My son didn’t respond. However, he remained lying on the floor with me while the laughter and screams of his brothers sounded around us as they shot at each other and continued the game of tag, blissfully unaware that our family had just been turned upside down. I turned my head and looked at Enzo. He had his eyes closed and looked both irritated and defeated at the same time, making me want to laugh.
I looked back up at the ceiling and smiled.
I knew my younger brother would be heartbroken that his baby girl was growing into a young woman—I was too—but knowing that all of our kids were healthy and happy enabled me not to dwell on it too much. I had my sons, my wife, my sisters-in-law, my nephews, and my niece. Life was good, and I knew we’d deal with this curve ball that was thrown at us just like we dealt with everything.
As a family ... and if all else failed, I’d scare the shit out of the Collins kid, so he wouldn’t look in my niece’s direction again. Either way was cool with me.
Part III
KANE
CHAPTER ONE
Present day ...
Nothing was more sickening than a stranger being in your home.
I gestured for my wife to be silent as I nudged her behind my body. Aideen and I had just gotten home from grocery shopping. It was a rare time when we didn’t have any of our kids with us. They were down in their uncle’s apartment a few floors below ours, which gave us time to quickly get some errands done. When we exited the elevator and entered our penthouse apartment, I heard muffled voices coming from one of my son’s bedrooms.
I quietly reasoned with Aideen to return to the lobby and contact the building’s security, but of course, she didn’t listen to me. We both lowered our bags to the floor as silently as we could. My wife remained rooted to my side, her hands gripping my waist as we investigated the noise. I grabbed a steel baseball bat from the hallway closet that I had just in case of a situation like this. I gripped it firmly.
“How did they get up ‘ere?” Aideen whispered, a tremor of fear in her tone. “It’s impossible without our code to the elevator.”
I had no idea how to answer her question because no one should have been able to get into our apartment without the code. Many years ago, after Aideen pleaded with me not to buy a house as she loved our home, I decided to convert the five apartments on the top floor of our apartment building into a penthouse for our family. The elevator opened into our living room, and only our family members had the code to reach this floor. The fire stairwell was designed as an exit, not an entryway. Then there was the added security of the lobby entrance password, the patrolling security guards, and the cameras that pointed at every entrance and exit.
No one should have been able to reach my apartment ... unless they knew the codes.
“Be quiet,” I said to Aideen as we approached Jax’s bedroom. “They’re in here.”
“Oh, God.”
Her hold on me tightened. I exhaled a breath, raised my hand, and pounded on the door.
“You have two seconds to get your asses out here so I can put my foot up them!”
I heard a female scream, and a male curse.
“Wait!”
I froze, then choked out, “Jax?”
Aideen rounded on me and flung the door open once she realised the intruder was our eldest son. It took two seconds for me to realise just how fucked the situation had rapidly become. My wife screamed, then the teenage girl who was hiding her naked body with my son’s bedcover screamed, then Jax paled as I roared, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He was naked as the day he was born, and the only thing saving his mother from dropping dead with shock was that fact that he cupped his meat and nut sack. It did a shit job considering his penis was erect, no doubt from the activities myself and Aideen had clearly interrupted.
“Mama, I’m sorry!”
Aideen didn’t reply. She gripped the handle of the door and pulled it shut.
“Ye’ call ‘er mama?” the girl asked Jax in a panic.
“Me da is American and so are me uncles,” Jax said in a hurried breath. “I’ve picked up on some of their terms, but I rarely call ‘er mama ... just so ye’ know. She’s normally just ma to me.”
I looked at Aideen, and we shared a ‘bullshit’ look. All of our kids, and my brother’s kids, called their mother ‘mama’ when they wanted something, or when they realised they fucked up. It was something me and my brothers did when we were little, too.
“Ten seconds, Jax,” I warned him. “Ten fucking seconds.”