Filthy Christmas (The Five Points’ Mob Collection #11)

Chapter 1

ONE

“O’DONNELLYS ASSEMBLE!”

Star’s hundred-decibel shout had me rubbing my temples. Both of them. Simultaneously. “For fuck’s sake.”

A malicious gleam appeared in her eyes. “Late night?”

I ignored her and, instead, watched as the mass of women and children’s heads turned to face my former BFF.

I swore—if she weren’t so handy with a knife, I’d make her regret that whistle.

Of course, the mischief I literally made tumbled into my lap, her inquisitive eyes—Aidan’s eyes—switching between her aunt and me. Her little, pointy elbows and knees didn’t give a damn that they dug into soft, squishy bits as she plunked herself into a prime spot for the gossip.

Nosy.

Third totally inherited that from me.

As I hugged her to me, enjoying the faint traces of baby powder and milk, I refused to cry. Because if I did, it scared her, and I never wanted her to be scared.

Plus, there was no need to cry.

So what if Aidan had frozen me out last night?! Just because he’d never done that before, ever, well, so. What?!

Grabbing Cameron’s hands before he could snag another cinnamon roll, Aela blew out a puff of hair that clung to her brow. “What’s going on, Star? I told you not to do that. It drives me insane. Also, we’re not dogs.”

“That’s what she said,” Star chirped. “Anyway, I have good news.”

Eyes wide, Aoife sank back into the armchair. “No way. You did it?”

Star smirked. “I did. Just call me God. Miracle maker par excellence.”

“In your dreams.” I hooted. “Your ego is plenty big enough.”

“Did what?” Camille inserted, dragging Jake onto her lap, preventing a head-on collision with a tea tray. “What miracles did you make happen?”

“I managed to convince Conor that Lena needs a break over the holidays. She and Paddy are going on a martyrs’ honeymoon.”

I took a deep sip of coffee. “Do I even want to know what that means?”

Inessa gawked at Star. “They’re married?”

“Nope. But you just watch her come back with a ring on her finger.”

While Inessa’s nose scrunched, I chuckled more at Star’s glare. “Her review on your stuffing still stings, huh? All these years later. How precious.”

“Fucking bitch thinks she knows everything,” Star muttered in an aside.

“I heard that,” Kat sang, then waggled her fingers in front of her mother. “Swear jar. You promised.”

“She used two curse words.”

Kat beamed at me. “Thanks, Aunty S!”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Pressing my cheek to Aidan’s, I sank back in my own armchair as Star coughed up twenty bucks. “Jesus, that’s how much two curse words cost nowadays?”

“You don’t want to know what the tooth fairy charges.” Aoife’s gaze turned concerned. “Are you okay, Savvie? You look a little…”

“Like dogshit?”

“Another ten bucks for the jar, Kat,” I yelled, then gestured at Third. “Little ears!”

Of course, Star’s potty mouth wouldn’t be vanquished. “Motherfucker.”

“She owes twenty now.”

Kat made an appearance, hand outstretched. She shoved the twenty into a purse she tucked into her low-slung jeans then leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I’ll cut you in if you keep this up, Aunty S! You’re really good at pumping Mom for the dough.”

I hid a smile as she pecked Third on the cheek, not caring that she had chocolate frosting liberally coating her. “Where are the proceeds going?”

“A trip to Lapland.”

“Lapland, huh?”

“Oh, yes. Now that I can legally travel out of the country, I want to see the reindeer.”

Star shot her daughter an unimpressed look. “And I told her she can go upstate and see those.”

“That isn’t the same and you know it. Plus, I want us all to experience the northern lights.”

“You can see those in North America.”

“Not. The. Same.”

“Has nothing to do with St. Nick, huh?” I teased, just to watch her blush.

She’d grown oddly mature in the last couple years. Childhood didn’t set well on her shoulders, but neither did adulthood. I’d experienced the horrors of the teen years with my sisters, so I had a point of reference—Kat was nothing like them.

“I’m too old for Santa.”

Star immediately scowled. “No, you’re not, and if those little shits in school are—”

“Ten bucks, please!” Kat held out her hand. “I’m running out of time, Aunty S. So any help is appreciated,” she told me sweetly before grabbing Third around the waist, then stomping over to the other side of the room where the kids gathered.

Shay graced us with his presence for once, and the fact that Kat was more interested in catching her mother out than hanging all over him spoke of her desperation for a trip to Lapland.

The mania of an afternoon with the sisters-in-law never changed, apart from at this time of the year—the holidays had come back around. Which meant chaos had escaped the building to spare itself a headache. Thanksgiving. Check. We were officially on Christmas watch.

“How did you ‘convince’ Conor to ‘convince’ Lena that she needs a break?” Aela bit into her macaron.

“Paddy helped me.”

“Paddy wanted a vacay too, huh?” Aoife teased.

