“Move on?” I whisper. “Fuckin’ move on?” I repeat. The albums are thrown across the room and I’m on my feet before my brain catches up. I don’t recall moving but a vase smashes against the wall, shattering to the floor. The water drenching the carpet and the flowers lying limply.
“Move on!” I roar, pointing my finger at him. “How fuckin’ dare you!”
The lamp is next to fly across the room, shrouding the room in darkness until Leo slams the main light on.
“You’ll have to face Mom if you keep breaking her shit,” Luca grunts.
Ignoring him, I stare down my eldest son.
“You wanna move on, yeah?”
“Dad...”
“Nah, you wanna move on after you got brothers killed in our fuckin’ club. What the fuck does that look like, son? Tell me!” Tears flow and I couldn’t give a shit, but fuck me, it feels good to unload the thoughts taking root in my head.
“You wanna know the truth, I do blame you. I blame you because their deaths were because you went on the attack! I warned you but you knew better!”
“Fuck you!”
“No, fuck you! Traitors are one thing, but you gave him the opportunity to take something to our enemy!”
“That’s not fair, Dad,” Luca snaps.
“Fair? Nothing's fuckin’ fair, ain’t I always taught you that?”
“Yeah, but...”
“There are no buts!”
Grabbing the coffee table, I flip it over and square up to Leo.
“This is something you have to live with, but you don’t even care, do ya?”
His brows pinch together as he asks, “Is that what you think?”
“What’s going on?” Lana cries rushing in to stand between us.
“It’s my fault Slade is dead, Dad is finally getting it off of his chest,” Leo tells her.
She frowns and looks to me to tell her he’s got it wrong, but I can’t.
“I warned him what the fall out could be, but he still went ahead thinkin’ he knew best!”
“It’s my fuckin’ job to do what I think is best for this club, that’s what you passed down to me!” Leo yells.
“He’s got a point, old man,” Luca chimes in and I narrow my eyes.
Alannah turns on him and tells him, “Stay out of this, Luc.”
Rolling his eyes, he sits back down and rolls a cigarette between his fingers.
“Cas, you know Leo is right. What happened to Slade could have happened at any point when you were president.”
“It didn’t though, did it,” I say coldly.
“You know what?” Leo huffs. “I ain’t gonna keep repeating myself, my plan was good, and you know it!”
Alannah turns to Leo, and instructs, “Go home.” She whips around and tells Luca, “You, too. Go home. We'll talk in the morning and sort this out.”
