Chapter 55
A hunting we will gooooo! A hunting we will goooo! Something, something, blah blah blah. A hunting we will go. Fuck. I forgot the words.
I stop, cocking my head with pursed lips, singing the song to myself repeatedly. Oh, well. No matter. I got revenge on the mind in the form of a bloody fucking meeting. Nothing gets my heart pumping and blood flowing like thinking about taking out a sadistic asshole and his minions. Or not his minions. Jer wants to woo the other bosses onto our side. Fat fucking chance that will happen. Those assholes will slice and dice straight through our tendons without a second thought if we show our faces after Gabriel’s untimely death.
It's a good thing I like violence, death, and blood.
Jer's the heir. And I'm the spare. Shepp's the beware.
Because you better beware of the giant mother fucker who looks like a bear. Wait. Bear? Beware? I rub my chin in contemplation. He could be either. Shepp's the big old teddy bear you should beware of. Oh my God, I'm a fucking poet. I should write this down and publish it. I should…
"What in the fuck has you twisting your face like that?" Jericho hisses, jamming his elbow into my side.
Rude.
“Stuff," I say, waving a hand and fixing my face before we enter my dad's church from a secret side door in an alleyway.
Ah, I remember this door. Little me had to go in and out of it so no one would know I existed. It was either outing my father for fucking a drug-addicted hooker and producing me or Jesus.
You see who he chose in the end. The big man in the sky who watches over us. Sky Daddy, if you will.
I guess Jesus is a good choice for him. I never met the guy, but I believe in him. Somewhat. I mean, he made me like this, right? Dad used to say that God made me the way I was supposed to be, but the devil sunk his claws into my soul.
Whatever that's supposed to mean.
My dad was a good dad. He did what he had to do. Sure, I may have been a little bitter after he handed me over to Gabriel Viotto and exited my life as a parent. I still saw him every week for dinner in his small apartment, which was devoid of anything about me. And... Well, okay. Deep down in the depths of my feelings, I'm still a little hurt that my dad just tossed me into the arms of a maniac. Granted, that maniac helped me hone my skills, but his humanity was lacking. I guess that's where my dad came in. We spoke every week when I saw him for dinner, and he helped me work through things.
"You're doing it again," Jericho says, stopping to watch me as we approach the door. "You can handle this, correct? There won't be any reckless mistakes on your end? You understand that we have to be quiet. Invisible, Arrow. No murdering people tonight." He raises a brow with that stern, stuck-up expression he loves to give me.
Yeah, he'll make a great daddy one day. Good thing we have one brewing.
"Yes, Daddy Jer. I know I have to be a good little boy and zip my lips. No matter what." I grin at him, and he rudely scoffs.
"You will contain that murderous rage, Arrow. No matter what they do in that meeting. They could string someone up and disembowel them, and you're not to move."
See? Such a goddamn daddy.
"Aye, Aye, Daddy Jer. I got it." I point to the side of my head.
"That goes for us all. We're invisible."
"Invisible, got it," Journey says sluggishly.
An ache breaks my heart at the sight of her pale face and glazed-over eyes. When I envisioned my woman plump with my baby, I didn't expect this.
"Kitten," I mumble, pulling her into my side and kissing her forehead. "After this, I'll take care of you and..."
"If you value your testicles, please don't talk about cock warming," she grumbles into my chest with a sigh.
"Nope. Wasn't going to say it." I totally was. She's very misinformed about the positive results of pre-cum and my cock just hanging out in her pussy for hours on end. "I was going to say we're going to find you a doctor and get those morning sickness pills for you." I grin, really trying to sell my words. See? I was thinking about her health with my brain. Not my cock.
Those deep moss-green eyes peer up from my chest, narrowing on my grinning face. "Sure," she mumbles, shaking her head.
"All right, let's do this," Shepp rasps, sucking in a breath.
Every time he speaks, I swear his eyes bug out of his head, much like mine. It's odd to hear my buddy's deep voice after talking with our hands for so damn long. God, I'm so proud of him. I could kiss him. I won't, of course. I cock my head again. Unless...
"Stop it," Jericho barks, pounding on the side door with his fist. "You're doing that, getting lost in your head, thing."
"Oh." I shrug. "I was just thinking about kissing Shepp." I don't elaborate when the door cracks open, and my dad's head pokes out.
"Good. You're just in time. Let's get you in position."
