Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“What do you mean?”
He waited to respond until we were outside, and he walked a few paces to get away from the smokers near the entrance.
“You know about Liam, I take it,” he said.
“Most of the higher-ups have their own Wikipedia pages. What do you think?”
He chuckled. “Right. You’ve heard about Alec and Nessa too, then?”
Not from Wikipedia but from Kellan himself.
“I know who they are.” Liam’s younger siblings. Not mine.
He nodded once and pulled out his phone. “Well, Alec pulled some shit in an attempt to impress Finn and Liam, and now he’s gonna serve five years for it.”
“Jesus. You really do recruit ’em young.”
He snorted as he texted someone. “He’s over eighteen, and nobody needed to recruit that little gobshite. He’s been itching to be initiated since he was thirteen.” He peered down the busy street and squinted at something. “My ride’s here.” He glanced back at me. “Cancel my ten forty-five, yeah? Reschedule to next week.”
“No problem. But are we good?” I had to know.
He smirked and clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re the right person to come forward as one of presumably dozens of John’s side-piece kids. My hope is to get you a better position, and I think Finn will agree with me. Our syndicate is at peace for the first time in decades, and we won’t waste that. You’re an asset, mate.”
Fuck, that was a relief. I took a deep breath and nodded.
Maybe this could work out after all.
An SUV pulled up, and I spotted Max behind the wheel. How long had he been circling since Kellan told him to take a break?
“I’ll call you tomorrow or on Sunday,” Kellan repeated and opened the door. “We’re heading out to Finn’s for breakfast tomorrow, so depending on if I get him alone or not…”
“Okay. As long as I don’t wake up with cement shoes at some point. My kids kinda like me.”
He laughed and got in the car. “You think so little of us and still wanna get more involved?”
A step or two. I’d never be initiated. I had a feeling I knew what that entailed. Same level of terrible as littering.
CHAPTER 2
Alfie Scott
Kellan didn’t call on Saturday, so I had to distract myself some other way. I mean, I assumed he wasn’t gonna call. It was past lunch, and he’d mentioned they were going out to Finn’s for breakfast. How long could a breakfast last?
I spent an hour throwing out clothes I’d never wear again. I needed some nicer pants and a few shirts, and two outfits suitable for church, and that was it. The rest could go. Leaving me with the freedom of jeans, cargo shorts, tees, Henleys, and hoodies. Much better.
Workout clothes too. I pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and grabbed a tee, and then I went out for a run.
AirPods inserted, I went to scroll a playlist or two when I noticed I had several messages from West. Honestly, I sucked at checking my phone, and I mostly kept track on my work phone when I didn’t have the kids.
Fuck my life.
I stood right there on the stoop in the blistering heat and reluctantly opened the messages.
Call me, goddammit. You’re acting like a child.
We need to discuss this as a team. We are always parents first.
The last message had come in this morning, but judging by the ranty attitude—rantytude, if you will—one might’ve guessed West had written it drunk. Or the rant had built up overnight, and he’d let it all out.
I don’t understand you, Alfie. How can you possibly be upset about my moving on when you moved on two years ago? You never share a damn thing about your life. You won’t let me pick up Trip and Ellie at your place. You always insist on dropping them off as well as picking them up. I got your address from Trip’s teacher, for chrissakes. I had to look it up myself. Because do you know what you told me when you moved? “Oh, it’s just a small place in Center City, but the kids like it, so I’m happy.”
I had no reason to question you, and I can’t say I was curious enough because I assumed I’d see it sooner rather than later. But over the years, the children have dropped enough comments to make me understand that you keep a whole lot from me. Your job, for instance? You say you’re a consultant at a security company. What the hell do you know about security? You don’t have a degree. You bartend sometimes to make extra money—where? Who are your friends? What do you do in your spare time?
You became a brick wall when we split up. Then yesterday, you cursed me out like I’d committed a crime. It was like you became the guy I got to know all those years ago. What the hell happened?