Chapter 7
W ith the weight of Colin’s confession hanging in the air, we work in silence to rebind, gag, and secure him before making our way outside.
This is the absolute last thing I need right now.
I’d already been working on the best way to make it clear, under no uncertain terms, that the Four Points would be staying in the family.
With Billy being Da’s second, he stood to be my biggest obstacle or biggest supporter.
Guess we know which way he’s leaning now.
There’s no way in hell I’m letting him take over.
I’ve been raised for this my whole life, sacrificed more than most. I’m not letting that be in vain.
“What now?” Ciaran muses, lighting a cigarette as we exit the building
Wrinkling my nose at the offensive smell, I grouse, “That shit will kill you.”
“I’m more likely to die on the job,” he rebukes with a roll of his eyes as he props a foot up on the bumper of his car. Conceding his point, I let it drop.
“I need to schedule a meeting with Billy and iron this shit out. But first, I need to pay a visit to Da’s house.
Someone needs to make sure Sheila has everything under control,” I answer his original question, leaving out that I also want to see how Da’s doing with my own eyes and up his security measures.
“Need backup?”
“Not yet. Head back to Dec and continue vetting the new recruits. I’ll link in with you later.
” With little more than a dip of his chin, he watches me leave.
It’s getting clearer by the day. I need to nip this rising discontent in the bud before things get out of control.
At face value, it should be simple: a few beat downs, a show of power or two.
But when you factor in keeping the legal front running and the sixty hours a week that takes, it’s not quite so straight forward.
And of course, the timing of everything had to coincide with my EA problem.
Fucking typical. God forbid I catch a break.
Pulling up in front of my childhood home, I push thoughts of things I can’t change for now to the side. Even on his sick bed, Da is all too likely to pick up on it, and stress is the last thing he needs right now.
Growing up, this place always felt like a safe haven from the madness outside these walls.
Da was adamant about keeping our home life as separate from everything as possible.
But now, everything feels cold and hollow.
Lifeless. Still in a way it never was. When I call out for Sheila, only silence greets me.
Frowning, I head up to Da’s room, wondering where she is.
My question is soon answered when I spy Sheila sleeping, a book in her lap, at his bedside as he watches her with a soft look on his face.
Looks like the old man still has a soft spot for her after all these years.
I used to wonder why he never made a move, but as age opened my eyes to what goes bump in the night, that question answered itself.
“Son,” he rasps before letting out a rickety cough, startling Sheila awake. Seeing me standing in the doorway, she jumps up. A blush heats her cheeks as she stumbles through her excuses before brushing past me and leaving us .
Walking over to take her place, I tease him, “Better be careful, old man. Sheila has the hots for you.”
“Stop talking out of your ass and get over here,” he grumbles with a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes at me.
“Ah, I see. You’re still living in denial.” Flipping the chair around, I straddle it, hanging my forearms off the sturdy wooden back while I take him in. He’s lost more weight, and that cough still doesn’t sound good, but there’s more life in his eyes than there has been.
“Why are you here? Or is your sole purpose in life to test me?”
“I came to see how you are, if you must know.”
“I’ve told you, I’m fine.” His statement would be a lot more convincing if he didn’t have to stop to cough into his handkerchief. We both avert our eyes, pretending not to notice it’s stained red now.
“Come on, Da. Stop bullshitting me. I’m on your side.
I’m doing everything I can to keep this ship sailing but I need you to be honest with me, or it’s never going to work.
” I sigh, bracing my elbows on the back of the chair and running a hand over my jaw.
Frowning at the stubble that scratches my palm, I make a note to shave later.
Taking pity on me, he sighs. “I’m as fine as I can be. There’re bad days, but there are also good days, son. Sheila is taking good care of me. You’ll look out for her for me, won’t you?”
“Of course. She’s family. But you’re going nowhere, okay? You need to help sort out this mess before you get to skip out on your responsibilities,” I joke, drawing a dry laugh from him before he turns serious on me.
“When you get to my age, son, you’ll realise it’s the little things that are the most important, not power or money. Promise me you’ll give some thought to finding a nice girl one day? I want you to be happy; to know the comfort only a woman can bring to your life.”
“Da...” I trail off. We’ve had this same tired argument time and time again. I’m no closer to changing my mind than I was the last time he tried to persuade me.
“Johnny. I know you’re young now, but you won’t always be. Just humour an old man, will you? Please.” Hearing my Da, the Boss of the Irish Mafia, utter a plea is so out of the ordinary, I’m helpless but to dip my chin as my walls crumble a little under his insistence.
“Okay, fine, I’ll think about it…if you think about making that will before you can’t,” I implore, only for him to wave me off like he did the last time I brought this up. Stubborn fucker. And he wonders where I get it from.
“Da, I’m serious. If you don’t, who knows what will happen to the Four Points?” I toss out there, hoping the mention of his pride and joy will make him see the severity of things.
“What do you mean, what will happen? It’ll stay within the family, as it should.
This is the family business, son. Why the hell do you think I’ve had you shadowing me since you could walk and talk, huh?
” he snaps, looking more like himself than he has in months.
There’s fire in his eyes, as if he’s ready to leap out of the bed and into action at a moment’s notice. Fuck, how I’d kill to see him do so.
