Page 84 of Cillian

“Ow! You didn't have to hit me so hard. I was only messing.”

“Don't forget. You may be bigger and stronger, but I'm older. And I'll be dead before I let my daft brothers make a fool of me in front of my son.”

Tadhg who had been glued to the phone for the last twenty minutes, stormed the kitchen calling for a family meeting in the garage.

“You should go, I'll take her,” Queenie offered, as it was time for her to take her nap anyway. My brothers and me all made our way to the finished garage, our refuge where we played cards or listened to the game, so our rooting and cheering didn’t wake the babies.

Before things got started, Queenie surprised me and the boys with a stashed piece of cobbler, and a full glass of Guinness to wash it all down with. She tried to leave without giving me a kiss, so I pulled her on my lap and kissed her soft lips before sending her back inside.

“What?” I asked defensively, as my brothers eyed me down.

“We didn't say nothing,” Bellamy argued back, holding out his hands out in front of him, whereas Paddy dove into his cobbler.

“This is a deadly cobbler. Can see why you're on kid number three and four. Food this grand is practically an aphrodisiac.”

“Stop making fun of me. It's my curse, I can't help it. Every time we say we're not having another one, her she comes, fucking pregnant again.”

“Well, you ain't exactly fighting her off much,” Paddy said, a full mouth of cobbler.

“Or taking a fucking breather,” Bellamy added.

“Or pulling out,” Tadhg baited, and suddenly I was brought back to we were young and they all used to team up on me.

“I told you, it's my curse. Don't help that the woman practically drains my balls dry. She just accepted it. Who am I kidding? I fucking love the woman. I'd be a madman to turn her down?—”

“There it is,” Órfhlaith said sneaking past, pulling up a seat and sliding Tadhg’s cobbler away from him. “Queenie told me she snuck you the last piece, but I don't think so. Not when I did half the cooking.”

“And why don't you find something to do, Órfhlaith.” Paddy said, kicking her chair.

“I don't take orders from babies. Sullivan hierarchy and all,” she argued back, forking her dessert.

“Normally, we'd never dream of discussing indecent matters around a woman, but seeing as how there ain’t no women present—” Paddy spat.

“Fuck off,” Órfhlaith interrupted, enjoying the last few traces of her cobbler.

“Anyway, you're not talking business, you're talking about the Sullivan curse. You're just lucky to have found a woman wanting to put up with that filthy mind of yours,” Órfhlaith teased.

“Well, I can't help it if I'm despicable,” I defended.

“And I can't help it if I'm a degenerate,” Paddy smirked, proud in his depravity.

“Hell, I ain’t apologizing for being a deviant,” Tadhg added.

“Did anyone call for a deplorable?” Bellamy countered.

“Well, we all inherited the Sullivan’s curse,” Órfhlaith said, reaching in to take a sip from Bellamy’s beer. “So, sometimes, we're all just going to be a little bit diabolical.”