Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
West Scott
“ H ow’s your hand?” I murmured.
He yawned and hitched his leg over mine. “Sore.”
I bet. It was a bit red and swollen, and he had a few minor scratches.
I kissed his knuckles carefully before returning his hand to my chest.
Then it was my turn to yawn, and I glanced out the window.
We had to get out of bed. I’d hoped calling in sick today would’ve granted us a nice Friday where very little happened until we picked up the children from school. Alas…
“Am I supposed to be freaking out about yesterday?” I asked.
If anything, my mind was at utter peace. I didn’t know if I had anything left to process. We’d spent most of last night talking, and nothing had changed. We were glad those motherfuckers were gone, and hopefully we could move on now. The guilt was certainly not there.
“Not yet,” he responded drowsily. “It’s too early. We asked my folks to take the kids to school for a reason. We can sleep another hour, papi.”
Uh, no, we’d already done that. “You said that when we woke up an hour ago.”
Phil had called to let us know the children had been dropped off at school and kindergarten. Once more, he and Giulia had come through for us by handling the drop-off.
“Fuck,” Alfie whispered. “How important can this damn meeting be?”
Perhaps not very important to him, but I had a feeling it would involve me quite a bit. Shan had called me last night to say we needed to meet up this morning to discuss the “message” the Sons were sending Philly’s underworld.
Every time they sent a message, news media became like rabid dogs for a week or two, depending on the magnitude.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Care to join me?”
He actually whined. “Don’t make me choose.”
I chuckled silently. The decision had been made. We could circle back to sex later, maybe tonight.
I disentangled myself from Alfie, knowing I’d have to wake him up once I came out of the bathroom again.
An hour or so later, we were guzzling coffee in the car as I drove us toward Finn’s business by the docks.
Alfie yawned.
I took another sip of my coffee. “Should I get a new car?”
He knitted his brows together. “I don’t think there are any shoulds when you drive a Mercedes that’s less than a year old.”
Maybe not, but it could be fun. Alfie was always going to drive an SUV, which was great for family road trips, but I preferred sedans.
“Do you wanna talk about your mother?” he asked.
“What’s there to talk about?” I was coming to terms with the fact that I’d done my grumbling about it. We’d had a slow breakup of sorts, and I’d spent weeks unsure of how to feel as well as how to move forward. And yesterday had brought me closure.
“I dunno.” Alfie shrugged. “So, Shan must’ve been there when she stopped by, right?”
Technically. Kind of, toward the end.
“Yeah. She’s not a fan.”
He laughed through his nose. “I woulda loved to see that.”
I checked the rearview before I switched lanes, and I passed a few cars.
Hopefully, Shan had time to meet up soon. I really did need to check those listings in Killarney, where the O’Sheas originally came from. And where the entire inner circle gathered every Christmas.
“By the way, I gotta stop by the old house today,” Alfie said. “I ain’t installing a fuckin’ lockbox, so I gotta let the cleaning service in.”
Right, that was scheduled at one, I was fairly sure. Fuck, I had forgotten about that.
“So we’ll do lunch after, and then we can pick up the children,” I replied. “We have some catalogues to look through for the contractor. They’re in the trunk.”
I wanted us to move in to our new house as soon as possible, so it’d be nice if we could have every decision settled by February. One wall needed to come down, we wanted a new kitchen, new bathrooms too, and we had to decide on wallpaper.
“Let’s eat at the pub, then,” he suggested. “It’s never crowded for lunch.”
Perfect.
We could discuss Colby at lunch too. Alfie had admitted he’d basically coerced the boy into showing him the video of Giulia, so he wanted to make it up to him.
On that note, I wanted to talk to Alfie about the living arrangements at the new house too. I understood a teenager like Colby might prefer the guest apartment above the garage, but it felt like he’d be on the outskirts of our family in that case.
That was the opposite of what I wanted. He should have a room on the second floor just like Ellie and Trip. Besides, teenagers were supposed to suffer and have very little to no privacy.
