“Two Ivies? Holy shit. You’re incredible.” I stand on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “But why didn’t you tell me? Do you think going so far away for college is a good idea right now?”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d react like that,” he frowns. “Because you’re too fixated on Nero to see the bigger picture. That this is good for us.”
“That’s not fair.” I shove my hands in my blazer pockets. “It’s my job to fixate on Nero. There won’t be a bigger picture if he slaughters us all, or if Cali kills me in my sleep. Is this even whatyouwant? Wasn’t being a lawyer your dad’s dream?”
“Dad wanted me to take over the family business. I don’t know what I want. That’s why I’m going to this meeting – to see if it helps me make up my mind.” Eli touches his finger to his wrist, where his August family tattoo is. “It doesn’t change anything.”
But it changes everything. And we both know it.
Eli drops his hands back to his sides. “I have to go.”
I watch my Golden Boy walk away from me. And for the first time, I don’t go after him.
35
Eli
From across the courtroom, Nero nods to me, his eyes sparkling. Beside him, my mother squirms uncomfortably in her seat.
As the hearing commences, I’m a ball of nerves. I hardly hear a word the lawyers say. All I can do is stare at my father at the defense table. He looks so different from the broken man I’d visited behind bars – his hair is slicked back, his suit is immaculate, and there’s a little of his famous showman’s swagger about him.
Walter Hart has to give the performance of his life today, and he’s ready for showtime.
I watch every twitch of his eye muscles, every shuffle of his papers, waiting for the clue that will give me answers.How did you get mixed up in this, Dad? What the fuck is Nero doing?
I'm so busy watching him that I don't hear a word of the trial. Even Nero’s testimony – a rousing speech about my father being a victim of an unscrupulous man named Constantine Dio – is swallowed by the hole in my heart. The only thing that breaks through is Claws jabbing me in the gut with her sharp elbow.
We haven’t talked about Berkeley, or my other college acceptances, since that day at school two weeks ago. She gave me a cake from a local bakery decorated with the three college mascots and a ‘bloody knife’ dipped in strawberry coulis stabbing the center. “To help you decide,” she grinned, licking icing off her finger.
I don’t want to tell her that every time I get close to a decision, I can’t pull the plug. Every answer is a betrayal of her.
I turn to Claws just in time to hear the judge utter the words.
“—free to go.”
There’s movement in the courtroom – harsh whispers, cries of shock and outrage. My father grinning his showman’s grin. I tug Claws’ sleeve. “Wait, what did he just say?”
“Weren’t you listening? Didn't you hear Nero blame every aspect of the body brokering business on Constantine Dio?" She knits her fingers in mine. "Your father is free.”
“What?”
That's impossible. He can't be free. He's guilty. Hedidthis.
“His conviction is overturned with the court’s apologies. I don’t entirely understand the reasoning, but I don’t think it matters.” Claudia glances across the room. “I think we all know who’s behind this.”
Nero flashes us a wave and a dazzling smile. I ball my hands into fists, longing to punch that smile off his face but knowing he’s untouchable.
“Why does he give a shit about my family?” I repeat the same question we’ve asked ourselves a hundred times already. “He can’t possibly think Dad will be some kind of asset.”
“I don’t know what he thinks, but you’d better get over there before you become the lead story in tomorrow's paper.”
I don’t want to be anywhere near Dad, but Claudia’s right. If I don’t get over there, my snubbing of my father will be all over the papers, and things will get worse. My feet carry me onto the steps of the courthouse, where my father waits with a shit-eating grin on his pale face. "This is a good day for justice," he says to the cameras, pointing to the flag pin on his lapel. "I'm proud to be an American citizen, knowing that the truth will win out in the end."
Nero hovers beside him, his fat fingers sliding over his lapels. My mother threads her arm through Dad’s, but she only has eyes for Nero Lucian.
I step over to the group. I’m not in control of my body. I’m back on the sofa in the media room at Malloy Manor, stuffing popcorn in my mouth as I watch the film of this horrific moment playing out in HD.
Cameras snap as Dad wraps his arms around me. “I’m back, son.”
