Page 9 of It Will Always Be You
Fucking perfect.
Chapter 7
With the weight of Colin’s confession hanging in the air, we work in silence to rebind, gag, and secure him before making our way outside. This is the absolute last thing I need right now. I’d already been working on the best way to make it clear, under no uncertain terms, that the Four Points would be staying in the family. With Billy being Da’s second, he stood to be my biggest obstacle or biggest supporter. Guess we know which way he’s leaning now. There’s no way in hell I’m letting him take over. I’ve been raised for this my whole life, sacrificed more than most. I’m not letting that be in vain.
“What now?” Ciaran muses, lighting a cigarette as we exit the building
Wrinkling my nose at the offensive smell, I grouse, “That shit will kill you.”
“I’m more likely to die on the job,” he rebukes with a roll of his eyes as he props a foot up on the bumper of his car. Conceding his point, I let it drop.
“I need to schedule a meeting with Billy and iron this shit out. Butfirst, I need to pay a visit to Da’s house. Someone needs to make sure Sheila has everything under control,” I answer his original question, leaving out that I also want to see how Da’s doing with my own eyes and up his security measures.
“Need backup?”
“Not yet. Head back to Dec and continue vetting the new recruits. I’ll link in with you later.” With little more than a dip of his chin, he watches me leave. It’s getting clearer by the day. I need to nip this rising discontent in the bud before things get out of control. At face value, it should be simple: a few beat downs, a show of power or two. But when you factor in keeping the legal front running and the sixty hours a week that takes, it’s not quite so straight forward. And of course, the timing of everything had to coincide with my EA problem. Fucking typical. God forbid I catch a break.
Pulling up in front of my childhood home, I push thoughts of things I can’t change for now to the side. Even on his sick bed, Da is all too likely to pick up on it, and stress is the last thing he needs right now.
Growing up, this place always felt like a safe haven from the madness outside these walls. Da was adamant about keeping our home life as separate from everything as possible. But now, everything feels cold and hollow. Lifeless. Still in a way it never was. When I call out for Sheila, only silence greets me. Frowning, I head up to Da’s room, wondering where she is. My question is soon answered when I spy Sheila sleeping, a book in her lap, at his bedside as he watches her with a soft look on his face. Looks like the old man still has a soft spot for her after all these years. I used to wonder why he never made a move, but as age opened my eyes to what goes bump in the night, that question answered itself.
“Son,” he rasps before letting out a rickety cough, startling Sheila awake. Seeing me standing in the doorway, she jumps up. A blush heats her cheeks as she stumbles through her excuses before brushing past me and leaving us.
Walking over to take her place, I tease him, “Better be careful, old man. Sheila has the hots for you.”
“Stop talking out of your ass and get over here,” he grumbles with a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes at me.
“Ah, I see. You’re still living in denial.” Flipping the chair around, I straddle it, hanging my forearms off the sturdy wooden back while I take him in. He’s lost more weight, and that cough still doesn’t sound good, but there’s more life in his eyes than there has been.
“Why are you here? Or is your sole purpose in life to test me?”
“I came to see how you are, if you must know.”
“I’ve told you, I’m fine.” His statement would be a lot more convincing if he didn’t have to stop to cough into his handkerchief. We both avert our eyes, pretending not to notice it’s stained red now.
“Come on, Da. Stop bullshitting me. I’m on your side. I’m doing everything I can to keep this ship sailing but I need you to be honest with me, or it’s never going to work.” I sigh, bracing my elbows on the back of the chair and running a hand over my jaw. Frowning at the stubble that scratches my palm, I make a note to shave later.
Taking pity on me, he sighs. “I’m as fine as I can be. There’re bad days, but there are also good days, son. Sheila is taking good care of me. You’ll look out for her for me, won’t you?”
“Of course. She’s family. But you’re going nowhere, okay? You need to help sort out this mess before you get to skip out on your responsibilities,” I joke, drawing a dry laugh from him before he turns serious on me.
“When you get to my age, son, you’ll realise it’s the little things that are the most important, not power or money. Promise me you’ll give some thought to finding a nice girl one day? I want you to be happy; to know the comfort only a woman can bring to your life.”
“Da...” I trail off. We’ve had this same tired argument time and time again. I’m no closer to changing my mind than I was the last time he tried to persuade me.
“Johnny. I know you’re young now, but you won’t always be. Justhumour an old man, will you? Please.” Hearing my Da, the Boss of the Irish Mafia, utter a plea is so out of the ordinary, I’m helpless but to dip my chin as my walls crumble a little under his insistence.
“Okay, fine, I’ll think about it…if you think about making that will before you can’t,” I implore, only for him to wave me off like he did the last time I brought this up. Stubborn fucker. And he wonders where I get it from.
“Da, I’m serious. If you don’t, who knows what will happen to the Four Points?” I toss out there, hoping the mention of his pride and joy will make him see the severity of things.
“What do you mean, what will happen? It’ll stay within the family, as it should. This is the family business, son. Why the hell do you think I’ve had you shadowing me since you could walk and talk, huh?” he snaps, looking more like himself than he has in months. There’s fire in his eyes, as if he’s ready to leap out of the bed and into action at a moment’s notice. Fuck, how I’d kill to see him do so.
“I know that, buttheydon’t. And we both know they won’t take my word for it,” I tell him, the same old argument we’ve had on and off for years now. Da’s always been a stickler for the old ways, even as the rest of the Points has moved into the twentieth century.
“Then you fight for it. You grab it by the bloody throat and make it yours. This is the fucking mafia, son, and you’ll do it the mafia way. None of this legal shit.” He sniffs, shifting against his pillows and looking one wrong move away from launching into a lecture.
“Humour me. Write it up, but I’ll still do you proud and fight for it. Deal? It’s about time Billy was knocked down a peg or two anyway.” At his reluctant nod and dropping eyes, I tell him I’ll get the lawyer out here tomorrow and leave him to give into the tiredness he’s no doubt been fighting. When I catch Sheila in the hall, she offers me a tentative smile, which I return by pulling her in for a quick hug before making my exit.
