Crush(66)

I felt her shiver under my touch, and I knew if we were alone and I could slide my hands between her legs that I could reassure her everything was fine. She must have had the same thought because she pushed her body back against mine. “Are you sure?” she asked.

I turned her around and pulled her flush to me so I could kiss her harder, more passionately. “I’m sure . . . about everything,” I said, stressing the last word.

She squeezed me tightly and I knew she felt relieved about telling me. I wasn’t lying to her about my feelings. We’d be just fine, and we’d deal with the child situation when the time came.

Declan was busy tongue-diving into Peyton’s mouth and I thumped him on the shoulder. “Come on, man, let’s go.”

He pulled away from Peyton and I heard her sigh.

Guess they liked each other.

When we stepped out onto the sidewalk, the sky was bright enough that I had to pull out my sunglasses. I stopped just out of sight of the boutique. “Can you call Miles and see if he can meet us at my old man’s in an hour? We need to regroup.”

Declan squinted against the sun. “Yeah, sure. What are you thinking?”

“That there’s a possibility Tommy wasn’t lying about O’Shea killing Lizzy or about the reemergence of the Dorchester Heights Gang.”

Declan tilted his head.

“What?” I said.

He eyed me. “Scary shit, that’s all.”

I started to walk backwards. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Using his hand as a visor, he shaded his eyes. “You have a plan?”

When I reached the Rover, I hopped in. “Yes. See you in an hour.”

Elle had driven the Rover once but after the first time she drove in my old man’s beat-up Porsche 964, she fell in love with it. Why, I have no idea. The black 1989 Porsche looked like it needed a shower even after it rained—the paint had no gleam left. But like my old man, something about it charmed her.

Either way, she had two options, and it hadn’t gotten by me that she was still borrowing Peyton’s car when she visited Clementine, which means she hadn’t told O’Shea about us yet. I hadn’t pressed the issue, either. And now in light of the fact that Tommy might not have been yanking my chain after all, it was probably best she didn’t tell him about me.

For now.

It would more than likely just piss him off.

But Elle had a point. She didn’t see O’Shea as a killer, so if Tommy was right, there had to be more to all of this.

I put the car in drive and took off.

The house in Dorchester Heights had belonged to my grandfather for more years than I’d been alive. With its small front porch, narrow driveway, detached garage, and side door that got used more than the front, I wondered if my old man would keep it now that Gramps wasn’t around, or sell it and move somewhere else.

Maybe even out of this godforsaken town.

Something felt different when I walked into my old man’s kitchen. The memories of what had happened here would never truly fade from my memory, but with Tommy gone, I felt like I could breathe.

A huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders. Not only was Elle no longer in danger—from Tommy, anyway—but my old man was free. No more mob ties that bound him.

“Pop!” I yelled, walking toward the family room, where I expected to see him horizontal on the couch watching sports highlights.

Perfectly groomed hair, wearing a pair of jeans and a Red Sox T-shirt, my old man appeared on the landing of the stairs. “Logan, what are you doing here?”

Freedom seemed to be good for him.

I raised a brow. “Came to bend your ear. Where are you going?”

His grin was wide. “At the last minute your uncle Hunter somehow snagged two tickets to opening day at Fenway.”

“Is he here? I didn’t see his car.”

My father looked at his watch. “Should be here any minute.”

“That’s awesome,” I beamed.

He was tucking in his shirt as he came down. “Do you want to come? I’m sure we can get you a ticket. The scalpers will be out in full force today.”

I plopped down on the couch. “No, I’m good. But is it okay if I hang out here?”

“Yeah, no problem. What did you want to talk about?”

Everything about him was so calm, I didn’t want to ruin that by bringing up Tommy or the threat of a possible underground gang. “Cars. I wanted to discuss cars. Elle needs to get one soon. You get your license reinstated in a couple of weeks, right?”

The smile on his face made me feel like he was going to be okay. “That’s right. May first, and you no longer have to be my driver.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “It’s about f*cking time,” I joked.

“What are you thinking?”

My brow creased.

“About a car for Elle. Any thoughts on make or model?” he asked.

Beep. Beep.

He grabbed his wallet. “That’s Hunter.”

“Go, we can talk about this later.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, there’s no rush.”

“Do you want to run out and say hi to your uncle?”

I shook my head. “No, you guys go on. I’ll catch him next time.”

My father looked at me as if he knew I was lying about something. “How about dinner tomorrow?”