I grin when Shepp eyes me suspiciously and doesn’t say a word. He can mull that over while we're in hiding.
My dad pulls out his pocket watch hastily while swallowing a thick lump in his throat. He's being extra fucking suspicious right now, and I can't figure out why. It's been gnawing at me since he pulled us into the empty church and took us into the basement via a secret staircase.
"This has been here the entire time?" My voice echoes through the small stone stairway.
"I, um. Yes," my dad says with wild eyes.
"Cool," I say with a shrug.
"Looks like this was the original setup," Jericho remarks from behind me, looking around at the stone stairwell and taking it in—no doubt memorizing it for when we need to escape later.
"It was." My dad keeps his comments suspiciously short without giving us too many details.
All right, I'll ask him later why he hid it from the family. I'm sure he has his reasons, like spying reasons. He's already admitted to listening to our meetings from a secret spot. How far down the rabbit hole has my father made it?
Dad stops at the bottom of the stairs, standing before a door. He shoves his hands into his pockets before looking at the four of us with a pained expression.
"This stairwell will be open for you to come through once the meeting has commenced."
"And where are we hiding, Dad?" I ask with a grin.
"It's a place no one will know where to look." He offers me a puzzling expression, one I don't know how to decipher. "If you'll follow me."
And we do, straight into a closed-off room with several couches.
"This is where you'll be able to view them through," my dad says, pointing to two vents on the wall.
"This is how you spied on us?" Jericho asks, looking around the small room with furrowed brows.
“They’ll be here in less than an hour,” my dad says, looking at anything but me.
“And how often did you stand in the darkness of this room watching what my father did?” Jericho asks, with no heat behind his words.
A noise bubbles from my dad's throat, and he shakes his head. “I’d rather not discuss that."
Reading between the lines, I conclude my dad has watched every meeting since he struck up the deal with Gabe. Interesting. I'm not mad. But it makes me wonder what I've done under his hidden, watchful eyes. Not that I haven't done crazy shit in front of him before. With Gabe, though, I was protected. Kind of.
“Thank you for helping us,” Jericho says without protest.
My dad licks his lips, giving Jer a sharp nod. "Of course."
“What is this place?” Journey asks, looking through the vent on the wall with furrowed brows.
Stepping up beside her, I lean down and grin. In front of us is an up close and personal view of the stage Gabriel likes to parade around. It's only slightly raised off the stone floor. Oh, what good times we've had here, fighting for our territories. Even pledging ourselves to the family. It feels like yesterday that Gabriel sliced into my chest and made me bleed.
How unfortunate that we're now the traitors in our own damn crime family. Oh, well. We'll take out the trash when the time comes.
“Our meeting and initiation room,” I say quickly, gazing into her eyes.
Journey nods, rubbing through the material of her shirt right where the scar lies on her chest. The same one we have. So, she gets it. I wonder if he dragged her down here, too? Or if she was sliced in the basement she was kept in.
Whatever the case is, I'll slice and dice through Gabriel in the name of hurting my fucking girl. Of course, he's mainly Jericho's to torture. But I'll get my hits in, too. And stabs. And burns. You know, the usual.
“You’ve had a hidden room all this time?" Jericho hums, slowly pacing around the room and taking it all in with his devious, dark eyes.
“My intentions were selfish,” Dad says grimly with a frown. His fingers fiddle together in front of him, and he sighs. "It had to be done. I had to ensure the organization my son was going to be under was as safe as possible."
"Yeah, and how'd that work out for you?" Jericho snarks, shaking his head.
My dad raises his chin. "In the beginning, good. Your father treated him the way I asked him to be treated. He helped Arrow hone his skills and sate his blood lust. Something I was unable to provide for him. But your father..." he trails off, running a hand down his face. "Things seemed to go too far, too fast. I wanted a front-row seat to see what my son was going through. So, if I had to run with him and hide, I would know when to go."
I swallow hard at his misty eyes. Nothing gets me in my nonexistent feels more than my dad. We've been in a strained relationship for many years, but we're finally coming to an understanding. I love the guy, which seems to be a new feeling inside me.
A chaotic black hole filled with nothing but hearts, rainbows, and ponies has opened inside me. It started with Journey. She helped me to understand that I was feeling more than an obsession with her. Sure, I climbed in her window, stole her panties, and took pictures of her sleeping. That was a deep obsession consuming my every move. But the man I am now. The one who will no longer drug her for safety or have to slip through her window to watch over her—that's a man who is in love.
