Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Cormac
I’ve kept myself busy for the past two days since my insane decision to meet Joey at her office. I rarely have extra time, but when I do, I have some favorite spots to hang out. They’re not where anyone expects, but they’re places where I can just be Cormac. I’m not a mobster. I’m not a billionaire. I’m not anyone but myself, and the people there appreciate me volunteering. It’s probably because most of them aren’t old enough to be jaded.
I’m glad I saw Joey and saw for myself she wasn’t too seriously injured. But despite work and my time at the community centers keeping me occupied, my mind keeps slipping to her. Her and Pablo. It makes no sense to me why she still fears Pablo all these years later. I can understand a wish to avoid him to avoid an uncomfortable situation. I can understand a wish to avoid him because he’s an arsehole. But her feelings are genuine. That or she’s a better actress than anyone I’ve seen on TV.
“Cor?”
“I’m in my office.”
My brother knows he can still come and go from my place whenever he wants because I’m the last bachelor. We all used to have an open-door policy when everyone was single. None of us brought women home with us. Home is for family. Home is our sanctuary. There was never a fear we’d interrupt someone doing something we shouldn’t see. Now that everyone else is married, that’s a reasonable concern. We text when we turn onto a couple’s street and again when we’re pulling through their gate. Even then, sometimes it’s a close call.
“Do you have the briefs?”
“Yeah. I just finished reviewing them. I made my notes, but they look good.”
Because of our family’s line of work, Seamus and I don’t have a slew of paralegals to help us with our legal endeavors. We don’t bring anyone that close since many times, the lines blur behind the scenes. That means Seamus and I review cases for each other and together, even though he specializes in criminal law, and I specialize in corporate.
“You’ve been holed up here since yesterday afternoon. I thought you were going to meet us to work out this morning.”
“I wanted to get your briefs back to you when I said I would. But I have that merger I want to finalize.”
“You always have a merger to finalize. That doesn’t mean you stop working out.”
“I missed a morning. I don’t think I’m going to wither away.”
My brother and I are the biggest men in our family, just like our dad is the biggest of the brothers. It’s not like there’s a massive difference in our size from our cousins. We can still wear each other’s clothes, but Seamus and I are a little broader across the back and chest than the others, and our legs are more like tree trunks. We’re just denser—many have said that about our intellect too. Sometimes it pays to come across as the muscular oaf. People talk more when they think you’re too much of a meathead to understand.
“Okay. How’re your ribs?”
“Sore but fine.”
“So, neither work nor your ribs are the reason for you to bail. You didn’t want to come over for dinner last night either.”
“Did I hurt Tiernan’s feelings? Was I rude?”
“No.”
Seamus and I are known for the best manners in our family.
“Then why’re you making a big deal over nothing? We’re all homebodies. I didn’t feel like going out, so I decided my time was best suited getting work done.”
I know he doesn’t believe me. However, I’m not ready to admit I wanted to work to stay distracted from Joey. And I didn’t want anyone in my family asking why I was mooning around, thinking about her. I know they’d guess, and I’m not ready to discuss it. From Seamus’s expression, I know he’s in two minds whether to press the issue. He holds up the folder I passed him.
“Thanks. I’ll send them back for a last review when I finish.”
He’s going to let it go. For now. Seamus gives me one last long look before he nods. We speak at the same time, trained since the moment we could talk.
“Love you.”
That’s a requirement our parents set up for us when we were learning to talk. We never swear at each other, and we never go a day without telling each other we love them. Since I talk to almost everybody in my family every day, that’s easy to do.
We understand how temporary life is since we’re always on death’s doorstep. Our parents taught us the last thing you say to somebody should never be harsh words since you might never get to take them back. In their minds, we should say it every single time we talk to each other. That doesn’t always happen since we usually talk to each other multiple times a day either by text, call, or seeing each other. But it always happens at least once.
