Page 2 of Dust to Dust

“As the head enforcer, I’m exactly what you taught me to be, aren’t I?”

“And I’m the head of your fucking family!”

Callum spit at my father’s feet. “You’re nothing more than a fucking coward when you hit your own daughter.”

“I don’t give a shite what you think.”

At that moment, we were interrupted by the butler announcing the first guest had arrived. Reluctantly, I pulled my hands off of him. “Mallacht Dé ort,” I spat before stalking off. I did hope for God’s curse on him. He was a scourge on our family for sure.

Hours later the bastard who had sired us now stood in the center of the room, basking in the adulation from the crowd. His chest puffed out when anyone complimented Maeve’s piano playing. “The angel told me she wanted nothing more than to play for my birthday. Who could possibly tell her no?”

“Fucking cunt,” I muttered into my whiskey.

“I’ll second that,” Callum said as he sidled up next to me. “Nice work earlier.”

“Thank you. I only wish I could’ve saved Mae the sting.”

“Aye. I agree.” Callum’s usually blue eyes darkened to black as he stared at our father. “I’m going to end him one of these days.”

“Sooner than later, I hope.”

We fell into silence then. After all, what else can there be said after voicing a shared desire for patricide? Instead, we surveyed the crowd and sipped our whiskey.

With a sardonic twist of his lips, Callum asked, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.”

He grinned. “Aye. I’d rather fuck Father Leahy’s sister again than be here tonight.”

A laugh burst from my lips at the reference to Callum’s previous night’s escapades. “Was she really that bad?”

Callum’s eyes bulged. “Besides the fact she tied me up and beat the shite out of me with a riding crop, she wanted to take me up the arse. Like she actually had the strap-on thing in her drawer.”

“Maybe you should’ve tried it. I’ve never been one to say no to a tongue or a finger in mine,” I teased.

“Cop on to yourself, arsehole.”

I laughed at his remark of taking it too far. “What do you bet Dare has?”

Callum snorted. “Aye. Or at least a vibrator.”

“Who would’ve guessed a priest would have such a kinky sister?” I mused.

“Not me for damn sure.”

As I once again surveyed the crowd, my gaze honed in on the man talking to my father. He appeared to be close to mine and Callum’s age. It wasn’t the first time tonight that I’d noticed him with my father.

Nodding my whiskey at the two of them, I asked, “Whose that fecker sniffing around Da?”

Callum’s expression darkened. “You’ve been in Boston too long if you don’t remember him.That’s Oisinn O’Toole.”

“The arsehole who used to torture animals in the neighborhood and get the shite beat out of him by the older kids?”

With a snort, Callum replied, “Aye, that’s the one.”

“Why the feck is Da giving that ejit any attention?”

“Since we’ve been gone, that ejit, as you rightfully call him, has somehow made a name for himself and his branch of the O’Toole family. They’ve edged out the Walsh’s and the Doyle’s to be the most powerful family in the city.”

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