At least, I think.
"So, Daddy-O. You've been watching all these years?" I quip, quickly shaking off the black hole of love consuming me.
"Every meeting. Every initiation. Everything," he says with a sharp nod.
"So, you've been spying on every word said?” Shepp asks thoughtfully, catching the priest off guard when he speaks from behind him.
Right. My Sheppy boy has his damn voice back, and he’s using it all the damn time.
Dad stops in the middle of the room, smiling at Shepp. “You’re speaking again.”
Shepp blushes slightly and clears his throat. “I took back what was mine.” That is all he says when he should have mentioned that he was badass and shoved a knife through his father’s throat without a second thought, forgoing his fucking fear of blood and torture.
My little Sheppy Boy is growing up so fast. I sniffle, staring at Shepp with stars in my eyes.
“Why are you sniffling?” Jericho asks with raised brows. “Is he okay? You're acting weirder than usual today." He gives me that knowing Daddy look that I can't wait to punch off his face. Pfft. Weirder than usual? What an asshole.
"Asshole," I gripe, frowning at the man I call my best friend. "You're demoted to best friend number two. Journey, you're my only number one." I raise my chin in defense.
"For fuck's sake," Jericho grumbles.
"Number one?" Journey says at the same time with a smirk. "I'll take it."
“Is he ever?” Shepp quips quickly, whipping his gaze at me. “You good?” My dear old Sheppy is always checking in on me to make sure I haven't lost myself to the demon hiding inside. The demon is dormant. Well, for now. Right now, I'm high off the ponies and unicorns. Nothing can get me down.
“I’m always good, Sheppy Boy.” I grin at him.
“Son,” Dad says, stepping up to me. His hand finds my shoulder, gently squeezing me. “You’ll promise to behave?”
There’s something twinkling in his eyes when he looks at me—a knowing look. Like the big bad priest of Briar Cove knows something I don’t. Maybe he does. But what is it? I can't put my finger on what he might be hiding. Bummer. I'll pick his brain later, after we've witnessed whatever this meeting is. Hopefully, Gabriel's demise. Or Grace's. She's up there on my shit list of baddies who need to meet their end. Only, I don't know if we'll be able to end her like we've done before.
“I will if you will,” I say back, contemplating what might happen.
It’s foreboding, pressing down on my chest. I’ve looked many enemies in the eyes, staring straight into their souls. They all give themselves away, clueing me into their deceptions. They all eventually break under my torture. But my dad? No. I could never watch him bleed. It would bring me... Sadness. I rub at my chest.
He softly smiles. “Of course I will, son.” He slips away from me, moving to a spot on the wall. “This is an exit button, opening a secure door in the wall leading out into the meeting area. I'm hopeful you won't have to use it."
“Do you have any insight as to what we’ll witness tonight?” Jericho asks, folding his hands behind his back. His head tilts, invading my father’s mind with his cocked brow and knowing eyes.
Jericho senses it, too. I feel it in my fucking bones.
Dad shakes his head. “I was only informed of this meeting right before you called. I assume it’s important if it wasn’t on the calendar beforehand.”
“Of course,” Jericho nods. “Gabriel is always prompt with the monthly meetings.”
“He is,” Dad says softly. “Now, if you sit back and wait, they should be here shortly. You can see everything through the false vents.” He seems almost reluctant to give that secret away when his shoulders tense.
“Are you aware of my mother coming in tonight?” Jericho asks before my dad can scurry off up the stairs.
“She comes every time now, Jericho,” he says with a polite bow.
“Every time,” Jericho murmurs more to himself while nodding.
He doesn’t show how it affects him on the outside, but I can see it from here. He’s furious with her. Hurt. Fucking embarrassed.
“Be safe,” Dad says before waltzing out of the secret room, closing the door to the stairwell behind him, leaving us in a secret hidey hole he's kept from me for years.
How odd.
“That was weird, right?” I ask the room.
Journey slumps into the couch with a huff, leaning her head on Shepp, who wraps his arm around her.
“He’s hiding something,” Jericho says, pursing his lips. “But what?”
That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? What is my dad hiding behind his sinful eyes? It’s a mystery to me. One I don’t have to wait long to contemplate when the entire family waltzes into the meeting room with rumbling voices.