Page 64 of Demitri

“Legacy?”

He takes another swig of his beer and looks at me with a stoic face. “My family’s Irish Mob. My daid runs the fucking thing with his brother.”

I look at him, noticing his accent coming out even more than usual. It’s a mix of Boston and Irish.

“How did you end up here if that’s what you grew up in?”

“I got out. The old man wasn’t happy, but he couldn’t exactly fight the government, could he?”

“You joined the service.”

“I did. Army. Went into basic with no clue what I was going to do. Figured I’d let them tell me when I got there.”

“What happened with your family?”

“He cut me off. Stopped talking to me, stopped acknowledging that I was his son, removed me from everything in his life. Ma would call when she could get away with it, but my daid is a real fucking bastard, you know? She quit calling when he started hitting her for calling me.”

“Why did he care if she gave him so many kids? Aren’t there others who want to be there?”

“I have four sisters and one brother. Younger. He’s a fucking twat. And you know girls aren’t allowed to do anything but spread their legs for whoever their father determines is the right guy.”

“So you miss the place, then?”

“Would it be bad to say that I do sometimes miss it? I haven’t been back in twenty years. Went home at twenty on leave to tell them I’d been selected for Special Ops and couldn’t even get in the front door. He refused to see me, said no son of his would have abandoned the family and he hoped I landed in some desert and didn’t come back.”

“Fuck. Aiden. He sounds like a monster.”

“Sounds a lot like Dem’s dad, honestly. They probably would have gotten along really great if they weren’t mortal enemies. Irish, Russian, Italian—they all hate each other. It would really piss the fucker off if he knew Dem and I were friendly.”

He says this with some self-satisfied smile, like he’s getting away with something. Owning the man for being a decent human.

“If your sisters aren’t allowed to have a say in their lives and your brother’s incompetent, what’s happening with your family?”

“My cousin Declan wasn’t given the same chance to get out I was. He’s the heir apparent, and he’s also the one who keeps me informed when something might be happening around here.”

“He doesn’t hold it against you? That you left?”

“Yeah nah. He’s wicked cool. He knows that life isn’t for everyone, and that I had higher aspirations. He doesn’t want to keep anyone in that doesn’t want to be there. He’s also secretly trying to go a little more legit than the old man. He’s tired of burying cousins.”

“He knows what you do with ANON?”

“He does. And he helps out sometimes. In his own way. He’s not cool with the human shit that is the darker side of everything these families do.”

“Are you afraid your dad is going to call you one day and demand you come home?”

“Every single day of my life.”

I’m trying to think of what to say next when Brodie calls the sticks are done and Aiden’s phone buzzes on the bar in front of him. I grab his food and slide it to him while he taps on his screen. He won’t look at me, and he’s practically gnawing on the inside of his mouth, a stress action I noticed the first time I met him.

“Demitri isn’t going to make it home tonight, is he?” I ask, trying to stay calm.

“No. He’s alright, though.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I turn away from him and busy myself rearranging the bottles I was trying to count earlier. I don’t want him to see my face and worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ve had many nights alone. What’s one more?

“You aren’t going to be alone,” Aiden says. “You won’t be left unprotected.”

---