Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
Alfie Scott
“ S o, anyway. Why do you sound like you just woke up?”
“Because I did,” I bitched. “Lemme tell you—waking up to Liam calling ain’t the same as waking up with West next to me.” I walked out of the bathroom and decided I could get dressed later. Sweats worked for now. “West shut off my alarm and thought a love note would make shit okay.”
All right, it was more than okay, but motherfucker, I had to step up my game. He was being way too good to me.
Dad chuckled gruffly, and it sounded like he lit up a smoke in the background.
“So…some improvements, you said?” I asked, heading down the stairs. It felt so weird sleeping in. It was past ten! West had dropped the kids off at school, sent Colby off to a driving instruction thing, brought breakfast to Dad at the hospital, and now he was on his way back with breakfast for us.
“Yeah, two surgeries done, hopped up on painkillers,” Dad replied. “If I don’t smile when she tries to talk, I’d cry like a baby.”
Fuck, it hurt. I was haunted by the photos he’d taken of her injuries. She looked so frail and broken in that hospital bed. And the anger that followed—I didn’t know what to do with it. I couldn’t show West the extent of it, and I definitely couldn’t show the kids any of it.
“I told West don’t bother coming down yet,” he went on. “We’re just waiting for the next surgery.”
“Okay, but I wanna see her today.” I picked up Ellie’s hairbrush from the floor and tossed it onto her bed in her room. “Have the police stopped by?”
“Aye, a little while ago,” he answered. “They might be back. She couldn’t give many answers.”
Yeah, I bet.
Once I was in the kitchen, I put on coffee. I’d been warned by Liam last night that they’d set shit in motion hella quick, and yeah, then he’d called in the middle of a sexy-as-fuck dream about West choking me out with his cock. But instead of waking up to turning that dream into reality, I had to get my shit together because Liam and Finn were on their way over.
When life was bad—like now with Mom—I needed two things. Sex that distracted me and dark humor. Now I’d been cockblocked twice in as many days. I was over it.
“But what answers could she give?” I pressed. “Anything about what the attacker looked like?”
“She did mention a mark on the guy’s hand,” he replied. Now we’re talking . “Apparently not a tattoo, but maybe a stamp of some sort.”
“Like from a nightclub?” I trapped the phone between my ear and shoulder, and I grabbed a notepad from the first drawer.
“I don’t know. She couldn’t make out what it was, just that it took up a big portion of the top of his hand. And, uh…” He blew out a heavy breath. “Um, he was about six feet tall—burly, she said—and he wore a bandanna or something to cover most of his face. And he had an accent, Russian or Eastern European.”
I jotted it all down and felt a spark of energy. Like we were finally heading somewhere. The accent, the mark—good shit. Anything to narrow things down, unlike six feet tall like half the male population.
“By the way, why are you and West smoking again?” Dad asked.
“One thing at a time, old man,” I replied. I was still busy writing notes. “Did Ma fight back? I tried to teach her how once and where to strike if she was ever attacked.”
“She did.” Something in Dad’s voice grew gentler. “She was mumbling some kind of chant that sounded like IBS first, and?—”
“L-B-S,” I chuckled. “Liver, balls, skin.”
“That’s the one,” he murmured. “I think—I didn’t understand all of it, but I think maybe she couldn’t reach the liver…? I mean, if he was, you know, pressing down on her… And I don’t know if she managed to scratch him up. I sure hope she did.”
I clenched my jaw and nodded to myself. They had to die. They had to suffer.
“She did get him in the balls, but I don’t know how forceful that coulda been,” he finished.
Maybe not enough to create a perpetrator walking around with a limp, in any case. But that was still good. Good for her. The liver was a forceful strike in self-defense, so were the balls, but scratching the skin was for the authorities to collect evidence. DNA under the nails.
“Aight. Um, someone might come by later,” I said, clearing my throat. “Liam said we’re gonna talk to a detective, so don’t protest or mention it to the other cops, just in case.”
“I’m not known to chitchat with cops.”
No, but he was known to protest.
Three sharp knocks on the front door saved me from circling back to why West and I were smoking again, so I wrapped up the call and told him to let me know when I could visit.
