Page 50 of Parrish

Chapter Nineteen

Jack Parrish

Entering the cafeteria, I let Lacey drag me by the hand to a table and when she orders me to sit, I listen. She rattles off demands that go unheard, as I try to process everything, she goes to get me a cup of coffee. When she returns, she slides a Styrofoam cup in front of me and pulls out a chair.

“Dad, look at me,” she half orders, half pleads.

I can’t though. I’m too consumed by the thoughts racing through my head. I’ve been running my club into the ground, taking chances when I should’ve taken a step back and handed the gavel to Blackie the moment my meds stopped working. Instead, I prayed for a miracle and recklessly made moves.

Killing that paramedic brought the heat on us. Since our connection at the precinct, Jones was dead, I had no intel that the cops were sniffing around my shit. The deal with Javier was the straw that broke the camel’s back though. We might’ve wiped out some of those drug-pedaling motherfuckers in the paper factory but that doesn’t mean Javier doesn’t have more somewhere looking to avenge the bloody massacre we caused. They’re like fucking cockroaches, hiding in corners, ready to strike when you’re not looking.

I’ve been too wrapped up with surrendering to see the truth. Ritzer and the ATF aren’t the threat. Blackie going to jail, me losing my mind—immunity for the club—it’s all garbage. Fucking nonsense. The Sinaloa Cartel isn’t finished with me or my club.

Following me, driving past my house and slamming Reina’s car into that truck—they’re just getting started.

“Dad, are you listening to me?”

Turning my head, I blink at her. I have no idea what she’s said but judging by the tears in her eyes, I can only imagine it’s some kind of plea.

Calm down.

Get help.

Don’t give up.

The chorus is always the same.

Reaching for her, I cup the back of her neck and draw out a deep sigh. I won’t feed her lies or tell her what I think she needs to hear. It’s time she looks at her father and sees him for what he truly is.

“I need you to promise me something,” I tell her.

Rolling her eyes, she wipes at her cheeks with the back of her hands and shakes her head.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” she accuses. “I’m calling your doctor. You can’t go on like this—”

“Call her,” I agree, cutting her off. “But I need something else too. I need you to take care of your brother. I don’t know what’s going to happen here but I’m not leaving Reina’s side until I know she’s going to recover.”

“And then? What about the D.A.? Should I call your lawyer?”

“Then I’m going to make whoever fucking did this to her pay,” I say with conviction in my tone. Fuck surrendering. If those pig bastards want me, they’re going to have to catch me first. My hand drops away from her neck as her eyes go wide.

“Dad—”

“Call my lawyer. If anything should happen to me or Reina, I want it in writing that you and Blackie get Danny.”

“Jack.”

Blackie’s voice sounds from behind us, causing Lacey to break our stare and we both turn to face him as he and the rest of the club as they head towards us. He grabs the chair next to his wife, spins it around and straddles the back as he takes a seat. Draping his arm around her shoulders, I watch him kiss her forehead as he keeps his eyes pinned to mine.

“Dad wants us to call Holden and have papers drawn up that name us as guardians of Danny in case something should happen,” Lacey explains.

All eyes turn to me and everyone huddles around the table.

“That was no accident,” I declare. “It wasn’t some fucking kid running from the scene of an accident,” I add, diverting my gaze to Pipe.

“Jack,” Blackie starts. “Look at me,” he demands. “You know I’m with you, right? That I got your back?”

Looking at him, I don’t reply as he leans forward and levels me with a stare, one that’s been passed between us a helluva lot over the years.

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