We arrived at Finn’s office a while later, and I climbed out of the car and buttoned my suit jacket. Then my coat too. I wasn’t a fan of it, but since my favorite coat hadn’t survived half an hour at the safehouse, I’d had to dig out an older one.
The parking lot was gravel, and the low building didn’t strike me as one where you held important meetings. This was all industry and warehouses.
“Should I have dressed up?” Alfie asked.
“No, you look edible, and that’s what matters.” I’d picked out the chinos for him for a reason. His tight little ass looked incredible in them. Paired nicely with a long-sleeved tee that highlighted his physique and tattoos once he pushed up his sleeves, which he always did.
Some paired food and wine. I had better skills.
He smirked to himself and zipped up his parka. “You always know what to say, papi.”
We headed inside, where we were met by a nice little lobby area. But the fish-tank walls allowed us to see the cubicles beyond.
Shan and Kellan were standing by the elevators, so we walked over to them.
“Morning.” Kellan jerked his chin, looking about as tired as Alfie. The two bumped fists.
“Good morning, you two.” I smiled.
“How are you feeling today?” Shan wondered.
“Weirdly great,” Alfie replied. “I got a good night’s sleep, and my brain’s a happy place.”
I chuckled, agreeing. “I think two months of overanalyzing and preparing ourselves almost made yesterday a bit anticlimactic.”
Kellan snorted and turned to Shan. “Anticlimactic? He’s not as innocent as we thought.”
Shan smiled. “I don’t know. I had a feeling from the start he’d be the right amount of fucked in the head.”
I let out a laugh, and Alfie grinned slyly and grabbed my hand.
We walked into the elevator together, and Kellan pressed the button for the second floor.
“West, a heads-up,” Shan said. “You’re about to meet someone who was new around the time your father retired.”
What on earth? Retired from the FBI?
“As in…” I cocked a brow, not wanting to say too much until we were in a secure place.
He inclined his head. An agent, then.
“He’s with us,” Kellan finished.
“ With or just like…you know, kinda?” Alfie pressed.
“With,” Shan confirmed.
In other words, this agent was an actual Son, not just an associate or affiliate.
I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised.
“You do have your fingers in many pies,” I noted.
Alfie groaned as the elevator doors opened. “Now I want pie. We’re hittin’ up Second Daughter after this.”
“Have I heard of this place?” Shan asked Kellan.
Kellan nodded. “They have the brownies you like.”
“Then we’ll go there too. I need something sweet today.” Shan took the lead down a corridor that looked nothing like the first floor. No fish-tank offices.
“And what am I?” Kellan frowned.
“I can’t dip you in my coffee, boy,” Shan drawled.
I smirked to myself.
At the end of the hall, Shan walked into a boardroom with no windows, just paneled walls and spotlights embedded in the ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess the room was all sorts of soundproof and isolated.
A large oval table took up most of the space, and two men were already seated. I hadn’t met them before.
“Detective Hanna, good to see you again.” Shan shook hands with the man in a well-worn leather jacket that had to be too cold in this weather.
So that was Reid Hanna, who’d helped us with the investigation.
“You too.” He was rugged-looking, a bit younger than me, and carried himself as if he’d been military before.
Shan handled introductions, and we shook hands with both Hanna and who turned out to be Agent Fitzpatrick with the FBI.
That was bizarre. Has this guy actually worked in the same office as my father?
The agent glanced at Shan. “This is Agent Scott’s son?”
“We’re nothing alike,” I stated. Partly because I remembered my dad’s nicknames from work.
Shan smirked. “Some apples fall far.”
Fitzpatrick chuckled. “Okay, good. Not that I didn’t learn a thing or two from Scott.”
“Like how to file a report?” I guessed.
It was his turn to smirk. “How to delegate and how to come off as someone who’d never do anything wrong.”
Well, then.
Finn and Eric soon showed up, and people started taking their seats. A much younger guy followed with a tray filled with coffee and pastries, and he left as quickly as he’d appeared.
“Morning.” Finn sat down at the head of the table with a cup of coffee and a handful of blue-colored folders. “Intros covered?”