For the record, were we really smoking again? Trip and Ellie didn’t know. And we were at what, three or four per day? Bitch, please.
I unlocked the door and opened it. “Oi. Come on in.” I noticed Finn and Liam weren’t alone. They had someone I didn’t know with them.
Finn frowned at me. “Why are you always opening the door shirtless?”
I snorted and draped an arm around his shoulders. “To give you a reminder, cousin. This is what abs look like.” I smooched his cheek before I backed off.
“Piss off.” He walked farther in and shrugged out of his suit jacket. “I’m sorry to hear about your ma.” He gestured at the other guy, who strode into the kitchen with a device—wait. Was he checking for bugs?
Liam smacked me upside the head. “I don’t need the abs reminder. Put on a shirt.”
I smirked and shut the door.
It was good to have them here.
“So, uh…” I gestured vaguely at the no-name guy.
Finn didn’t respond until the guy offered a nod and left something on the table. It was another gadget, something I couldn’t even guess what it was.
“Okay, we’re good to go,” Finn said.
The guy left again, and I raised my eyebrows.
“Seriously?”
“It’s not you.” Liam clapped me on the shoulder. “We’re just careful.”
Finn pointed at the thingamabob on the table. It was the size of a fist. “It’s a noise container. Kind of like noise-canceling headphones, only this one sucks the noise in rather than shuts it out. We can speak freely in a ten-foot radius.”
Jesus Christ.
“Technology of tomorrow designed by Eric?” I guessed.
“My God, you’re new.” Finn shook his head and draped his jacket over a chair. “I’mma pray for you.”
I rolled my eyes.
In a battle between running up to the third floor to find a T-shirt and…getting coffee, the coffee won.
We sat down at the kitchen table, and I shared everything I knew, from what had happened and where, to what my mom had been able to tell the cops.
“I talked to Hanna—he’s gonna dig around,” Liam told Finn.
Finn nodded and took a sip of his coffee.
“Who’s Hanna?” I asked.
“Detective Reid Hanna,” Liam said. “We have mutual interests.”
Finn eyed me a little in his usual observant way. “Before we go any further—how you doin’?”
“Right this second, kinda numb,” I said. “I’m in and out of anger, apathy, and needing ice cream.”
He nodded again. “Alfie, I know you’re not technically a Son yet, but it’s not like there’s a ceremony waiting. You’re a Son for all intents and purposes, and we can’t have a member’s mother getting attacked without repercussions echoing throughout the city.”
“Okay, extra creamer for me today.” I swallowed hard and poured some more into my coffee.
Finn pressed forward and cleared his throat. “We’re gonna use what happened to your ma to set an example.”
“Truth is, we need it,” Liam went on. “This is a peacetime era, and it can make smaller outfits cocky when they haven’t seen us exert our authority in a minute.”
“Dumb minds and stupid short memories,” Finn noted.
“What do you wanna do?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about the message,” Finn replied. “What I need know is how far you wanna get involved. First of all—patience. Cases like this one… It can be five minutes till we track the motherfucker down, or it can be a year. It’s not gonna be a year. I’m just saying.”
I nodded in understanding.
“But once we have the guy…” He trailed off.
I took a breath, hearing West’s voice in my head. His warm, rich, soothing voice. His unwavering support and his caution. He wanted Mom’s attacker to suffer too, but he was reasonable enough to be careful and not want me to cross too many lines.
“I can’t pull any triggers,” I admitted. “It’s a nice fantasy, but when push comes to shove, I don’t think I have it in me to take a life.”
Finn inclined his head. “Nothing wrong about that. What about making him suffer?”
“Yeah, sign me up for that.” I lifted my mug and took a sip. I was definitely gonna wanna face that dickless wonder.
“In other words, we’re getting him alive.” Finn said that to Liam. “By the way, your man called my office this morning.”
I raised my brows. “Word?”
He nodded. “He wants to meet with one of my agents to put together a security package for your folks’ house. Including an escort to shadow your ma when she’s out.”
Fuck me sideways, wasn’t that just the sweetest shit ever. I swallowed hard, a little overwhelmed by how amazing he was.
“I don’t deserve him.” I eyed my left hand and wondered if it was too soon to propose.
