My father’s voice is warm and relieved, even though it sounds like their night was as rough as ours.
“Thank you, Papa.” I wince as the medic puts in a couple of stitches on the graze on the back of my neck. I knew it just nicked me. My face, neck, and arms are peppered with little cuts from the rock chips, but none are too serious. “How many men did we- you lose?”
“Eleven,” he says, low and vicious. “We took captives. Your brother is already starting in on them.”
I cringe a bit. Gavinreallyenjoys this part of his work. “That shouldn’t take long to get answers, then. Did you get hurt, Papa?”
“Just one bullet through my leg,” he says indifferently. “It went right through, they didn’t even have to dig it out.”
“May I?”
Cormac Senior is standing next to me, his hand outstretched. I know he was personally responsible for taking out an armored jeep that tried to smash its way through the front gates. He’s still covered in soot and sporting a bandage and a sling on his right arm.
“Hang on Papa, just for a moment?”
“Aye, love.”
Cormac Senior smiles at me. “I believe this feud has gone on long enough, my dear. Will ya’ let me speak to Bruce?”
“He’s going to call you a lot of terrible things,” I whisper, gnawing my lip anxiously.
“Most likely,” he nods.
Unmuting the phone, I take a deep breath. “Papa, I am asking you to do something for me. Please say you will.”
His dear voice… he sounds so concerned. “Of course, are ye’ worse off than I know?”
“No Papa. Someone here wants to speak to ya.’ Please, I’m beggin’ ya’ not to hang up, alright?” Without waiting for his answer, I hand the phone to Cormac Senior and brace for the incoming stream of invectives.
“Bruce.”
I can hear my father shouting, even with the phone pressed to Cormac Senior’s ear. He doesn’t hang up, listening calmly to Papa’s insults until he wears down a little.
“Isn’t it time we spoke, you and I? It’s been nearly forty years. With my son and your daughter married, perhaps it’s time we made peace with each other.”
Cormac Senior may be in his late sixties - like my father - but he’s a strong, hearty man. Right now though, he looks ten years older, exhausted.
Papa’s response isn’t clear, Cormac Senior nods and says, “I’ll be here when you’re ready to speak.”
Taking the phone back from him, I see that my father’s already hung up. “I’m sorry,” I offer. “Forty years is a long time.”
“Aye,” he agrees, running his hand over his forehead. “I know what happened with you and my son was not what anyone could have anticipated. I believe, though, that you two could be the remaking of our families. Of something better.”
Gingerly patting his hand, I smile. “I hope so, too. This has gone on for too long. My brother Gavin would welcome a change, I think, once he understood what happened.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Dougal walks over, giving his father a pat on the shoulder, and they do that manly thing of gripping forearms to indicate extra emotion.
“How do you feel, love?” Dougal asks, kissing me carefully, since there’s a little cut on my lower lip from a flying rock chip.
“Grand,” I lie, but aches and pains are to be expected. “Gavin’s started in on the men the Blackwoods caught. How many hostages did you get here on the grounds?”
“Five,” he says, “and we’ve identified two of them already. They’re lieutenants in theMuñoz Cartel.”
“Them,”I hiss. “Luis Muñoz has been tryin’ to move in on Blackwood business for the last year. Papa was ready to bury him. So he must have thought if he turned our clans against each other, we’d do all the work and he’d swoop in and grab the goods.”
“We’re already searching for him,” he says, “the chicken-hearted bastard wasn’t here at the estate for the attack or at the construction site.”
