Page 7 of It Was Always You

“And I will. When I’ve had more than a handful of hours to wrap my head around this shit.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else, after all, you are clearly your mother’s daughter.” Meeting his eyes — eyes identical to mine— we share a look that convoys how fucked up this is for both of us before I make an effort to switch the conversation to something that’s been scratching at my brain since last night.

“Owen?”

“His Dad, Seamus, is my underboss, so yes. He’s always known and been a part of this. As has Abigail.” At this, he looks sheepish.

“My Abigail?” Next thing you know I’m going to be told Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy are real too.

“Jack, her father, is one of my Capos, so when I asked him if he’d enrol his little girl in the same school as you so I’d have an excuse to catch glimpses of you, he agreed. Owen going there had nothing to do with me, and neither of them knew anything about you being my daughter until last night.” He retrieves two photo albums from a shelf under his desk before taking a seat beside me.

“But how did you even know what school I went to in the first place?” If the whole point of Mum leaving him before I was born was to keep my identity a secret, then she wouldn’t have been in contact with him.

“We’d already picked out your name before she left, and since she never took me up on my offer to create a fake ID for her, I knew your surname. In this digital age, that makes it shockingly easy to track someone. Plus, I had a security detail keeping an eye on you. But most importantly, St. Theresa’s is funded and run by the Four Points. It serves as a safe place for our kids and to educate future recruits.” As he talks, more and more things start clicking into place.

How everyone seemed to know each other, despite being in different years. How the teachers turned a blind eye to the many cuts and bruises that littered my classmates when normally kids showing up injured at school would trigger a call to social services.

“If it’s meant to be exclusive to the Four Points, then why is there a public scholarship for other kids to get a full ride? That’s a security risk waiting to happen,” I muse aloud.

“The short answer is there isn’t. Not normally. It’s something I fabricated for your safety. Considering the man who attacked you last night works for the Clan, a different mafia faction, it’s clear that was the right call. I need you to understand the dangers and let me keep you safe.” At my stunned silence, he changes course as he presses a photo album into my frozen hands, “These are the only photos I have of Helen but I thought you might like to look at them, if not now then at some point.” Silence blankets us as I try to find something, anything, to say. But honestly, what I need most is time—time to come to terms with what he’s told me and time to untangle the knot of emotions in my stomach.

With a final squeeze of his hand, I make my excuse to leave. Albeit disappointed, he doesn’t fight me on it; just insists that the Finlay brothers will shadow me.

A short car ride and exchange of numbers later, Aidan insisted on doing a quick walkthrough before they deemed my apartment safe. With promises to text them if I needed anything or wanted to go anywhere, I locked the door and slumped against it under the weight of my shifted perspective of the world.

So much has changed in such a short space of time I can’t even begin to wrap my head around it all. But one thing that hasn’t changed is that my apartment is my safe space. Sure it’s nowhere near as extravagant as Jonathan’s place and it’s a little on the smaller size, but it’s home.

Curling up on the sofa, I brace myself and flip through the photo albums slowly, studying the pictures. It’s strange seeing Mum so clearly in love, something I never got to witness. As far as I can remember she spent all her time working as a receptionist for a local doctor’s office and taking care of me. We did everything together to the point I don’t even remember her having friends around.

Parched, I wander into the kitchen to get a drink before heading to my room, and right then, my phone chimes with a text.

Text Chat

UNKNOWN: Hey it’s Owen, I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.

CORA: Um hey, how did you get my number?

CORA: And I’m…okay I guess…or I will be in a day ortwo

OWEN: A man never reveals his secrets ;)

OWEN: I know we haven’t talked since school but if you need to talk, I’m here, yeah?

CORA: Stalker lol

CORA: Thank you, I might just take you up on that sometime

CORA: Also I’m sorry Jonathan woke you up last night because of me

OWEN: Don’t worry about it, I was glad to be able to help :)

Chapter 6

As much as there are times in life when we wish we could hit the pause button, we can’t. So while I would have loved to bury my head in the sand for a few days and ignore everything, that wasn’t an option. However, what was an option was dodging Jonathan’s calls with excuses of being busy at work while I had my internal spiral.

So when Abbie suggests a girls’ night so that I can rant and process things, I seize the opportunity. If you can’t vent to your best friend about having a mobster dad, then who can you vent to? I’m greeted by her typical whirlwind of enthusiasm—a tangle of limbs and floral perfume—as soon as she opens the door. Soon, we’re settled on her sofa, wine and ice cream in hand.

“Girl, you look like you need this more than I do.” She laughs, handing me the bottle.

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