“Any idea what it is?” I ask. I know this is leading somewhere. I just wish he’d get to the point.
“Not yet, but my Spidey senses started pinging when they saw a couple of your uncle’s men hanging around there.”
“Yeah. That’s definitely fishy. Fucker rules with an iron fist. If his guys are there, it’s on his instruction.”
What the fuck is the old goat up to?
“Then yesterday, just after the shit went down with your dad, someone saw your uncle’s car parked outside for hours. My guy just called me up to say he saw it pull up again.”
I’m alert now, ready to get moving.
“So… Got any plans for the morning?” my father-in-law asks. I glance over my shoulder into the room where my wife lies sleeping. She’ll be out for hours if last night’s activity is anything to go by. We barely slept. The woman’s insatiable.
So am I when it comes to her.
“I think I can get away for a bit,” I say, moving silently toward the shower.
“I’ll be at your front entrance in thirty.” McErlane ends the call before I can respond. Again, no goodbyes. No “have a nice day.” He’s just like fucking Dario. I shake my head and chuckle as I get ready to meet him. And I’m not surprised when exactly thirty minutes later, the intercom buzzes. When I get downstairs to the entrance of the building, a metallic green Lexus SUV is idling outside with its back passenger door open.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter as I slide onto the seat beside him.
“What?” he asks.
“Green?” I shake my head. “You don’t believe in going in undercover?”
“Fuck off. I’m Irish,” he says. “How’s Emma?”
“She’s golden,” I reply. And I mean it. My golden girl. Thinking of her lying up in that bed all alone almost has me clambering right out of this fucking St. Patrick-mobile.
“She’d better be,” says McErlane. “That’s my little girl you got there.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “A little girl you were ready to sell off to a corrupt senator,” I remind him. He has the good grace to look away.
“I was a daft cunt,” he mumbles, and it reminds me of her. The woman got her father’s foul mouth, that’s for sure. “After her Ma left us…” He clears his throat, then looks up at me. If this was a different man, I’m pretty sure his eyes would be misting. “That woman was my queen,” he says hoarsely. “I’ll never forgive myself for letting her down.”
“From what Emma says, it was out of your hands.”
“I should have been paying attention.” He looks down at where his fists rest on his thighs, knuckles white. “So busy doin’ deals. Makin’ money. Waitin’ for my motherfuckin’heirto arrive.” He shakes his head. “And all the while, my precious woman was headin’ closer to her Maker.”
I resist the urge to pat his shoulder, though I sense he wouldn’t object to the gesture. There’s something different about this man than I’m used to. Not like the “made men” I grew up with. He’s hard; there’s no doubt of it. But he has heart. And it’s probably as big as his daughter’s. Lion-sized.
“You still have Emma,” I remind him.
“Oh, she’s yours now, son,” he says.
I chuckle. “Tommy, that woman doesn’t belong to anyone.”
He laughs back. “Aye, there’s the truth, eh?” His eyes are warm when he looks up at me. The same blue as hers. “It’s my fault she’s hard like that, ya know? I couldn’t let myself close to her…so much like her Ma. My distance made her brittle. Don’t be holdin’ that against her.”
“Actually, it’s one of the things I like about her.”
One of many.
“You do, do ya?” He smiles. “She’s a firecracker, all right.”
“And tougher than many men I’ve ever known. Did she tell you how we met?”
“Not a word,” he says, though he glances at me strangely as he says it.