“Join the club. I don’t deserve Emilia either,” Finn said. “Thing is, as a Son in the inner circle, you’re already entitled to this level of protection—but the way I see it… It might be a good thing for West to be in charge here. From what little I’ve observed, he needs to be useful, and this might help him feel closer to the operation without actually being involved.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“You’re weirdly sweet sometimes, Finn. Yeah, let him handle that,” I answered.
He shrugged. “I like West. He’s not like the other Main Line brats, and my old man’s spirits have lifted like the Eagles.”
“Go Birds.” I quirked a smirk.
Liam muttered into his coffee. “There are better teams.”
Finn and I shared a dry look.
“Not from Chicago,” Finn chuckled.
Liam sat up straighter. “Uh?—”
“We’re not here to talk fuckin’ football,” Finn told him. He turned to me again and returned to the topic. “Don’t worry, we’ll get West the family discount. In the meantime, you keep working as usual until we find this fucker. Did your mom give a statement yet? Hanna’s gonna wanna see it before he goes back to collect more information.”
I went to grab my notepad.
West showed up half an hour or so later with bagels, and Finn took one look at the spread before he decided to stay.
“I appreciate it. Emilia’s making chicken salad for lunch,” he said.
“You poor man.” West humored him.
“It’s a side dish, not a main course,” Finn stated.
“It’s also a hint, cousin,” Liam said.
“Fuck you,” was Finn’s response. “I’m fine as fuck. She wants to get healthier, and it’s still Alfie’s fault—his damn videos on Insta.”
I chuckled and helped West put out the last of the toppings on the kitchen table.
“I’mma grab a quick smoke before we eat.” Finn headed out, and Liam tagged along.
I hauled out the toaster before I pulled my man in for a hug.
“Hey.” I kissed him quick.
He smiled. “Hey back. Did you get your criminal work done?”
“Shit’s in motion.” I locked my arms around his neck, just needing a moment of peace. “Finn mentioned you talked to one of his guys about security for Mom and Dad.”
He hummed and stroked my back. “I had to do something. I woke up so angry about it all.”
I hugged him harder and kissed his neck. “I love you, you know that? What you’ve done for me the past twenty-four hours alone makes me wanna pop the question.”
He chuckled and inched back enough to nuzzle his nose with mine. “Proposing is my privilege, and it’ll happen soon enough, I assure you.”
I beamed, and he kissed me.
On a more serious note, I had to come up with something to show him how much this mattered to me. He’d annihilated countless of his own boundaries to accept all my…uh, complications…so I had to make up for it. I wanted to.
“Let’s head out to Ardmore after we’ve been to see Ma,” I murmured. “I wanna start looking at houses.”
“Oh yeah?” He lifted his gaze a few inches as he combed back my hair with his fingers. “Do you have an area in mind?”
I did. I hadn’t meant Ardmore as in, let’s go home to where we currently live . I meant that it could be our future home’s location too. “Yeah. Do you remember the blue four-bedroom we checked out on Linwood?”
He knitted his brows together. “That’s in Ardmore.”
“It was also, according to you back then, way too close to Lancaster.”
“Where nobody in their right mind wants to live.” The Main Line snob came out to play, and I grinned.
“What about a little closer?” I asked. “It doesn’t have to be either-or, does it? We don’t have to live so far out that it’s basically the wilderness.”
“Spoken like a true city boy,” he chuckled.
I shrugged and scratched my nose. “If we were a little closer to restaurants and shit, I’d be more than happy to stay in Ardmore.” I removed a piece of lint from his shoulder. “You know, the Suburban Square or whatever it’s called—we could actually walk there if we lived nearby. Spontaneous dates, losing track of the kids, one shop at a time…”
He smiled and brushed his lips to mine. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“And I solemnly swear we’ll find a place far away enough that you won’t hear the train.”
“Sold.” He smiled before he deepened the kiss, and his hands went down to my ass. “I admit, it would be nice to get away from a neighborhood with the nosiest neighbors.”
Because there was nothing else to do out there!
“I admit, it would be nice if you railed me sometime soon,” I retorted. “I have needs.”
He rumbled a laugh into the kiss and pinched my ass. “I apologize for neglecting you.”
Okay, that was good to hear.
