I sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I think. Which is why I think there’s time to get Elle and her family out of this.”
The hardness was back in his features. “Come over here, sit down, and listen to me.”
By the time I slid the chair over and sat, I was all worked up again.
Gramps leaned forward with that scowl on his face. “I’m going to tell you right now, you give O’Shea that money and you’re opening up a can of worms you won’t be able to crawl out of. First, it means you’re getting involved in the drug ring, and you know as soon as the DEA sees you on that radar, they’ll be up your ass. And second, I know Patrick. He’s not going to let that debt be settled so easily. Even if it was O’Shea’s wife running things, O’Shea obviously knew about it. Patrick will use him until there’s nothing left and once he’s useless, Patrick will dispose of him.”
Harsh words, and I didn’t want to process them. “But he has a little girl. What if she gets hurt?”
My grandfather shrugged coolly. “Collateral damage never bothered Patrick.”
Furious, I stood back up and began pacing. “And the wife’s sister?”
Again with the cool demeanor. “More than likely, she’ll be dead by association, and anyone else who he’s close with.”
I slammed my hand against the wall.
“Admit it, boy. She’s the one?”
Annoyed, I turned to face him. “The one what?” I barked.
His face creased. “The one that has got your insides twisted all up. Whether you want to admit it to me or not, at least admit it to yourself.”
Sighing, I couldn’t believe I was saying this. “So what if she is?”
He drew in a deep worried breath. “Walk away, Logan,” he almost pleaded.
I crossed the room and stood in front of him. “I’m not doing that.”
Silence filled the space and I could see the harshness in his facial expression fading. Finally he spoke. “That’s what I thought. Tell me, what’s your father’s involvement?”
I brought my temper down a notch as well. “Minimal. He’s just the messenger. Even if Patrick wanted to involve him further, he doesn’t trust him enough.”
Gramps nodded. “That’s good. He won’t get hurt that way.”
He knew I was stronger than my father. After all, he made me that way. Not only in the physical sense, but in my fortitude as well. Gramps hadn’t taught my father the ways of the street. My grandmother wanted her boys to have a different life and he’d agreed. But as time passed, he learned that wasn’t always possible and he worried for me, which is why he took me under his wing. He taught me what he’d neglected to teach my father. That’s why my awareness and resolve was more like a soldier’s, whereas my father was like a new recruit, not entirely brought in.
Unfortunately, my father also used booze as a crutch, and that was a dangerous thing. Then again, having your life turned upside down would do that to a guy. And working with Patrick had done just that to my old man. As soon as he started, my mother found out and demanded I stay in New York full-time and attend school there. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. My father made me go. I wanted him to move there too. He couldn’t, though, and I knew it. So instead, he was forced to lead a life he’d never wanted.
All because of what I’d done when I was fifteen.
I looked at my grandfather and braced myself for the fallout. “I’m going to have to talk to Patrick myself.”
The old man rose so fast, he had me by the shirt collar before I knew what was happening. In a beat, he pushed me back and slammed me against the wall. “You even think about going to see him and I’ll kill you myself.”
I stayed where I was. Shocked that he had that much fight left in him. “What else can I do?”
When he released me, he almost collapsed.
I grabbed him and helped him back to the bed.
Once he was sitting, he said, “Bring that chair over here.”
I again moved the fucking chair.
With my ass on the hard wood, he pulled my face close to his. “Here’s what you’re going to do.”
I listened intently.
Absorbing every word.
The old man knew best.
ELLE
Something wasn’t right.
I pulled into the side driveway of Michael’s corner lot and put my car in park. With a flick of the switch, the interior light turned on and I proceeded to search the floor. It wasn’t there.
My garage door opener was missing, and for some reason the button programmed into the vehicle hadn’t worked in weeks.
Feeling slightly panicky, I opened the glove compartment. It wasn’t there either. Maybe I’d stuffed it in my purse. After all, I did it all the time when I’d take Clementine for walks. I reached for my bag and realized it wasn’t the same purse I’d used this week. That one I’d left behind at the boutique.
Clementine had fallen asleep in her car seat and I wanted to get her in her crib and avoid the cold while doing so.
To be certain the repair shop hadn’t moved it, I lifted the center console lid and rummaged through it.
Something sparkled.
My eyes dipped down and I reached inside. When I picked the charm up, my fingers trembled. Sucking in a breath, I pinched the silver and turned it around. But I didn’t need to. The glistening of the small speck of a diamond was all I needed to see to know for certain. Still, I read the inscription anyway.
It was the charm from the bracelet my sister had given me for my tenth birthday. The same one I threw at her the day she left.
My heart stilled as the memory flooded me and I tried to hold back the tears.
“Happy birthday,” my mother and sister sang as the candles flamed before me.
Just as I was blowing them out, the door swung open and my father strode in. I froze in mid-blow, but the candles went out anyway.
Traitors.
His eyes darted to my mother. “You couldn’t wait?”
“It’s almost ten, Henry, and the girls have school tomorrow.”
He disarmed and left his gun on the counter where he always did. We were living in Germany at the time and since we’d just arrived, we didn’t really know anyone, so we had no one to invite to my party.
Not that we ever would have invited anyone anyway.
“Let’s eat the cake,” he said, more jovial than he’d been in a long time.
My mother smiled at him and started cutting it.
It was strange; I felt like we were a family. That didn’t happen often.
My father moved closer to the table and gave her a kiss. “Did you give Gabby her present?” he asked my mother excitedly.
She sniffed him and twisted her head. “No, not yet. Where have you been?”
His demeanor changed instantly. “I told you, I had a meeting. Now let me give Gabby her present. Where did you hide it?”
My mother looked upset. “It’s in my purse. I’ll get it in a moment.”
As my mother was cutting the cake, my father disappeared into the mudroom, where my mother always hung her purse.
Everything had a place in our house.
My mother gave me the first piece and then turned around to hand my father a slice, but he hadn’t returned yet. I guess she never realized he’d left the room. “Henry?”
“He went to get my present, Mommy,” I said excitedly.
There was a growl-like sound from the mudroom. “Susan!”