Our parents usually insist we only speak Irish when we’re with them. We normally do in front of them, but their fear we’ll forget the language is wasted since we all lapse into Irish and switch between that and English as naturally as we breathe. By the time we each started kindergarten, we were fluent in both languages; reading, writing, and speaking, even if it was just simple stuff.
A set of sisters married a set of brothers. All six of them learned English only just before they went to kindergarten. It’s not because they were new arrivals. Our families have been in the U.S. for generations, but we want to preserve that family tradition, and it’s best for business.
It often pays to speak a language whomever we’re negotiating with can’t. When we’re on missions, we try not to speak at all. But if we have to, it’s in Irish. No point in giving away what we’re going to do next just so the enemy can find us. We’re all big enough and with bright red hair to stand out. We don’t need to make being a target any easier.
Seamus takes off, and I turn my attention back to my computer. My mind once again goes back to Pablo and wondering if there’s more between him and Joey than she’ll admit.
I considered following her yesterday, but I drew the limit at that. I wonder where she is now. I wonder where Pablo went yesterday since I’m certain he went back to see Ignacio to reinforce the message he left with the bodega owner. Supposedly, anybody in that neighborhood is off limits, but I don’t think Pablo knows everyone we’re doing business with.
I’ll have to go back soon to collect on more protection payments. It’s not like people do a direct deposit to us or PayPal or Venmo it. There’s no digital payment set up for something like that because the last thing we need is anybody tracking that money. We’re certainly disinclined to pay taxes on it.
I look at my calendar to see when I’ll have time for that tomorrow since I have several client meetings already lined up. We’re always in the midst of some merger or acquisition or sale. We flip corporations much like some people flip houses. Some we buy and hold on to, but many we buy, make sure they appreciate, then sell at a profit.
Others we break down into smaller parts and sell those off or turn them into shell corporations too. We’re careful not to commit excessive tax evasion because we’re not going down like Al Capone. A little humility goes a long way, so we ensure we look on the up and up as much as possible.
Joey’s still on my mind when I turn in for the night. I don’t wake up thinking about her, but as I conclude my last client meeting and head over to Port Richmond, once again, I’m thinking of her. As I find a parking spot, I look around and wonder if she’s here too or if she’s in a different neighborhood. Unfortunately, she’s not the one I recognize.
Dios mio , that hijo de puta is here again.
I release a beleaguered sigh as I lock my car. None of our cars are straight off the factory line. They all have customization. Not just my family’s, but the vehicles belonging to all the Four Families are like that. They don’t beep when we lock or unlock them. The headlights don’t flash when we lock or unlock them. And the dome light goes on if there’s a bomb underneath our car. Normally, they don’t turn on because we don’t need the interior being illuminated when we’re trying to be inconspicuous.
Pablo spots me at the same moment I spot him. His scowl is going to stick one of these days. Maybe I should slap him upside the back of the head and see if that old wives’ tale is true. Lord knows I’ve slapped him across the face and knocked that smirk off it more than once.
He’s grinning at me by the time I cross the road. I’m willing to meet him on his side of the street rather than being stubborn and thinking he’ll come to me. I want this conversation over as soon as possible. He is not who I want to waste my time with today.
“I thought you understood you aren’t welcome back here.”
“I have memory problems.”
“The hell you do. You have a memory like a fucking steel trap. I’m positive you remember the conversation we had two days ago.”
“Maybe.”
I shrug and return his grin. It’s patronizing as fuck, and I know it irritates him, but I’m just fine with that. We’ve never been friends, and I’m not looking to make friends with him now.
“Look, Cor, you know this is our neighborhood. Just butt out. Go somewhere else. Go find a Russian one and fuck with the Kutsenkos instead of us.”
“What, and forget to return the favor for all the trouble you’ve caused my family lately? No, I think not. I think one good deed begets another and shouldn’t go unpunished.”