I settled in for a nice, tongue-teasing kiss that seduced me good and proper, but he ended it way too soon.
“Are you really sure about Ardmore, though?” he asked.
Hadn’t we just covered this?
“I understand wanting more of the hustle and bustle, but no matter where you live in Ardmore, it’s not going to be like Center City,” he finished.
Rather than dismissing him with a quick, “Yeah, I’m sure, and now we can make out again,” I eased back a little and looked him in the eye.
“Last time, I was scared I’d move too far away from everything I was used to,” I admitted. “It wasn’t just the location. It was losing my routines, my organized chaos?—”
“Which has never been very organized,” he teased.
I laughed through my nose. “But you catch my drift?”
He sobered and nodded. “A valid fear, in retrospect. I took too much from you.”
“You didn’t take shit, papi. I was a grown man. I agreed.”
He didn’t seem satisfied. “Nevertheless, we’re not moving anywhere unless we both love the place.”
I knew what would make me happy. We could live in the area he loved, a nice, quiet street within walking distance of civilization, without prolonging the short commute to the kids’ schools, as long as that home was really fucking ours . We both paid for it, we both decorated it, we both agreed that I should always be in charge of the music, and we both wanted a bulletin board in the kitchen for my map of Philly’s takeout favorites.
Not that my folder with sixty-seven restaurant apps wasn’t organized as fuck.
Finn and Liam chose that moment to come back in, and I pressed a kiss to West’s cheek before refocusing on breakfast. Busy morning and hopefully a sweaty night—I needed food.
I placed the smoked salmon and cream cheese closest to where I’d sit. “Oi, mates. While youse were out, West and I agreed to buy a new house and get married soon. How’s that for productive?”
Finn sat down, all business. “Good to hear. Add a couple extra kids to that too, and I’m happy.”
“What the… We have two ,” I said. “Three, if you count Colby.”
“We can count him all you want,” he replied. “I’m thinking about our next generation of Sons here. I’d be nice if I wasn’t the only one doing that.”
I let out a laugh. “You’re outta your fucking mind if you think you’re recruiting Trip.”
He smirked and turned to Liam. “Should we tell him about the Daughters of Munster?”
The what?
“I reckon we’ll save that for another time,” Liam chuckled. “But Ellie will fit right in.”
No, she fucking wouldn’t. They were joking. The Daughters of Munster wasn’t a thing. Right?
I glanced over at West, only to see him typing on his phone. “A little help here?”
“In a moment.” He didn’t even look up. “I’m texting Shan. I want to know more about boarding schools in England.”
Finn cracked up at that.
Given the circumstances, I thought I was handling the whole thing fairly well after all. I hadn’t freaked out and done anything rash. West and I had talked like adults, openly and honestly. I hadn’t cried into my ice cream. I hadn’t punched a wall, even!
Maturity.
Growth.
“Don’t you think I’ve been extremely mature throughout this assault bullshit?” I asked.
West side-eyed me before he made a turn. We were in the middle of an intersection, having just picked up donuts and coffee for Dad.
“I suppose it depends on where we set the bar, sweetheart,” he said. “I am surprised you haven’t been more visibly upset, but let’s not forget that you’ve negotiated the murder of the attacker.”
“Which you’re fine with—that last part,” I said.
He rumbled through a heavy exhale. “Which I begrudgingly accept because I’m evidently a hypocrite who doesn’t think the judicial system’s protocols apply to my family.”
I smiled. “And you’ve handled that very maturely too.”
That earned me another side-eye before he asked me to light up a smoke for him.
I could do that.
One for him, one for me.
We rolled down our windows, and he accepted his smoke.
“Were you serious about the house hunting?” he asked. “As in, you want us to start now, not just look around at Ardmore streets?”
“Dead serious. I want my papi to get his Barbie dream house.”
He chuckled softly. “ Our Barbie dream house.”
Yeah, except… “I mean… I’m gonna be happy almost wherever with you. As long as we decorate the house together, unlike last time when you approved things on a tablet that a decorator ruled over. I was an idiot back then because I didn’t care, and it contributed to how I didn’t really feel at home. But when it comes to the house itself, the features, the size, I want you to fall head over heels with it. It’s important to me.”