“Yes. Go ahead.” Shan nodded.
I hung my coat over my chair and sat down between Alfie and the detective.
“All right, good.” Finn opened the top folder and eyed the first page. “Hanna and Fitz are here today to give us the latest rundown of cop affairs. We know Ford and I always have spotlights on us, and as of last month, the Feds are curious about Colm.” He lifted his gaze to us. “The important thing is, very little interest in O’Dwyer.”
Alfie straightened in his seat and frowned. “Why am I offended?”
“Because, to quote our daughter, you can be a ding-dong,” I replied.
That earned me some chuckles.
Finn shook his head in amusement and continued. “This is good. They obviously know who you are, but—” He waved a hand at Fitzpatrick. “I’ll let you cover this.”
The agent shifted in his seat. “The general consensus at the office is that you’re primarily part of the family,” he told Alfie. “The bureau doesn’t seem to believe you can get a seat at the inner-circle table as fast as you have, so there are very few agents pushing for an investigation, which we wouldn’t get approved at this point anyway.”
That was a relief.
Finn nodded for Hanna next.
“I have even less to say,” he answered with a shrug. “As far as I know, O’Dwyer is a name on a note stuck to Liam Murray’s dusty case file. We don’t put resources on any of this until there’s an unsolved case that the Feds bounce back to us.”
I wasn’t surprised. I’d seen their budget and knew their priorities.
“Which brings us to where we are now.” Finn took over again. “Ford, you recently had a sit-down with Henry from Strawberry Mansion, and he further proved we gotta put our foot down. Freelancers and smaller outfits are getting cocky north of Diamond, and we’ve had more shit brewing in the south too.” Like Luka and Jakov, I assumed. “This is why I wanna make an example outta the Balkan boys who thought it was a good idea to brutally assault five women around Pennsport.”
Shan cleared his throat and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I’d say it’s particularly vital we strike back because they did this in Pennsport. Not only because we’re from there, but because we don’t want violence in the area when we’re in the middle of negotiations for our rezoning project on Ritner. We have a lot of residential property down there.”
I wasn’t sure I should be here for this, but nevertheless, I soaked up the information. The more I learned, the better I understood—and if they had invested in property around Pennsport, the crime rate mattered even more. In addition, a rezoning project? On Ritner? That struck me as odd. Were they trying to build a commercial corridor or something? I didn’t think Finn would be on that side of the ongoing debate.
“What are you doing in Pennsport?” I felt the need to ask.
“Nothing, aside from protecting it,” Finn answered. He seemed irritated by the topic. “We’re trying to prevent some new-money cunts from opening up a district of vegan bakeries, dog cafés, and artisanal burger joints where you get flakes of gold in the bun. Take your $60 gold dump elsewhere.”
I shared a grin with Shan. Now it made much more sense.
Alfie stifled a yawn.
My sweet boy.
“Moving on.” Finn circled his finger and went with the next printout in his folder. “Thanks to Jakov’s and Luka’s contributions, we have ten body parts to distribute around the city. Luka’s head will be left outside the precinct where Hanna works.”
Jesus Christ. I shifted in my seat and swallowed. Like a flip of a switch, my easy-breezy Friday turned into a headache, because I knew what that kind of message would do to the city. Hell, this would get picked up and spread across the country.
The news department at my show would be all over it.
“Why not Jakov’s head?” Alfie asked. That was his question? “I made it so pretty.”
Finn sighed. “Because we can make sure there’s no Son DNA on body parts. We can’t do that on…what the fuck I should call Jakov’s face. Blood salad?”
“I was thinking blood suey,” Kellan noted.
Finn found that funny. “Either way, it was better to go with the person who didn’t assault your ma, Alfie. Now that we’ve done the work for them, the police are gonna know two things. The mother of someone closely linked to the Sons was attacked, and the Sons solved the case and dumped evidence on their doorstep.”
Right, so should we discuss that? Because it sounded fucking insane.
“You will all be brought in for questioning,” I stated.