“Yup.” She snagged one of the club sandwiches from a silver tray and stacked three on top of each other. “I don’t think he reckoned on pilgrimage sites in Europe. Probably figured it’d be Boca Raton, but them’s the cards.”

Inessa sipped her mint tea. “Knowing him, he’ll turn it into a pub crawl.”

“I’d pay to go with him. He has a fab eye for a good pub.” I stole one of the sandwiches from Star’s hands. “So, when are we free of the wicked witch?”

“The twenty-third—”

“Meeee?!” my precocious child shrieked with glee.

Aoife tutted. “Baby Aidan, what did we tell you about listening in?”

Third sang, “I’m doing what my daddy taught me. Information is queen!”

While Aoife facepalmed, I directed with a laugh, “Keep watching your show, sweetie.”

Snorting, Star continued, “She wants a pre-holiday dinner. That’s the payment.”

“So close to Christmas?”

“Since when did Lena care about being irrelevant?”

I hid a smirk. “What’s a martyrs’ honeymoon, anyway?”

“Fuck if I know. Lots of dead people shit to see in Europe, I guess.”

Camille groaned. “Star!”

A wicked glint appeared in her eyes.

“Wait.” I winced. “Who’s cooking?”

Please not me. It was Finn and Aoife’s turn to host Christmas, but with their ‘Lena’ situation and Aidan and I due to host next year…

“She is, of course. At her damn place in her own damn kitchen.”

Inessa bit her lip. “Have you cleared this with the guys?”

“Look, Nessie, you might need to hold Eoghan’s dick when he pisses, but I let Conor do his own housekeeping. He’s a big boy and can arrange shit without me overseeing stuff. Don’t forget, he thinks this gift is his idea.”

Camille cackled at Inessa’s wide, horrified eyes. “I don’t think she’s seen Eoghan pee yet.”

“Why would I want to?” my youngest sister-in-law sputtered. “I mean, of course I’ve been in the bathroom when… but I don’t go in and talk to him!”

“She’s young still,” Aela mocked with a wicked glint. “Just wait until you pop out your first kid. If you’re dealing with a diaper blowout, you won’t give a damn if he’s peeing or not.”

Inessa’s nose scrunched again. “How did we get onto this subject?! I’d rather talk about the stuffing wars of ’23 than this!”

Star took an overly large bite of her sandwich. “I expect good gifts this year for my sacrifice.”

I jeered, “What sacrifice?”

“Hey, Conor took some persuading.”

“I bet.” I rolled my eyes. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

Aela pursed her lips. “You raise a valid point, Star—”

“Don’t I always?”

“—we need to talk about gifts.”

“Secret Santa?” Aoife offered when I groaned. “Genuinely, Savvie, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look under the weather.”

“Can’t talk about it,” I groused.

“Or don’t want to?” Star folded her arms across her chest. “Come on. You’ll feel better. You’ve been like a bear with a sore paw since we arrived. Only two orgasms last night, not your usual half dozen?”

“Star!” Camille tutted then her head tipped to the side as she examined me. “Aoife’s right. You do look pale.”

My shoulders slumped. “I didn’t sleep well. Aidan and I argued last night.”

“So? You’re always bickering.”

“Yes, Star,” I hissed. “But this time, I slept in the guest room and he wasn’t there at breakfast this morning.”

If I didn’t have my sisters’ attention by that point, that earned it—each of their heads whipped around to face me.

“You slept in the guest room?!” Inessa gasped like I’d told her Aidan had burned down another church.

“I did.”

Star’s tone promised a brutal butchering. “Do I need to get my special scissors out?”

Ah, there was my sister from another mister—reassuring and terrifying me in one fell swoop. “No. I still like his penis fully functioning, Star.”

“So, why did you not sleep in your bedroom? I thought you guys didn’t do that?”

“We don’t.” Aoife’s question had me swallowing down tears.

“Holy shit, is she crying?” Inessa asked Camille.

My hand shook as I trickled it along my lower lash. “It’s fine. We’ll hash it out later.”

“No, it’s not. Is there anything we can do? I could get Finn to shake some sense into him? Aidan actually listens to him.” Aoife leaned over to pat my hand. “Or do you want some brownies?”

I sucked in my bottom lip. “Your brownies do fix everything.”

Aoife snagged her phone. “I’ll have some delivered.”

“Thanks, Eef. You’re the best.”

“I try.” She winked at me before tapping out a couple messages to someone on her staff, I presumed. “Okay, so what’s going on?”

“I’m writing an article and he won’t help me.” There, that was oblique enough.

“What do you need help with? Can I do anything?” Star dragged the tray of club sandwich triangles and plopped it on my knee. “In the meantime, eat your feelings or I will get out my special scissors. You know I won’t let him make you cry. Remember Jersey Vorul.”

“Love you too.” Ignoring her scowl, I grabbed a sandwich. “There’s a place in Lower Manhattan. I’ve heard rumors about them hosting fights there.”

“Wait,” Inessa butted in. “Who’s Jersey Vorul?”