He hummed and checked the rearview. “Why do I get the feeling you’re acting out of guilt?”
Guilt was a strong word. “I don’t feel guilty …as much as I wanna make your life as easy as you’ve made mine.”
His forehead wrinkled. “First of all, my life is easier now than it was six months ago. I can finally breathe . Second of all, buy me a nice watch.”
That was cute, but no. I shook my head. “You can’t woo a millionaire with something he can pick up on his lunch break.”
He laughed a little. “Are you trying to woo me, baby?”
Fuck yeah! And also, even the score.
I blew smoke out the window. “Wooing is always on the table, but sometimes you deserve more of it when you’ve had to make too many concessions in our relationship. I wanna make it up to you. I wanna show my appreciation like the mature adult I am.”
He sighed in that way that let me know he was gonna go into lecture-mode.
“Alfie, when we were married, you made so many concessions that you became more than one person,” he said. “We’re not doing that this time—and it’s not what I’ve been doing now either. I have reevaluated things. Sure, I now permanently live in a morally gray area, but I don’t give a fuck. I just don’t care anymore. We’ll handle those woes together.” He took a quick drag from his smoke. “What I’m high on these days is this…this intrinsic honesty between us. It’s never felt so natural and so genuine before, as if we both require it, and it’s made it so incredibly easy to trust you again. So, believe me when I say I have never been this happy, and I certainly don’t wake up every morning and feel the need to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing. My surrender was absolute and changed my perspective. There’s no going back.”
That was some lecture.
I swallowed and let his words settle within me, like frilly little flower beds by the bridges we were rebuilding together, and I couldn’t fucking believe how liberating it felt.
“Nothing I say can compare to that wordsmithery, so I’ll just say I love you a stupid amount, and thank you,” I said.
He squeezed my hand briefly. “You’re your own brand of smith, my love. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Mom had just been taken to a recovery room when West and I stepped out of the elevator.
“Dad’s supposed to meet us here,” I said.
He walked out of a set of doors seconds later, and I took a steadying breath and steeled myself.
I’d been warned that she looked worse. All the bruises had darkened since yesterday—but she was doing better, I reminded myself. All surgeries had gone off without a hitch, and she had pain relief. The good juice.
Dad looked so tired, and he hadn’t gone home to change clothes or have a shower yet.
“I think it’s best I stick around while you pick up the kids and go home later,” I said quietly. “Dad needs a break.”
West nodded. “Agreed.”
We met up with him closer to the doors, and I gave him a one-armed hug.
“How are you, old man?”
“Tired and fucked in the head.” He ruffled my hair like I was some kid. “The doc just finished an exam. I thought he kept saying lobotomy, but apparently laparotomy is a thing too.”
I lifted my brow. “Uh.”
“For the surgery they did in her abdomen,” he explained. “To close blood vessels or whatever he said—the internal bleeding.”
Oh. Yeah, okay.
“Anyway—just a heads-up,” he went on. “They’ll be putting her on blood thinners so the blood can, uh…clot properly…or something. And they warned us that her bruises would look worse, but it’s normal.”
Yeah, aight. I just needed to see her now.
Dad led the way down a corridor past the doors, and I hated the smell.
“Is she awake?” West wondered.
Dad tipped his hand. “Here and there. She can talk easier, but she’s drowsy as hell.”
I grabbed West’s hand. “Didju talk to the family?”
Dad nodded. “Everyone knows. I asked Giulia’s parents to hold off a few days, so I’m keeping them posted. But it’s better they fly in when she’s back home and resting.”
Yeah, definitely. It’d be nice to see Nana and Gramps again, though.
“What about Grandma and Pops?” I asked next. Just like my mom loved West possibly more than she loved me, Dad’s mom was mildly obsessed with her daughter-in-law. Ma was the daughter Grandma never had—and she had a daughter.
“They’re headin’ down from Boston this weekend,” he said.
“Please mention discreetly that I want stew in buckets,” I told him. Grandma made the best fucking Irish stew ever.
Dad chuckled quietly and stopped outside a door. “Quit thinkin’ about food, kiddo.”
“That’s a big bag of nope from me,” I swore. Then I swallowed uneasily and felt the need to crack another joke. Anything to mask the growing discomfort within. I hated being nervous.
