Sloan smirked at me, and I gave him an uncertain smile, and then his pet leaned in closer to Sloan and I took a moment to appreciate their unity. Usually Sloan had Daire, his right-hand man, here with him, but the fact that Conall was at his side instead spoke volumes about the trust between them.
“Should we start by wetting our whistles?” Orlaith asked, waving his hand toward a small drink cart Ric kept in his office for these sorts of meetings. I knew for a fact he had vodka, rum, and whiskey sitting there, and it took all my effort not to walk over and fill a glass. Temptation was a never-ending battle I fought with every day. “Gian?”
I shook my head.
Orlaith laughed. “What happened to you, my friend?”
He knew what had happened, but to men like him one accidental murder meant nothing. They didn’t care that an innocent person had died, and any mention of my dreams of God was mocked as nothing more than a drug trip. I often heard it was from the painkillers, and it might’ve been, but I still considered that a message I’d been on the wrong path.
Ric clapped his hands together where he sat beside me and grinned. “Shall we talk about the Mexicans?”
Orlaith snorted, but he was the only one who reacted. I didn’t know which Mexicans Ric meant—I’d been out of the business too long—but I noticed the strain on each face in the room, so I had to assume they were trouble, whoever they were.
“We should kill Reyes,” Orlaith said, stretching his arms out along the back of the couch. He saw me looking at him and winked, the cockiness making me shake my head. He definitely hadn’t changed.
“If it was that easy we would’ve done it already.” Sloan raised his dark eyebrows at Orlaith. “You cut off the head and another one will grow back. He has family who can take over the cartel.”
“They might be more willing to be owned by us,” Elio said from his spot, and Matteo nodded in agreement. “It’s a lot easier to make money when you’re not in a constant struggle. I’m not sure why Reyes won’t play ball.”
“We need to figure out something because they’re interfering with getting our drugs through the Texas border.” Orlaith grunted in frustration. “Between them and the fucking governor, we’ve had a never-ending pain in the ass this past year.”
I tuned them out. Ric had asked me to sit in, but he never said anything about listening to what they had to say or having input.
The meeting went on for too long, and by the time they finished, I would now be late to pick up Phoenix. I’d promised him I’d be there when his group session finished, but I hadn’t been, and as much as I wanted to rush out, I said my proper goodbyes, shaking hands with each of them.
“You still have my number? Call me so we can meet up like old times.” Orlaith winked, and all I could do was give him a fake smile. That life was over, but a man like him would never understand.
I agreed anyway, and by the time they’d all left, I barely said goodbye to Ric as I got into Jericho’s car and headed out.
It took too long to get to the clinic, and when I arrived, I was panicking and annoyed at my cousin for asking me to sit in the meeting with him. Jericho met me at the front of the building, mouth pursed.
“Where have you been?” His brows dipped in frustration. “The session finished half an hour ago, and Phoenix is beside himselfbecauseyou told him you would be here when he was done. Otherwise, he would’ve been fine!”
I winced. “I know, I’m sorry. I—”
He held up his hand. “I’m not interested. Go to your boy because he deserves the explanations, not me.” He shifted out of the way and waved at the door, and all I could do was sigh as I walked into the building and to the right toward the room where they held the group sessions.
When I entered it was quiet and dark, and I frowned around the empty space until I spotted Phoenix. He sat in the corner of the room, curled up in a ball and shaking. I walked closer, and it took a moment for him to notice me. When his gaze clashed with mine he stared at me with wide, wet eyes and shot to his feet. Much to my surprise, he stalked toward me and slammed his fist against my chest, making me stumble back from the shock. He didn’t stop, though, following me to shove at my chest. His flushed cheeks were stained with tear tracks, and his bottom lip swollen as though he’d been chewing on it.
“Boy—”
He shoved me again and this time I crashed into one of the wooden chairs they used for the meetings. I managed to catch my balance and stay on my feet.
“Where were you?” he screamed in a way I’d never heard from him, and shock vibrated through my body as I stared at him.
More tears tracked down his face, and he wrapped his arms around his middle, shoulders trembling. “Where were you, Gian?”
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard him say my name instead of Daddy—or Father—but he’d never done it while we were fighting, and I didn’t like it, not one bit.
He wasn’t done, though. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “You promised me you’d be here when the meeting ended, and you weren’t here. Youweren’there. I thought... I thought....”
He let out a sob, and I rushed forward, wrapping him in my arms. He fought me for a short moment, then relented, letting me bring him closer until his face was buried against my chest. He cried—maybe cried wasn’t the right word; he wept—and the pure anguish in his tears had my heart throbbing in pain.
“I’m sorry, boy. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here.”
“I thought you abandoned me,” he cried out, slapping his hand against my chest, right near his face. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
I held him as tightly as I could and kissed his temple. “Never. I want you, boy. You’re mine, I love you.”