He doesn’t care for my mixed idioms. I’m pretty sure he would snarl at me if there weren’t people around. I should give him a hard time about how he sounds like a baby walrus when he does.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on your suggestion and find a new neighborhood to take from the Kutsenkos. But we’re not going anywhere until we collect the last of what’s due here. So, either you pay up for your amigos or they pay up. One way or another, we’re getting our money. I’ve got a baseball bat in the back of the car. I’m happy to use it, whether it’s against your kneecaps or against some windows.”
“You’re not doing shit. You’ve always talked a big game, Cormac, but there’s nothing you’re going to do while my men and I are here.”
“Yeah, but you won’t sleep in a neighborhood like this. You’re going home at some point. I’ve always been able to wait you out. Nothing’s changed about that.”
“I bet you’re waiting for Jocelyn Bracero.”
It shocks me to hear Joey’s name from Pablo. I’ve been worrying they might be connected. Now, it’s confirmed. I don’t know why it surprises me so much, but my expression gives nothing away. I’ve always had a poker face.
The other guys in the Four Families had to learn not to give their thoughts and emotions away, but it came naturally to me. I’m the most stoic in our family. I was the kid who would have the hundred-and-four fever and tell my parents that I felt a little off.
Seamus was the one who would point to wherever he didn’t feel well and say, “it hurts right here.” I’d be nearly on death’s doorstep before I would go to my parents and say something was wrong. I just have a higher pain tolerance than most, and that’s always terrified my parents because they fear one of these days, I’m going to be injured worse than I realize. They fear I won’t admit I need help until it’s too late, but I’ve learned my lesson about that. If somebody else in the family insists I need to get checked out, even if I don’t agree, I do.
“You can pretend like hearing her name doesn’t bother you, but I saw you together the other day. I saw you chatting on the sidewalk, and I know she’s the one who pushed you out of the way, so you wouldn’t look like a piece of moldy Swiss cheese today.”
“I thanked her for making sure there wasn’t a shootout here on the streets while kids were out playing and coming home from school.”
“Yeah, I heard she tackled you and knocked you down the stairs. I thought you were more solid than that. Maybe you’re getting flabby in your old age.”
This fucknut is older than me, but it’s obvious there’s nothing flabby about either of us. I cock an eyebrow and roll my eyes.
“What’s it matter to you whether I spoke to her?”
Pablo assesses me for way too long, and I’m uncertain if his mind is as blank as it usually is, and he’s trying to unnerve me, or if he’s really thinking about how to answer that question.
“She’s not who you think she is, Cormac. I’d stay away.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Consider that a neighborly tip.”
“There’s nothing neighborly about you. What’s it matter to you whether I know Jocelyn?”
I’ve asked twice. I won’t ask a third.
“It doesn’t matter to me, but it will matter to you. I’m telling you it’s a mistake to have her anywhere near you.”
“If I didn’t know better, Pablo, I’d think you sound possessive.”
He laughs at that, but the man hasn’t given an actual laugh in at least twenty years, so it sounds rusty at best. It’s more like a cackle.
“I’m just giving you a warning. Don’t come to me later and make me tell you I told you so.”
“You’ve got to give me a better reason than that. But it’s not like I’m going to see her again soon.”
He juts his chin to the left, and I look over my shoulder. Sure as shittin’. Joey’s walking out of an apartment building. It’s the nicest one on the block, far nicer than the one she left just before we met.
Her shock isn’t a surprise, but her dismay hurts. I watch as her head turns each direction, and her gaze sweeps the street. She pauses as she spots Pablo’s SUV and his men standing near the vehicle. She turns her attention back to Pablo and me, and it’s as though I can hear her thoughts from here. She looks like a rabbit ready to flee, trying to decide which is the fastest way to get back into her warren. She opts for spinning on her heels and rushing into the building she came out of.
“Doesn’t look like she’s so pleased to see you, amigo .”
Pablo’s voice is nothing short of a sneer. I resist the urge to slap it off him.
“She didn’t mind talking to me the other day. Maybe she doesn’t mind seeing me, and it’s your ugly arse she’s avoiding.”
