Blow(44)

Not here, anyway.

I pushed the plate of chicken and rice away and tried to pull my shit together. I needed to man up. I couldn’t sit at the f*cking kitchen table in my father’s house and eat dinner?

I lifted my eyes to his but kept my head bowed. “That it’s time for a face-to-face with Patrick.”

He slid my plate back toward me. “That’s not a good idea.”

Man up, I reminded myself. I raised my fork to my mouth but with each bite I chewed, I felt more and more like I might explode. “Why not?”

He plowed a hand through his hair. “You know why.”

My fists clenched under the table. “So what? His prick son has a hard-on for me. It’s not going to change anything.”

In frustration, my father shoved his chair back and pointed his finger at me. “I’m warning you, Logan: you go anywhere near Patrick or Tommy after all these years and mention O’Shea, it will set off all kinds of warning bells.”

I stood up. Paced to the counter. To the refrigerator and opened it. To the sink to pour a glass of water. Fuck, he was right. Besides, he was stuck in Boston for life for what I’d done; I couldn’t risk getting him into trouble either.

His eyes were on me.

Tracking me.

I could tell.

Finally, I asked, “What if I give you the money to deliver to Patrick?”

My father practically choked. “You know we’re talking about ten million to settle the score?”

I leaned against the counter. “Yeah, I do.”

“Even if you had that kind of cash handy, why would you give it up for someone you just met?”

I shrugged. “I can’t explain it.”

“Do you have that much?”

Uncertain, I shoved my hands in my pockets. “No, but I should be able to get it.”

With slow strides, he crossed the kitchen and stood next to me. “Involving your grandfather Ryan will come with all kinds of strings. And even if you get the money, I don’t know if it will help, son. It could backfire. We don’t have a clue what O’Shea is up to or what it is Patrick is really after. I have to say, I’m almost certain Patrick is looking for something more than the cash.”

Hiding my surprise that he didn’t dismiss me right away, I pressed on. “But, if nothing else, you think it could be an option?”

He tapped his fingers on the counter. “It’s a risky option. I have a meeting set with Patrick on Tuesday to go over operations. Let me see what I can get out of him. If it’s the girl or the source he wants, there’s a chance not even the full kitty will suffice to settle the score.”

“You really think he won’t take the ten million as settlement?”

Another shrug. “Like I said, I just don’t know. In the meantime, I’ll ask around to see what kind of operation O’Shea or his wife might have had going on. How big it was. What, if anything, anyone knows.”

I nodded in agreement and started the pacing again.

With narrowed eyes, my father pointed his finger at me again. “But you have to stay out of it.”

Every muscle in my body was taut. “I told you, I can’t do that.”

His jaw clenched. “I know what you said and now I’m telling you, if you want my help, you’ll lay low. In fact, I think you should pay your grandfather a visit.”

Playing stupid was never my game. I knew what he meant, so why I chose to answer the way I did, I have no idea other than the fact that it was on my mind. “Good idea. I think I’ll go see Killian.”

Exasperated, he picked up the pot of rice and started toward the sink. “I’m not talking about my father and you know it.”

Still, playing stupid or not, his remark irked me. “And I’m not going to New York.”

He heaved a deep sigh.

The argument was all too familiar and I had to get out of there. The more I paced the floor, the more it felt like the ghosts were closing in.

In a huff of frustration, I headed for the door. “I’ll call you later.”





ELLE


I approached with caution.

The car was parked right where the mechanic said it would be.

I had one hand in my purse, as it was getting late, the area was unfamiliar, and I was uncertain as to the safety of my surroundings. As soon as I got in, I locked the car and looked around the interior. I was worried about what I might find, but it looked just like it had before last night.

Once I was satisfied, I didn’t waste time staying parked on the street. The sun was setting and although I’d never been afraid of the dark, tonight I felt like it was somewhere I didn’t want to be.

The traffic was light and the ride to Erin’s house in Weston didn’t take all that long. Her neatly trimmed hedges and classic colonial home looked every bit Erin’s style. She was a woman who had married her high school sweetheart and whose life had been overtaken by her children. Erin was a bona fide soccer mom who also held a position on the PTA board. She took care of four kids, a husband, and their house, and she never had time for herself. I wasn’t sure if I envied her or pitied her.

It didn’t matter—that would never be my life.

I rang the doorbell and immediately heard the sound of little footsteps coming my way.

The door swung open. “Put ’em up or I’ll shoot,” William drawled.