“On what grounds?” Finn asked curiously. “It’s not like we’re gonna carve ‘Best regards, the Sons of Munster’ into the limbs. There’s a difference between knowing and knowing, West.”
I planted my elbow on the armrest and scrubbed a hand over my mouth.
They were fucking certifiable, the whole bunch.
“They will knock on our doors, of course,” Shan reasoned. “But nothing will actually connect the evidence to us. And when I say us —” He glanced at me. “I’m not sure that will include you and Alfie.”
“It likely will,” Hanna said quietly. “Only because it was O’Dwyer’s mother who was attacked. They’ll basically ask if you know anything. We can’t do anything else.”
Alfie and I looked at each other. If that was all it was, I didn’t mind. I could deny, deny, deny. No problem. As long as he didn’t become an actual suspect.
“I’m cool with it if you are,” he murmured.
I inclined my head and faced Shan. “Is there any way we can get a heads-up so the children aren’t home when the police show up?”
He shifted a questioning glance at Hanna.
“That won’t be a problem,” the detective said. “I have a buddy on the case, and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut if I paid him.”
Philly’s finest, huh?
“In that case… Okay.” I cleared my throat and nodded. “A bigger problem is my work. I can’t—and won’t—stop my news department from covering this, and I can tell you right now it’s going to be a clusterfuck of a month.”
“That’s our next topic,” Finn replied. “First of all, give the people some credit. And us. By blowing this shit outta proportion, we’re aiming the fire at the police. They’re not doing their job if a crime syndicate solves the case for them.” He took a swig of his coffee. “The attacks were barely mentioned in the news before the last one, because the number was suddenly big enough. But now…? Now it’s taxpayer money at work. If there’s one thing we love to bitch about, it’s when we’re not getting what we pay for.”
It was a fucking tragedy that he couldn’t be more correct. Our viewers would probably forget the speculations about the messenger, so to speak, within a week or two. The debate that would overshadow everything, and go on for longer, was that the police had fallen asleep at the wheel.
“Secondly, we wouldn’t ask you to suppress any news topic,” Finn said. “That’s how you raise suspicion.”
Fair enough.
“You keep doing your job as usual, West,” Shan added. “On that note, we want you to know your position is secure. You have the entire board behind you.”
As I should have. I’d brought the ratings up seventeen percent. But…fine, it felt good to hear.
“You have us behind you too,” Finn said. “That’s partly why we wanted you to come in today. We’re not going to suppress any topics or tell you how to run your show, but we have one suggestion I think will benefit us both.”
I was listening.
“We wanna make sure you get the police commissioner on air,” he revealed. “Viewers will wanna see him, but he’s shit at public speaking. So we think it’ll take some of the heat off us.”
I nodded slowly. We would’ve tried to get him, regardless of Finn’s suggestion, but there was no denying it would be easier with assistance.
“We have a deal,” I replied.
“Fantastic.” Finn flashed a quick, satisfied smile and moved on. “The news will break early on Tuesday morning. Before then, not a fucking word about this to anyone.” The latter was aimed at Alfie. “I know your folks have suffered enough, but don’t tell them the fuckers are dead yet.”
Alfie pinched his bottom lip and shook his head. “I’mma postpone that till the last minute. Chances are she’s gonna get pissy with me again.”
“What do you plan on telling her?” Kellan asked.
Alfie lifted a shoulder. “I dunno. Like, she don’t gotta worry no more. And once she sees that on the news, she can connect the dots herself.”
As much as I knew Giulia would detest the lack of answers, I believed that was the best way to go as well.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, princess?” I added a stick of butter to the pot and stirred slowly.
“I think Shorty wants a baby sister.”
Oh, really. I glanced down at Ellie on the floor, where she was dragging a shoestring around for Shorty to chase.
“That’s not what I heard,” I told her. “He let me know the other day that he loves being the center of attention. He doesn’t want to share you and your brother.”
She looked at me dubiously.
“Especially now that it’s almost Christmas,” I pointed out. “He wants all the presents to himself.”
That made her snicker. “I’m gonna give him sooo many presents. Nonna gave me a quarter every time I said a Spanish word, so I’m rich!”
