Page 77 of Grift

I keep standing and focus entirely on Jessica. “Are you okay?”

“Patrick,” my father’s voice threatens. “Did you hear me? I said, sit down.”

“Jessica, come here,” I keep my eyes on her face. There’s just a second of indecision before she starts to rise, and that’s when it happens.

James Carney reaches out and grabs her wrist so hard that she cries out in surprise or pain. Callan comes through the door behind me. And I pull the gun and point it straight at my father’s head.

Jessica’s eyes widen and her mouth goes open in silent shock. Behind me, Callan lets out a hiss. “Shit, Patrick…”

“Callan, take Jessica and get her out of here now. My car’s out front. Or my office. I don’t care,” When he hesitates, I turn slightly without taking the gun off my father. “Now, Callan. Please.”

It’s the please that gets him. Jessica’s eyes are imploring me, but I need to deal with one thing at a time here or things could go very wrong. My heart’s pounding in my chest, but I keep my focus on the gun and on my father. I don’t move until they’re gone. The door clicks shut behind me, leaving us in a heavy silence in the familiar room.

My father looks relaxed, leaning back on his expensive office couch like nothing in the world is going wrong. One leg is crossed over the other and he’s got an arm draped across the back of the couch. His fingers lightly tap against the leather.

It’s supposed to piss me off. But what he doesn’t realize is that no matter how cool and collected he looks, he can’t stop the vein from throbbing in his forehead. I have the same fucking tick, according to Callan.

When my father’s attitude used to drive me to the edge, I’d come so close to losing it. In fact, I’d lost in more often than not. And that lack of control had cost me. Continued to cost me. Callan taught me to look for the pulse, reminding me that if the vein was throbbing in his head any “I’m above this” attitude was a lie. It’s there, now, throbbing a thousand beats a minute. Part of me eases at the realization that he’s paying attention.

I’ve only got one chance here, to make this right and make sure that Jessica is protected.

“Is this how you’re going to solve all your problems, Patrick? Just going to become a straight up thug like the Doyles?” Carney’s finest form, still getting in digs at his enemies, even at a moment like this. “You’re a big man now and ready to what, spend your life in jail for that slut.”

The edges of my vision dim a little at the word, but I force myself to focus. Deep breaths. Remember his control is bullshit and he’s trying to goad you.

“This has to stop here,” my voice is flat. It reminds me of when I wondered if I would ever feel anything again. Then I’d met Jessica. Everything changed.

His eyes narrow and he’s about to speak, but I hold up a hand. “Let’s cut the bullshit. I get that you did what you had to do, or what you thought you had to do, to get Kensington over a barrel. It worked. He’s not coming after you. Not pulling his money. His kid is dead and not stealing from the casino. You won.”

There’s a subtle shift, a preen, at the compliment. It makes me sick to my stomach to see his open greed and ego. He gives me a sneery half-smile that leaves sour bile in my throat. “I did.”

“But here’s the thing. You used a tape of a woman being raped to do it, and I can’t think of lower scum than that,” I keep my voice even. The pulse throbs harder and his eyes narrow to slits. “If you think I won’t put a bullet in your brain, try me. Callan will figure out a way to handle it, to cover it up. You know that.”

There it is. The weak spot: my father’s whole empire working and continuing to grow counts on his family’s loyalty, especially Callan’s. On the good days, he’s so disconnected from what’s actually happening that he has no doubt he’s got that loyalty. How could we not all adore him, or fear him and respect him? He doesn’t really care which. But this isn’t one of the good days.

It’s one of the days he’s got to face reality. Ask the questions that I hope keep him up at night. Would his oldest son take his life to protect the woman he loves? And would his most trusted and valued son seek vengeance, or cover it up? It’s gratifying to see the flash of emotions cross his face as he considers my words.

“It doesn’t have to end that way, Dad. We can both walk away like nothing ever happened. Jessica is my wife or not, that’s her choice. Regardless of how this goes, or where we end up, you will never speak to her again. Not out of turn, not demanding anything, not a slur, not a word. She’s not your pawn, she’s not your toy, and she’s not your problem. Are we clear?”

He gives a noncommittal eyebrow raise, but he’s broken a slight sweat, a fact that I find deeply satisfying. “What about you, Patrick? Are you my son, or are you my problem?”

That’s more complicated. The truth is that this experience has opened my eyes to how much I need to step away from the Carney empire. It’s time to build something on my own or find a way to take our family legacy in a different direction. It might not be an immediate thing, and it might not be necessary if my father’s not the person at the helm of the enterprise.

It’s complicated. Even I recognize that. In the short-term, I’ll make it work while I take steps to get out and make sure my younger siblings and my mother are safe. But in the longer term, I’ll be considering my options.

“That’s up to you. You’re the one who taught me there are always conditions. Leave Jessica alone, stay out of my life with her – if that’s even still a possibility – and I’ll keep working here with you, Callan, and Finn,” I try to keep my voice neutral.

He considers, and then nods. “You know Patrick, when you exert a little more control like you’re doing now, it makes me think we might make something of you yet. Put down the damned gun.”

I give my head a regretful shake. No can do. “I need your word, Dad.”

“She’s not my only way of going after Kensington. Is that going to be a problem?”

I slide the safety back on, and lower the weapon. “Not in the least. You can have at the Senator and the entire Kensington clan after what they let happen to her. Just keep her out of it, and we’re good.”

It’s a deal with the Devil. But sometimes, there’s not a better option on the table.

A flush of color that seems to be relief is rising above his collar just as Callan steps into the room, looking like he’s about to crack.

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