“I don’t know. The last time I spoke to her, she didn’t seem to think I was so ugly. At least not the way her eyes kept skimming over me.”
He’s trying to goad me, and it’s working.
Thank God for my stoicism.
“When was that? Six years ago? Wasn’t that the last time you spoke to her?”
“Hardly. It was yesterday.”
That’s a gut punch, and he knows it. I look back across the street and shrug.
“Well, then she’s all yours.”
No, she’s not!
My brain screams to me, but I want to see Pablo’s reaction. The smug bastard grins again. I’ve never wanted to punch him so much. But if Joey’s lied to me or changed her mind about Pablo, then I’m barking up the wrong tree. I’m not interested in pursuing somebody—period—let alone someone who’s not interested in me.
I just want to make sure she’s safe. And I guess she is, if she and Pablo are talking.
“That really chaps your ass, doesn’t it?”
I haven’t looked away from Pablo since I turned my attention back to him after Joey walked back inside.
“What chaps my arse? It turns out she doesn’t have as good taste as I thought she did. What’s it to you, Pablo?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I shrug and look past him to Ignacio, who’s standing in the doorway now. I cock an eyebrow, and Pablo twists to look over his shoulder. I don’t know how he isn’t already sure it’s Ignacio since there’s no one else who’d be standing there. But he double checks because just like any of us, no one’s fond of people standing behind us who aren’t family or our men.
It leaves us too exposed, and that’s just asking for trouble. Pablo’s grin drops, and his face morphs back into the scowl. It’s the one I expect from him. He looks back at me, and now it’s my turn to grin.
Ignacio dropped off an envelope at one of our strip clubs last night. It’s the last part of what inevitably became his last payment. At least it’s better than a swift kick up the backside, as my granny used to say. She wasn’t as full of expressions like that as my nana, but she definitely had a few.
“What do you want, Ignacio?”
Pablo speaks to the bodega owner, but his gaze remains locked on me. That just makes my smile even broader. He wanted to goad me earlier. Now I’m returning the favor.
“I thought I’d offer you horchata, el tigre .”
The tiger. It’s one of Pablo’s titles because of his seniority. There’re a few others he could go by, but it’s the one he favors. People sucking up to him usually call him that. I prefer the title of arsehole. I find that the most fitting.
“Not right now—but thank you.” He tacks on that last bit as an afterthought.
I look at Ignacio and shake my head, still giving him a smile. The man’s brow furrows in confusion because I know he wasn’t offering anything to me, but Pablo doesn’t need to know that. Let him think his little bodega owner still fears me or believes we might do business, so he’s offering his hospitality to me, too.
“Pablo, I got shite to do that isn’t getting done standing here with you.”
“Then you should go finish whatever crap you have. Wherever it is, it isn’t here. We both know that.”
“The sooner you let me collect the outstanding balances, the sooner I’ll leave the neighborhood, and I won’t come back.”
“What? You don’t want to see me with Jocelyn?”
“I already told you. You can have her. If she’s interested in you, then who am I to stand in the way?”
“How very altruistic of you, Cor. I’ve never known you to be that way.”
“I am with people who’re worth my time. I can spare a minute for you today.”
I am not eager to turn my back on him like I did the other day as I crossed the street to tell Joey it was safe for her to leave. But it looks like I’ll be doing that again. I turn to my right, ready to head to the first business on my list.
“Did you know she has this little quirk where she squirms when?—”
Dramatic much? Pablo stops before he says whatever it is he thinks will piss me off. Hell. There might not even be anything at all he plans to say. He leaves the thought dangling to make me curious—or suspicious.
It works, but I won’t let that bother me. I noticed Joey came back outside again when I turned away from Pablo. She’s trying to sneak away while we’re focused on each other, but I’m certain Pablo notices her just as easily as I do, and he proves it.
“ Hola , Jocelyn.”
