Because for all she’d let me make them into the men they were today, and for all that would make her a sinner in another mother’s eyes, there was nothing more important than the eternity in paradise that was awaiting us once this miserable life was over.
What mother, who loved her kids as much as Lena did, what father, who loved his boys as much as I did, wouldn’t want those same children to be in heaven with them? To be at peace after a lifetime’s war?
"The children can hear, Aidan," Lena told me softly, and I heard the chiding note to the words, a reprimand that she’d never have given me at one point.
It’d taken a rolling pin to the head to make me see her for what she was—my soul mate. Only when I’d pushed her past her limits had she opened herself up to me, revealing that we were two peas in a pod. Two beings capable of the worst thing humanity had to offer. Two monsters who could only find peace in each other’s arms. "Jacob won’t stop crying, and Shay’s nervous. He knows what you’re doing."
"I have no choice."
She frowned. "It’s Christmas. Of course you have a choice." She tutted as she raised a hand and pressed it to my forehead. "What have you been doing with yourself?" Uncaring of the gore on me, uncaring of the mess, the blood on me, she stepped nearer and repeated, "I thought I told you you weren’t allowed to do that anymore?" She was talking about banging my head into walls. "You promised me you’d stop that, Aidan."
I swallowed at her reprimand. "I know I did. I didn’t even know I was doing it."
Her scowl deepened. "What’s going on?"
Once upon a time, I’d never have told her.
Then the Aryans had taken her. Then they’d broken her. Then I’d broken them. Then I’d taken them. There was a symmetry in everything, but only the truth had helped my Lena. Only knowing what I’d done to them had helped her sleep at night, better than any chemicals the doctor could prescribe.
I pushed forward until my bloody forehead was pressing against her clean, unmarred, unsullied brow.
Raising my hands, I cupped her cheeks while she slipped her arms around my waist and held me close, bracing herself for what was to come.
She knew me well enough to know that something was coming.
Something bad.
Something heinous enough to make me ruin Christmas.
"Conor was..."
"Conor was, what? What’s he done now? That boy, I swear," she heaved a sigh. "If he’s broken into that NSA place again, then—"
"No, nothing like that, sweetheart." I pulled back and pressed a kiss to her lips. "He’s a good boy."
"The best," she said immediately, her smile turning misty. "They all are. We did a good job, didn’t we, Aidan?"
A choked breath escaped me. "We did. We did the best we could. We saved them from what we went through."
I reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. It was no longer the scarlet of our past, but a faded amber, and I loved it as much now as I had when I’d unveiled her on our wedding day. She’d been a possession back then, though. Now she owned me.
Funny how the good Lord worked.
"What’s he done, Aidan? You’re scaring me."
"I didn’t mean to, sweetheart." I hushed her and tightened my arms around her. "I just learned something that we have to keep between ourselves. Only Junior and Finn know the truth."
She tensed. "What is it?"
"Our boy—" I gritted my teeth as tears burned my eyes. "Our beautiful boy..." A sob escaped me. "H-He was molested."
She tensed in my arms. "Why are you saying that? Don’t say things like that! Why would you say that?" she screamed as the salt in my tears made my eyes sting harder.
"It’s true, baby, it’s true." I held her tighter, keeping her so close that I could rock her in my arms. Soothe a pain that couldn’t be soothed. Heal a wound that would always be open. Necrotic. Turning our living flesh into a blackened mass. "One of the priests—"
"No!" she wailed, struggling in my grip. "No!"
I felt that pain in my soul. I felt it in my heart. I felt it in my fucking head. In my eyes. In my mouth. In my hands and in my feet.