“I know that, but they don’t. And we both know they won’t take my word for it,” I tell him, the same old argument we’ve had on and off for years now. Da’s always been a stickler for the old ways, even as the rest of the Points has moved into the twentieth century.
“Then you fight for it. You grab it by the bloody throat and make it yours. This is the fucking mafia, son, and you’ll do it the mafia way. None of this legal shit.” He sniffs, shifting against his pillows and looking one wrong move away from launching into a lecture.
“Humour me. Write it up, but I’ll still do you proud and fight for it.
Deal? It’s about time Billy was knocked down a peg or two anyway.
” At his reluctant nod and dropping eyes, I tell him I’ll get the lawyer out here tomorrow and leave him to give into the tiredness he’s no doubt been fighting.
When I catch Sheila in the hall, she offers me a tentative smile, which I return by pulling her in for a quick hug before making my exit.
Cracking my neck, I let out a sigh before once again hitting the road—this time on my way to a sit down with Billy Hayes. No time like the present to put him in his place, and what better place to do it than at O’Neill’s, my very own pride and joy?
As I’m led into through the doors to the VIP area, I mentally prepare myself for the war of wits that’s bound to be waiting for me.
By design, I’m first to arrive, so, taking my seat, I order a bottle of McCallen twenty-five for the table and two glasses while waiting for my guest to show up.
Billy has been at my Da’s side since before I was born, but that doesn’t give him any right to send his son snooping, to challenge my father’s orders, or to question me.
It’s my job to remind him of that tonight.
Whether he likes it or not doesn’t matter.
People like him can be replaced in a heartbeat if necessary.
It’s about time he learnt just how replaceable he is.
Ten minutes later, five minutes late to our impromptu meeting, Billy strides in, puffing out his chest and acting like he owns the place. Funny—I don’t see his name on the door.
“Nice of you to join me.” I nod to the chair in front of me for him to take a seat. He doesn’t deserve a respectful greeting. Maybe if he was on time, but then again, after today, probably not even then.
“What can I do for you?” he asks, leaning back in his seat and helping himself to the whiskey between us without so much as asking or offering me a top up. Rude bastard.
“It’s funny you should ask. You’ll never believe who I crossed paths with today,” I muse, catching the waitress’ eye as she makes to approach the table. With a subtle shake of my head, she turns and leaves us.
“It wouldn’t be your father, would it? I’ve been meaning to give him a call. He must need my help with whatever is keeping him so occupied.” Not bloody likely.
“Oh no, much closer to home. Your home, at that. Say, I wasn’t aware your son had joined our ranks,” I muse, watching him freeze for a split second before he launches into his lies.
“My Colin? Well, not yet, but as soon as he’s eighteen, I’ll be putting him forward. He’s an excellent shot already. Taught him myself. He’ll make a great addition to our ranks,” he blusters, a bead of sweat forming at his temples that he dabs away.
“That’s odd. If he’s not one of us, then how come he was found outside my father’s house today?” I drawl, watching the colour leave his face as his eyes frantically scan the room. If he’s looking for an escape, he won’t find one, nor will he find any lies to feed me.
“You know, now that I think about it…Colin has recently joined. You know what it’s like to keep track of who’s doing what. I’ll talk to him, see why he was there. Don’t you worry—I’ll get to the bottom of this.” He laughs, adjusting his shirt collar and avoiding my eyes.
“I imagine that might be rather difficult,” I drawl, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth as I draw a circle on the table in the ring of condensation from my glass.
“What…what do you mean?” He dabs at the sweat beading along his forehead again, flicking his eyes between me and the room behind me.
“Well, you see, as you are aware, we don’t take trespassers lightly.
Or rats. Things like that need to be delt with swiftly.
I’m sure you understand.” Emotions fly across his face: confusion, horror, fear, disbelief before he tries and fails to school his features into something a mask of cool disinterest.
“You don’t mean…” He trails off, as if not speaking it into existence can change things.
“I fear I do. Your Colin is in the Pit and will remain there until I’m sure you can be trusted.
If you can be trusted. Now, care to confess why you sent him snooping?
That’s right—he squealed like a little pig.
It only took three removed fingers.” God, I wish I could tape this moment. Ciaran would love it.
“Why, you little-” He tries to lunge across the table for me, sending the perfectly good whiskey flying. But before he can wrap his hand around my throat, I twist his wrist behind his back, leaning closer to snarl, “I can, and I did. Now, confess your sins, William, or your son will pay for them.”
Releasing him, I watch as he falls to a puddle on the floor. Brushing himself off, he stands and glares at me as he sneers, “You’re not the boss and never will be, you little shit. Now, get Senior on the phone so the real men can talk.”
“I wish you could stick around long enough to eat your words, but I fear that won’t be possible,” I muse, clicking my fingers. In a split-second, Seamus comes strolling out of the shadows with Jack and Brennan in tow.
“Why don’t we reunite you with your son for now?
There’s plenty room in the Pit for one more,” I taunt as we make quick work of binding him and carrying him out a back entrance and throw him into the boot of the waiting SUV.
His protests and smack talk fall on deaf ears.
He’s a bigger idiot than I gave him credit for if he thought he could take my Da’s position, my birthright, right out from under our noses.