“Singer. He toured with Daddy.”

Star cackled.

“Oh boy, what happened?” Camille inquired with a smile.

Admittedly, that cackle was contagious.

“That tour was his big break. Then he came onto Vana and I ruined his career.”

“Ouch. Intense,” Aoife muttered, eyes wide.

“I was thirteen.”

Her tone did a 180. “That asshole!”

“That’s why you’ve never heard of him,” I tacked on dryly. “Star did what Star does best.”

Smugly, Star demanded, “What kind of fights in Lower Manhattan?”

“Animal fights.”

Everyone, apart from Star, gasped. She just asked, “I can trawl for info?”

I shook my head. “It’s fine.”

“Hardly! You slept in separate bedrooms,” Aela pointed out. “So, what led to that?”

“I’m not even sure. He said he’d know if any faction was hosting those kinds of events, and then things just spiraled.”

“Spiraled, how?” Aoife cleared her throat. “Not going to lie, Savvie, you two are usually the least argue-y of the bunch.”

Camille took a dainty bite of a scone. “Argue-y?”

“What?! You know I’m right.”

“That’s because Savannah thinks with her clitoris,” Star intoned.

“Maybe.” I inhaled another sandwich. “Look, I’m okay. I just woke up with a headache.”

“Because you went to sleep crying?”

“Mostly out of exasperation. He didn’t even raise his damn voice.” I shuddered. “That’s so fucking hot too.”

“Only because your mom and dad blow hot during arguments.” Star clucked her tongue. “So, you’re going to overdose on carbs and then…?”

“Go home.”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“Depends.”

“On?” Camille prompted.

“I don’t know.”

“Jesus, you guys really don’t argue, do you?” Aela laughed, but it wasn’t mean, just perplexed. “I don’t know how you can’t. They’re all so fucking stubborn.”

“Did I hear a swear word?” Kat hollered.

“Not from me!” Star yelled back then added, “Brat!”

“Did someone say my name in vain?” Victoria chimed in.

“Not you,” Star groused. “My brat. And that isn’t a curse word, Kat, so keep your nose and your hands out of my wallet.”

My lips twitched into a smile. “Just take her to Lapland already, Scrooge.”

“I will, but there’s no point until after school breaks. Then we’ll head over for a couple days, but don’t tell her that. She can pay for her own damn ticket.”

“This is your way of teaching her fiscal responsibility?” Aoife sputtered.

“Duh.”

“You could just ask me to get her an afternoon job in one of the bakeries?”

“Nah. Conor would insist on a protective detail, which she’d hate, so I’d have to sit in there, and my butt has doubled in size since we got together.

I still need to kick ass, and I won’t be able to if I’m surrounded by your fucking food—” She jumped when Kat popped up from out of nowhere.

“Fuck’s sake, Kat! Where the hell did you come from, demon teenager?

Which, before you ask, is infinitely worse than demon child! ”

“Pay up!” Kat’s gleeful voice earned her a huff, but Star handed over a twenty. “Hey, you used ‘hell’ and ‘ass’ too.”

“Since when are they curses?”

“Since forever.”

Star pulled a face when her wallet turned up empty. “I’ll have to owe you.”

“No fair!”

“You stripped me of cash, kid.”

“Don’t worry. We can stop at the bank before we go home, Star,” Kat chirped as she walked over to the TV.

With my teacup in front of my mouth, I sang, “You’re creating a monster.”

“Precisely. I want her to be a monster. She won’t get hurt that way. I love destroying the Jersey Voruls of this world, but Conor made me promise not to kill people.”

“Again? Isn’t that like the fourth promise?” Inessa joked.

“Fifth. What can I say? Some cunts,” Star whispered, “just need to die. Speaking of which… Aidan. You’d better call me tonight if you’re still arguing when you get back.”

“I will. Last night came out of left field, but I like him alive, Star,” I reminded her. “Okay, so, gifts? Secret Santa?”

“This year… we could make each other presents.”

Only Camille and Aoife didn’t groan at Aela’s suggestion.

“Do I look like the sort of person who macramés?” Star demanded.

“I know you started crocheting, Star. Don’t bullshit me,” Aela countered.

“You crochet?!”

Star glowered at her boots. “Conor suggested it. Said it might be relaxing.”

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“Fuck you,” she said sweetly.

“Kat! Your mother owes you another ten.” As my minx of a niece wooted over by the TV, I continued, “I don’t make stuff.”

“Well, you can try.”

“I pity the person I pick then.”

Aoife just smiled. “I think it’s a great idea, Aela. So, we’re in agreement?”

“Yeah, I’d be down,” Camille agreed.

Star scratched her nose. “Fine.”

Inessa shrugged. “If that’s what everyone wants to do.”

Aela smirked. “Just FYI, I’m not going to make you something you can sell later.”

“No fair,” Star chimed in with a grin.

Groaning, I grouched, “Okay. Homemade, it is.”