I exhaled a laugh—but then a genius idea came to me, and I made a mental note to add it to my Christmas list. It was something we could all do together as a family, pick up some Spanish. And not only for Giulia’s sake but the rest of Alfie’s family on her side. It would mean a lot to them.
Honestly, Alfie understood more than he admitted, or gave himself credit for, but he always refused to answer in Spanish. Same with Italian, although he’d prattled off curse words more than once to demonstrate his skills.
“Aight, Colby’s home!” Alfie announced, coming down the stairs. “I’mma talk to him outside. Trip’s in the shower.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” I got Ellie’s attention. “You can go upstairs and get ready. Soon as he’s done, it’s your turn. Then we’ll eat.”
It might be the first time in her life she’d sprinted for a shower, and we had Giulia to thank for it. She’d bought Ellie shower gel with glitter in it.
In the meantime, I brought the sauce down to a low simmer and checked the chicken in the oven. Five or ten minutes to go. I’d started the sauce too early.
Now I could eavesdrop.
Once Alfie was out the door, I headed for the living room, which was now packed with boxes of Christmas decorations. He’d brought them down from the attic a couple of hours ago, and we’d decided to be lazy and hire someone to come over and put it all up. It wouldn’t be our first time.
I spotted Alfie and Colby closer to the garage, so I went with the window in the corner of the room, and I opened it carefully and hid behind the drapes.
“No, I just wanted to have a word without the acid trip interfering with her brilliance,” Alfie was saying. “I’ll make it short because it’s cold as fuck.”
“All right…?”
“I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday,” Alfie went on. “I took advantage of my position, and it was a shit move on my part. You were just following Eric’s orders.”
I smiled and folded my arms over my chest.
“It’s okay,” Colby said. “I probably woulda done the same thing.”
“Doesn’t matter. If Eric had been in the room, he would’ve punched me.”
“Aight,” Colby chuckled quietly. “Did everything work out?”
“Life’s good—I’ll say that much.”
I caught some movement, and they were slowly walking toward the door.
“By the way,” Alfie went on. “As you know, we’re moving in a few months. Let’s keep this between you and me—but when West asks if you’d want a room in the house instead of another guest apartment above the garage, can you do me a solid and pick the room?”
Oh, that little fucker! That was supposed to be Colby’s choice, for chrissakes. I’d told Alfie this today at lunch, and he’d promised we’d bring it up with Colby together.
“I don’t get it,” Colby replied. “Ain’it better I stay in the apartment? I don’t wanna step on any toes, man.”
I stiffened as unease gripped my chest from the inside. He couldn’t fucking think?—
“Uh, let’s not get shit twisted hea, buddy,” Alfie said. “We’d prefer it if you were in the house. But we realize a teenager like you probably wants space.”
Yes, that.
Colby chuckled again, but it sounded awkward. “I’ve had space all my life…”
Ouch. I rubbed a hand over my jaw and felt like a goddamn idiot.
Alfie cleared his throat. “Then fuck space.” Well said. “We were tryna respect your boundaries, but say no more. It’s zero space from now on.”
I pinched my lips together and grinned. Sometimes, his lack of finesse still brought out the best responses.
“I’ll spell it out for you, kid. You’re family. We’re thrilled you’ve grown closer with JJ and his wife, but we wanna be your home. We wanna see you at dinner every night, and we’ll bitch at’chu if you stay out past curfew.”
The best responses.
I’d heard enough, so I quietly closed the window and returned to the kitchen.
Maybe they were having another moment outside, because they didn’t come in until I was halfway done setting the table. The rice was finished, the sauce was almost done, and I’d shut off the oven. I just had to take out the chicken.
Given the new topic between Alfie and Colby—hockey—I made sure to come off as casual. I’d let the boy know I felt the same way Alfie did later, though in a way that didn’t reveal I’d been a snoop.
I wasn’t brand-new.
Once the chicken was out, I poured the sauce over the dish, and Trip trailed into the kitchen and asked why our stockings weren’t up yet.