I turn to face her as she stops dead in her tracks. She’s not thrilled to see him either. She doesn’t seem to appreciate his attention in public. Are they more than what she said, and they’ve been keeping it a secret? She doesn’t look fearful. She looks annoyed. It doesn’t match what she was doing the day I met her.
Did they work things out between then and now? Did the piece of shite charm her?
I watch her. Then I notice Pablo’s shadow shifts. I turn back to where he stood, but I’m forced to watch him cross the street toward Jocelyn. She looks more than uncomfortable.
Her gaze darts to me, then she pivots a second time and dashes back into the building. Now I’m pissed.
“What the feck, Pablo?” We often use feck just to irritate others. “Why is she running from you if she’s supposedly into you?”
I hate that I’m following him anywhere like I’m a little bitch, but my ego’s more interested in what’s between Pablo and Joey than it’s concerned about appearances.
“She’s not running from me. She knows I’ll be up when I’m done with my conversation with you.”
“She really believes you and I are going to discuss business out here in the open?”
“We’ve just been chit-chatting so far.”
“So why does she feel like she can’t be here for that?”
“Because she’s got better things to do up there. You know who owns that building, right?”
I do.
It’s his bag of arse cousin, Javier. That shouldn’t matter, but it does the moment he speaks.
“Did you know he keeps an apartment there he doesn’t rent?”
I did know that. It’s where he tucks away his subs since we’re all into a kinky lifestyle. It’s not that this is a horrible neighborhood that’s unsafe. It’s just an unlikely place. He believes his relationships are private. Amongst all of us, there’s nothing private about the Four Families’ sex lives. We know far too much about each other.
“She might have been looking me up and down yesterday, but who do you think she’s going to up there? Who do you think she’s been with each time she goes back inside?”
“If it’s Javier, then her taste is even worse than I thought when it was just you. She went from wanting a sociopath to a psychopath. I wouldn’t say she’s making any improvement in taste if that’s who she wants.”
I hate speaking about her like that. But if it is true, then I’m not lying.
“You went to see her at her office. You were very chummy together.”
That makes me go rigid as I square my shoulders. “Are you following her?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“You could, but I’ve already asked you. What’s the deal? Are you following her? If she’s with Javier, then why are you getting in the middle of things?”
“I’m not the one who followed her. But that doesn’t mean we don’t know what she gets up to.”
“Is that how little Javier trusts her? Is he following her? Has he finally gone full-blown psychopath and is a stalker? Worried he can’t keep her satisfied? That she might run off with someone else?”
“Fuck off, dude.”
“Dude? You’re getting soft in your old age. Pudrete . You and your patético primo .”
I’ve been telling him and his pathetic cousin to go fuck themselves for twenty years. I grin and waggle my eyebrows at him.
“None of us are worried any woman would pick you over one of us.” Pablo attempts to appear disinterested, but he’s the one who started this.
“That’s because there’s no point in worrying about something you can’t change. But whatever. If she wants to be with somebody in your family, then that’s on her. I have shite to get done, Pablo. All you’re doing is delaying me, so the men I’m here to see today have time to run like little bitches. That’s fine by me. It means they keep their stores unguarded. I’ll just get what I need and be on my way.”
“You’re not taking shit from this neighborhood, Cormac. I’m warning you. This neighborhood’s off limits.”
He steps up in front of me, and we’re almost equal in size. Except I have about ten pounds and a quarter inch on him. I know I’m still stronger than him from the last time we got in a fight, which was three weeks ago today, actually. I push my shoulders back even more, and I make it obvious just how big I am.
But I see no fear flash in his eyes. Not that I expected it since we’ve known each other nearly our whole lives.
“What’re you going to do to stop me, Pablo? Get your arse beaten in front of your men and half the neighborhood? Seems like that’s what always happens when you challenge me. Certainly, what happened last month.”
“You’d really risk a fight here in the middle of the street?”
“I’m not the one who’s getting too close. Back off, and there won’t be any reason for a fight.”
