, the nicotine flooding my system. I offer it back to Michael, but he waves it away.

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