“Everything will be up next week, champ,” Alfie promised. “We gotta buy a stocking for Colby too.”
“I can do that on Monday,” I said. “Ellie wants one for Shorty too.”
I had to look at the ones we already had first, because it was a tradition to have them utterly mismatched. But with the first letter of our names on them.
“I hope you didn’t throw mine out,” Alfie said.
I frowned and set the food on the table. “Why on earth would I have done that? I much preferred to torture myself by looking at your stocking in the box at Christmas.”
“Awww…” He came over to me and smooched my cheek. “Don’t worry, I cried in my ice cream for you.”
I kissed him back. “Good.”
Trip scrunched his nose and exchanged a look with Colby, who shook his head in amusement.
“Ellie, it’s dinner!” Alfie hollered.
“She better not be covered in glitter.” I didn’t know how that kind of body wash worked. She’d had bath bombs with glitter before too, though the sparkles had thankfully dissolved in the water. “Trip, can you get the napkins on the island, please?”
“Yup!”
Meanwhile, I grabbed milk and water from the fridge.
I flinched, just catching a glimpse of the white napkins, and for a quick second, I saw myself wiping blood off Alfie’s hands. I’d gone through a dozen wipes to get it all off.
Right after I’d shot two men in the head.
Right after he’d tortured them.
I shook my head to clear it, and I fetched the salad bowl from the island too.
I supposed flashbacks were normal after that sort of experience.
Was I a killer? I honestly didn’t feel like one. What did that say about me?
Do you care?
When Ellie came down, her hair a damp mess, and thankfully free of sparkles, we all gathered around the kitchen table to eat.
The pinch of unease in my stomach loosened and disappeared, and I soaked up the chatter. The usual suspects, Alfie and Ellie, loved to rile each other up.
“That’s my milk, Daddy!” Ellie yelled.
“I had a quick taste. Calm down.”
“…and I was thinking about a microscope. Dad? Dad, are you listening?”
Right. I shook my head and smiled. “Of course, son. A microscope, huh? That sounds fun.”
“Yeah, it’ll be at the top of my wish list,” he said.
Duly noted.
“I want a bunny,” Ellie announced.
Oh Christ. I chuckled under my breath and put some salad on my plate.
Alfie answered around a mouthful of food. “Then we gotta give away Shorty first. You want that?”
She gasped in horror. “You can’t do that!”
I smiled and pushed the chicken closer to Colby. “What do you want for Christmas, Colby?”
“A bunny?” Ellie asked him pleadingly.
Poor boy. He didn’t get a word in edgewise before Ellie had a bunch of suggestions that would magically appear in her room if she had her way. He took it in stride, though. A princess castle? Another cat? A doll? Legos?
“I don’t know,” he laughed quietly. “I did like Legos when I was a kid. Does that count?”
“You know, we actually did a segment on that a couple of years ago,” I mentioned. “It’s become a grown-up hobby.”
“I know what Colby needs,” Alfie said, forking up more rice and sauce. “His own car. He needs to get around.”
That wasn’t a bad idea at all, actually. Despite the wide-eyed look Colby was currently giving us.
Throughout dinner, that buzzing question popped up every now and then—where I asked myself if I was a killer. Or rather, if I cared about the answer. And somewhere between Alfie and Colby cracking up at one of Trip’s deadpan puns and Ellie wondering if she could dye Shorty’s fur blue, the solution came to me.
The questions were wrong.
Had I helped out in eliminating Giulia’s attacker?
Yes.
Did that make me feel guilty?
Not one fucking bit.
“What about green?” Ellie hedged.
What was she smoking? She became outraged if someone suggested she colored an animal in one of her coloring books a shade that wasn’t realistic.
Alfie chewed around a mouthful of food and stared at her. “You think it’s the color we’re saying no to? You can’t fuckin’ dye the cat’s fur, baby. It’s nuts.”
I leaned closer to him. “What about yellow?”
Ellie gasped. “I like yellow!”
Alfie gave me a look. “And you call me a shit-stirrer.”
I smirked.