“Charlie said Lennox gives his allowance money to him so he won’t be so sick all the time.”
Ian grunted in disgust. “That’s…”
“Yeah. But what can anyone do? He’s a kid, apparently a kind, generous one.”
“Reminds me of when you were a boy,” Arthur said quietly.
“Unlike Jimmy,” Ian’s voice was even quieter. He took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Look, once I’m gone, the only way this ends is with one of you gone. Either you take over and he’ll come after you, or he does and you have to live with whatever he brings into this town.”
“I know.” Quinn looked at Ian. “I can’t have Charlie and Lennox here, no matter what happens.” Or Aaron, but he couldn’t say that. “And if I live and watch Jimmy do his thing, I’ll never be his true ally.”
“No, you won’t,” Arthur agreed. “You used to be friends because you had to be. Only blood cousins in the clan. But you’re very different.”
“With the reputation you have, you could hold your own, but I’m not sure I want to put you through that,” Ian said, then coughed and kept doing it for a minute or two. In the end, he was red in the face and panting, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I fucking hate this disease,” he spat out the words.
“Yeah.” Quinn hated it too. He hated that it took good people like Aaron’s mother, and fucked up the whole town like in Ian’s case. He knew Uncle Ian had blood on his hands, just like Quinn himself did, just not in this town, yet.
The front door opened, and Arthur rolled his eyes. Quinn turned his head and saw Sheriff Henderson walk in.
The man went to the bar and got himself a coffee from the bored girl behind the counter, and then ambled over to sit at the table across from the booth.
“Morning,” Sheriff Henderson said, smirking a little.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” Ian said in a pointedly neutral tone.
Arthur nodded but said nothing.
Quinn felt like this was a frequent occurrence. Then Henderson aimed his piercing gaze at Quinn.
“Quinn MacGregor. Haven’t seen you in town in a while,” he said in a conversational tone.
“That might be because I haven’t been back since my father was put away for killing your predecessor,” Quinn said in the same exact tone.
Arthur snorted.
Henderson’s face turned to stone. For a moment, Quinn thought he’d make the “I’m keeping an eye on you” gesture, but instead, he drank his coffee in silence.
“So, are you coming over for dinner tonight?” Ian asked Quinn, ignoring the sheriff completely.
“Might as well. I need to get some groceries and more cat food, maybe another bouquet for Aunt Karen,” Quinn joked, making his uncles laugh.
Sheriff Henderson couldn’t hide the way his attention turned to them.
“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Quinn said lightly. “It’s not code for drugs. It means a bottle of wine.” He slid out of the booth and shook Arthur’s hand. “I’ll see you around, unless you’re coming to dinner too?”
“No, I promised the missus I’ll take her to Vegas for the weekend. Something about seeing a show.” Arthur pretended like he wasn’t tickled to be going with his wife. Quinn saw the moment when he realized what him being out of town might mean if the rumors about the club changed for the worse during the weekend.
“You go and have fun, Arthur,” Ian said firmly, clearly following the train of thought.
Arthur nodded a bit stiffly. “Alright. We’ll be back on Sunday afternoon.”
“Just after the church lets out,” Quinn teased, and made both of the men laugh again.
“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur replied, rolling his eyes.
None of the MacGregors had been avid churchgoers after Quinn’s grandpa and most of his men had passed away. It was an ongoing joke that they didn’t go to church even though most of the crew would’ve needed to confess every now and then.
“Alright, well, I’m off. I’ll talk to you later.”