As if sensing my mood, West squeezed my hand and kissed my temple.
“Let’s go see her.”
Dad nodded and opened the door slowly, and he was the first to enter.
Fuck. I was gonna see her all banged up. Currently, Dad was blocking the view, and that kind of worked for me when I turned into a chickenshit. Like, all of a sudden, I was seven years old again, and that was my mama in there. Mama was never sick. Never weak.
“Honey? Alfie and West are here to see you.” Dad walked over to her bedside and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and my stare got completely stuck on her form. I saw her arms and her face, nothing else, but that was bad enough.
Holy fuck.
I gnashed my teeth, and a numbing pressure traveled up my arm until I noticed West and I were holding each other’s hands way too tightly. I loosened my hold a little and let out a shaky breath, and when West approached slowly, I had to do the same.
“Lee-Lee,” Dad murmured. “Our boy’s here.”
No one will ever hurt you again, Mom.
Before I was ready, I was right there next to her bed, and West released my hand to gently touch Mom’s hand.
Seeing her with my own eyes made everything real in a way it hadn’t been before.
“You get all the rest you need, Giulia. We will be here,” he said quietly. Then he kissed the side of my head. “I’ll sit down over there.” He nodded at a chair in the corner.
Deep breaths.
Mom stirred a bit as Dad brushed his hand along her bruised arm.
“Mom?” Fuck. My voice almost cracked. I cleared my throat and grabbed the chair next to the other bed. Nobody was using it, or the other bed—or maybe that was where Dad had slept. “Can you hear me?” I sat down closer to her and carefully held her hand.
She made a groggy sound and cracked her eyes open a fraction. It looked like her eyelids felt heavy, even though the bruising wasn’t too bad there. She had a small black eye on her right side, then more marks down her cheek and neck.
“ Mijo ,” she croaked.
“Yeah, I’m here.” I lifted her hand and kissed the top of it. “Dad said the surgeries went well. That’s good, innit? You’ll be outta here in no time.”
She sniffled and threaded our fingers together, which reminded me of her injuries. I looked over at her other hand, and there it was. A cast.
“Did she break her arm too?” I asked quietly.
“Her wrist, so they did the whole…” Dad ghosted his fingers a bit past her wrist. He must’ve forgotten to mention it earlier. The cast looked thinner than the one I’d had as a kid. “She won’t have it long, the doc said. A couple weeks, and then she’ll get splints.”
Christ. She was a Kinder Egg of surprise injuries. I didn’t even wanna look under the blanket to see her legs.
“ Mijo ,” Mom rasped. “You let the police…handle…this, capisce ?”
“Of course, Mama. Don’t worry about it,” I replied.
She closed her eyes, let out a breath, and tilted her head toward Dad. “Gotta be careful… Our son is a wackadoo mobster.”
West coughed, presumably to hide his humor, and Dad laughed outright.
“Be nice to him, honey,” he chuckled. “You’re gonna want him around when I’m at work and you’re in the mood for roasted pork.”
Oh yeah. “I’m your man, Ma. You let me know, and I’ll drive over to Juanita’s and order whatever you want.” I flicked a glance at Dad. “Can she eat solids?”
I didn’t know how extensive her injuries were around her neck and jaw. She had no neck support today, like in the photos when she’d had bandages all around.
“Soon enough,” he confirmed. “She’s got the IV for now, but according to the X-rays, she’s just sore.” Yeah, and she had a split lip. “I’m guessin’ they’ll bring by Jell-O or some shit first. I don’t know.”
We’d see. Either way, she had a long recovery ahead, and I was gonna smother her with attention until she kicked me out.
“You should head home and shower and rest,” I told Dad. “I’ll stick around for a few hours.” I stroked Mom’s hand. “You want me to read you gossip on my phone, Mom? Huh?”
She used to love that.
“Or maybe later, after you’ve rested…” I felt my forehead crease. She was already falling back asleep.
If God was real, let him be my witness. The man who’d hurt my mother was going to die a painful death.
I looked over at West in the corner, and I found him staring into space in Mom’s direction. As if he was miles and miles away. And something about his demeanor held an edge, something cold. I didn’t like it.