Chapter 27 Shep
SHEP
WHEN ALESSIO DIDN’T return to dinner, I went looking for him.
He wasn’t hard to find, holed up in his office surrounded by more gadgets, computers, and screens than I’d ever seen in my life.
I didn’t know what half of them did, but that was where we’d always relied on Alessio.
He always got us through any storm, any difficulty, any situation for which we’d need his expertise, but looking at him now where he stood adjusting one of his monitors, his food untouched, maybe that was the problem.
Maybe we relied on him too much. Put him under too much pressure.
He was, after all, only human.
Something I was sure he was kicking himself for as he glanced over his shoulder at me and went back to what he was doing.
“Dinner over already?”
“Just starting on dessert. Wanna join us?”
I knew what the answer would be, but I wanted him to know that I was here. We were here. His actions weren’t going unnoticed.
“I just got in a new shipment of toys from Stavros, so I need to get those linked to our systems and filed away.”
Not only was Dimitri Stavros the man in Benoit’s life, he was also an arms dealer that kept us supplied with all the latest and greatest weapons and tech. I could understand that being like fucking Christmas to someone like Alessio, but it seemed like an excuse as a distraction.
“That could wait until after the tiramisu, don’t you think?”
He didn’t answer, popping open a steel case and carefully picking up a tiny object that I had no doubt did something bigger than it appeared to. Like picking up a conversation miles away or shattering bulletproof glass.
“Alessio?”
“Sorry, I’m busy.”
“Too busy for dessert and bottomless whiskey?”
“That a problem?”
I crossed my arms and stepped farther inside, giving him a clear indication I wasn’t leaving. “Yeah. Maybe it is. Seems like King wanted tonight to be about the brotherhood, but you’re hiding in here, not eating and pretending like you’re okay.”
“Jesus, Shep, I am okay.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“How the hell would you know?”
“Because I know you, and you’re a sarcastic shit, not a combative ass. Talk to me.”
He shrugged, his hair falling like a curtain around his face and blocking me out. “There’s nothing to say.”
“Bullshit. You’re beating yourself up over this, and you’ve got to stop. You worked it out—”
“After how many fucking close calls?” Alessio snapped, whirling around to face me. “We could’ve lost you both, and it would’ve been my fault.”
“What? Alessio, no—”
“I couldn’t find him, Shep.” Those dark eyes were wide and pained. “You all depend on me with your lives, and I couldn’t fucking crack it. Couldn’t find him until it was almost too late.”
“It was an impossible task, but somehow you got there. You did that. No one’s all-powerful, but fuck, man, you’re pretty goddamn close.”
Alessio turned away, running his hand through his dark, wavy hair that was down and hanging loose at his shoulders.
He’d always been a built guy, with biceps that could smash a watermelon on a curl, but I could tell he’d lost some weight with the way his usually fitted t-shirt sat a little loose and his jeans hung low on his hips.
“I let you all down,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for that.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. But maybe hearing that from someone other than me would help you accept that.”
Alessio’s shoulders stiffened. “No.”
“I get it,” I said, moving a little closer. “Confession isn’t exactly my idea of a good time either, but when I missed it last month, I realized how important it was to me. Especially with what we do. I would’ve given anything out there in that jungle to have Father Vitale to talk to—”
“Yeah, well, that’s you,” Alessio snapped. “The last thing I need right now is his lofty judgment.”
He turned and reached for the bottle of whiskey on his desk, and when he pulled the cork and brought it to his lips, forgoing a glass, I knew things were much worse than I’d suspected.
One of Alessio’s hard and fast rules for us was a visit with the reverend once a month. It had always been non-negotiable. But this would now be the second time he skipped out on his own mandate if what King said was true, and the added hostility in his tone and stance told me the same story.
“I hardly think he’d judge you. The whole reason for confession is to allow you to unburden yourself to one who is there to offer guidance.”
“I don’t want his fucking guidance.”
“Okay, but maybe you need it.”
Alessio aimed a fulminating look in my direction, and that was when I decided to pull out the only other weapon in my arsenal—guilt.
“How many times have you made one of us go and speak to the father when we didn’t want to? And in the end you were always right. He always makes us feel better.”
“Yeah? Well, what makes one person feel good can drive another to drink.” He swung the bottle between his fingers, and quick as a snake I whipped it out of his hand and reached for the cork.
“You’re coming with us,” I told him. “Even if I have to drag you there myself.”
It was that exact moment Theo stuck his head inside the office. “You two ready to head to Father Vitale’s?”
“I’m not going,” Alessio said, at the same time I answered, “We were just on our way.”
Theo’s eyes shifted between the two of us. “Okay, well, we’re heading out in five.”
I nodded, offering him a tight smile, and he immediately understood to give us space. I was close to a breakthrough, I could feel it. But if I had to get a couple of the others to help me drag Alessio’s ass to church, I would.
“Look, Theo and King have been through a lot the past month, me and you also. I think it would be a good show of faith if you could find it in yourself to come with us tonight. Brothers, blood, family. We need this.”
Yeah, so what? I never said I’d play fair.
“Faith requires belief.” Alessio shoved his hands into his pockets and looked toward his computers before muttering, “I don’t believe in anything anymore.”
Fuck. This was bad. I’d never seen Alessio like this, but I just knew if I could get him in front of Father Vitale—
“Come on,” I said, and stepped to the side of the doorway. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
Alessio peered at me through the dark strands of his hair. “You’re not going to drop this, are you?”
“I mean, you either come with us or I bring him here to you.”
His eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
Apparently the idea of the reverend in his space was more of a threat than our dragging him to the man kicking and screaming.
“Your choice.”
He let out a muttered curse and stormed over to where I stood.
“I hate you right now.”
I shrugged. “I’m okay with that.”
If his hating me got him out of his lair and in front of the reverend for even a few minutes, at least I’d feel as though I’d helped him in some way toward a path of forgiveness.