He doesn’t move, and I didn’t expect him to. It’s been at least a decade, if not more than that, since I fought over a woman. The last time—now that I think about it—was a melee during high school, when Javier and his two shithead brothers insulted Maria Mancinelli. My brother and cousins and I taunted the Mancinellis about not being able to protect Maria since the Kutsenkos stepped in. And we taunted the Kutsenkos about how they couldn’t stop the Diazes. That was the first, last, and only time I fought over a girl.
When he leans in, I tell him a second time. “I’m not doing this here, Pablo. So, back off.”
I move to step around him, and he moves to block me.
“Why don’t you go up and say hi to your new friend? I’m sure Javier wouldn’t mind.”
I make to step around him again, but this time he gets closer than he realized. The tip of his shoe bumps into my foot. In our world, that’s as good as a declaration of war. I put my hands on his chest and shove him hard.
“Personal space, dude . You’re in my bubble.”
He doesn’t have to look around to know people are watching. He has the same sixth sense I do. Plus, it’s just obvious two opposing syndicate men squaring off in the street won’t end well for anyone. But it’ll give all the chismosos —gossips—in the neighborhood shite to talk about for days.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Cormac.
“What? Tell you more than once to move the feck out of the way, and when you didn’t, I made you? You gonna run and tattle to your tío ? You need Enrique to solve all your problems, don’t you? He’s had to get you out of a lot of shite lately. I believe it was my sister-in-law who made all of you—including Enrique—apologize. I know your uncle didn’t appreciate being lumped in with you for that major feck-up.”
Nothing.
“You really got nothing else to say?”
I pause for a moment, giving him a chance to respond or get out of my face. Instead, I see him make a fist. I’m ready to duck, then plow my fist into his gut when he decides punching me is the response he wants to give.
He “oofs,” but that’s it. He’s got washboard abs just like the rest of us. It doesn’t hurt my hand, and it’s only a momentary distraction for him. It’s enough for me to plow my other fist into his temple. He staggers back a step before he launches himself at me, swinging one fist after another.
He gets a glancing blow off my chin with his third or fourth attempt, but it does nothing to me. As my mother loves to remind me, I have a hard head. He tries again, but I lean forward, putting my shoulder into his sternum and pushing. We both go sailing, landing hard. This time, I don’t care that I land on top of the person I fell with, but I don’t stay on top long. He rolls and shoves me, so I wind up on my back, but only for as long as he did. I push him off, and we both scramble to our feet.
It’s rare you see two men in fifteen-thousand-dollar suits grappling with each other in the street. We come back together like a clash of angry lions. Or—oh wait—tigers. That’s right. Well, I’m about to show him who the leader of this pack is.
I drive my fist in an uppercut that lands below his chin, snapping his head back. I draw my fist again for a jab, but his men intervene. We weren’t fighting long because it wasn’t that far for his men to get to us. They pull us apart, but he and I try to launch ourselves at each other again.
It’s only when I see Joey’s horrified expression as she stands beside her car that I stop. I shake off Pablo’s men, and they let go when it’s obvious neither he nor I will try for another round. We both straighten our ties and shirt cuffs beneath our jacket sleeves.
“Pablo, let me finish my business, then you don’t have to see hide nor hair of me. But keep me from finishing business here today, and it’ll be a lot more than extorting some piddly store owners that I go for next.”
I notice movement across the street as Luke, one of our most trusted men and something like a third cousin twice removed or some shite, nods to me before he slips into one of our SUVs that just pulled up.
Pablo’s head whips around in time to see Luke hold up manila envelopes and duck into the SUV. I run my hand through my hair and smirk at Pablo as pure rage settles over his face. I step onto the street and walk around him.
We’re both carrying guns; I’m certain he felt mine holstered under my arm just like I felt his at his lower back. The cardinal rule Ronaldo and Jesus broke is that you don’t shoot where anybody can not only get hurt but be a witness. Pablo and I understand that way better than those ni?o s.
