Gina raised a palm to her head as she realised for the very first time that her father was not one to be placed on a pedestal. He had flaws; deep, unforgivable ones, and she was beginning to see him for the human he truly was. She’d been blind to that when he was alive; after all, he was the first person to treat her with respect - to treat her like she mattered. She was his other half - his protegée, a role in which she flourished. Her father had raised to take shit from no one - and as a result, she certainly wouldn’t be taking shit from him.
Maggie’s tone cut through the dense haze her thoughts had created, and Gina stiffened almost as soon as the words left her mouth. She’d heard that tone before; when she was young and reckless and a little too brazen to know when enough was enough. But she wasn’t that young girl any more. Her father’s awful timing and bad choice in moneylenders had taken care of that.
Gina made herself stand tall, matching the redhead’s stare. “You’d do well to remember that this is my house, Mrs. Power, and that you need information from me.” She almost flinched at her thinly-veiled insinuation, but held the woman’s gaze. “You don’t scare me. My debts are paid.”
Maggie was almost as intimidating as her husband. Not quite, but he’d had a gun and a loose fist where excuses had been concerned.
“That wasn’t my question,” Gina hissed, sick to death of being spoken to like the child that she no longer was. “You knew the danger full well, I’m sure. I wonder why you so quickly disregarded it, if you knew danger it would pose to my father. If you truly loved him, I wonder why you were so selfish to let him waltz into the bad books of John Boy Power.” Gina knew she was toeing a dangerous line, but she’d become an expert at balancing on such things.
A syllable’s worth of incredulous laughter escaped her lips, and her tone drifted towards accusing. “His disappearance was your fault. You sent your love on a sprint for his life, and you don’t even realise it.”
Maggie couldn’t even pretend to be surprised by the young woman’s unwavering tone. Gina had been raised by Damian Gilmore, of course she wasn’t going to flinch at the wrath of Maggie Power. The thought sent yet wave of grief through her petite body as she was filled with memories of a familiar obnoxious brute waltzing into her home and raiding her cupboards and tending to her cuts and bruises when John Power lost his temper. Damian Gilmore had been the light at a dark time in her life, he’d been there when she’d lost everything from her family to her dignity showing her that she was stil worth something.
She furrowed a brow as she listened carefully to his daughter’s words, “Debts?” she asked finally, stunned by the admission. Had Damian Gilmore and his daughter been in contact with her husband in the years since they’d left Ireland? The thought stung more than she cared to admit. If what Gina was saying was true, then Maggie’s suspicions were finally confirmed and Damian had fled Ireland for his life. However, if the Gilmores had maintained contact with the man threatening their life, something didn’t quite add up. “What debts would they be Gina?” she questioned carefully.
Maggie laughed bitterly at the other woman’s insinuation that it had been her to entice Damian Gilmore into a relationship without considering the dangerous implications. “Your father pursued me from the very first night we met” she explained, gaze not wavering from the stubborn girl. “I am by no means claiming that we had a healthy relationship” she shook her head with a snort, “But we were there, at a time when we needed each other” she shrugged, unwilling to offer Gina more by way of an explanation.
“I need to know what happened to him” her tone was much softer as she indulged her deepest wish, “Since he left” she added with a sigh. “I haven’t thought of much else”