I get in my car and watch through my rearview mirror as Pablo gets in his vehicle with his men and heads off in the opposite direction. I keep glancing at him when I stop at the end of the block. I shift my gaze forward as the light changes, but I slam on my brakes before I go more than a foot because a kid steps off the curb, waving his hands. He comes over to my window, his hands where I can see him. The boy couldn’t be more than ten or twelve years old. I roll down the window halfway.
“You can’t tell anybody I told you this.” He darts his gaze around, clearly having second thoughts.
“What can’t I tell anybody?” I keep my tone light, trying not to scare the shite out of the boy.
“Those things se?or Pablo said about se?orita Bracero weren’t true. Se?or Javier owns the building, and he has a friend who lives in his apartment, but it’s not se?orita Bracero. She was there to see my cousin. He caught whatever I had. I just got better enough to come outside to play today. My abuelita didn’t want me to, but I was bored. I can’t stay long because she’ll be back from the grocery store soon. But I went to see how my cousin was doing, and she was there. I saw her. I watched through the window when she went down the first time. Then she came back inside just as I came downstairs to leave. She told me to stay inside. I listened to her, but the front door was open.”
He points back toward the building.
“You were close enough for us to hear your conversation. She didn’t like what se?or Pablo said because it isn’t true. Se?or Javier hasn’t been here in like two months, maybe three. His friend who lives here is always angry these days. I think she misses him.”
I offer him a more genuine smile than I did Pablo. Trouble in paradise between Javier and his sub. That’s a little nugget to tuck away for later. Not because I would do anything to the woman, nor would anybody else in my family, despite what’s gone down in recent years. However, it is a nice little nugget for when I want to piss him off even more than I did Pablo.
“Thank you for telling me this. Was se?orita Bracero angry when she left?”
“Yes, extremely.”
“At se?or Pablo or at me?”
“Both of you. But I think more at se?or Pablo because of what he told you. She wasn’t pleased when you got in a fight. That’s when she left for good.”
“Thank you for telling me this.”
“Please don’t tell her I did. I’m supposed to be going home. She made me swear I wouldn’t waste any time. But I don’t think this is a waste. I don’t like people who lie.”
A shiver runs through him, and it makes me wonder who’s lied during his brief life.
“And se?orita Bracero is always kind to all of us. And she’s so patient. I wanted to help her because she always helps me and my abuelita .”
“I’m glad to hear she does that for you. I won’t say anything to her about you. But I’m happy to know she has such a brave and loyal friend as you.”
The boy beams at me as he steps back and turns around. He starts to run but stops and coughs for a moment. I’m ready to get out and help him, but now he walks quickly instead. He seems fine, but I follow him to make sure he gets into the building I saw Joey come out of the other day. I wait to see if any of Pablo’s men or anyone else follow him in.
It’s fifteen minutes before anyone does. And it’s an older woman who looks a lot like the boy, so I’m confident Pablo didn’t see him talking to me. Or if he did, he’s not lashing out to punish the boy. I don’t think he would, but I put nothing past the Diazes.
I wonder if everything Pablo said was a lie. Most likely it was. But now there’re more thoughts jumbled around in my head. I’m considering the possibility that maybe Jocelyn lied about how things stand with Pablo. Or maybe he spoke to her yesterday and charmed her. That stirs an emotion in me I have rarely felt. I grew up with five other boys and Dillan’s little sister, Colleen, before she died.
I think I’ve shared everything for the most part, and I’ve always been glad to do it. Seamus was two months premature, so I was only seven and a half months old when he was born. We’re practically twins, so we’ve always acted more like we are than not. We don’t have the same genetic intuition Sean and Shane have. But we’re pretty damn close. I’ve always shared everything with him until Tiernan came along. I would never ask, and he would never offer.
But the thought that Pablo might have something I don’t—that he might have someone I want—makes me want to punch him all over again. Preferably with a knife in my hand. I head back to my place, but a call from Dillan makes me turn around.