“I sat on it for a while, waiting to see if Lizzy showed up.”
“So you weren’t sure she’d actually been taken then?”
He looked annoyed. “She had been taken. I just didn’t know it at the time. I found out later what had actually happened to her after she escaped.”
I still wasn’t buying it. “Okay, so you sat on it. Then what?”
“When I couldn’t take it anymore, I told my old man what I could without cutting my own dick off. I knew once he found that the money used was his, he’d make something happen. But he fucking sat on it forever.”
“Why did he wait?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“Maybe because he wanted to see you squirm?” I taunted.
“Fuck you. He told me it was because he wanted me to handle it, but more than likely it was because he was afraid of stepping on the wrong toes.”
Skeptical, I raised a brow. “Whose wrong toes?”
“Like I said, you don’t have a fucking clue.”
“Then enlighten me. You want my help. Tell me.”
Hatred seethed from his pores. I could practically smell it. “He took his time deciding because he was afraid of starting a war. Word on the street was that his old gang, the Dorchester Heights Gang, was reassembling, and that they were about to step up their game. He was afraid if he got involved in the drug side of things, they’d have reason to go after the Blue Hill Gang.”
Anger rising at his lies, I shouted, “The Dorchester Heights Gang has been out of play for years. Stop bullshitting me.”
“You, your old man, and even the DEA are in the fucking dark. They’ve been gearing up for years and they’re about ready to reemerge bigger and better than they ever were. Probably even stronger than the Blue Hill Gang ever was, even in your grandfather’s day. Rumor has it they have political ties.”
“How the fuck would you know that?”
“Have you not been listening to a goddamn word I’ve told you?”
My mind spun. “The Priest is the mob boss of the Dorchester Heights Gang?”
He gave a huff of laughter. “You’re a smart one.”
Made sense that Patrick would be fearful. Drugs were the most lucrative venue for mob business, and being in that business would put a huge bulls-eye on his back. “And you’re trying to tell me you were involved with them. Why would they want you?”
His expression became pure hostility. “Because I’m an asset.”
“A pawn,” I mumbled.
His lips pursed. “You have no fucking clue what’s happening out there, and neither did your grandfather when he made that worthless deal with Patrick.”
Something twisted in my gut and I jumped to my feet. “What worthless deal?”
That fucking smile was back. “To end his legacy. His shadow was too large for Patrick to live under, especially from inside here. So Patrick had to get rid of him. Killian gave his life for the return of your old man’s.”
Oh God, I thought I might be sick. My old man was indentured to Patrick’s service because of my fuck-up, because when I was fifteen, I may or may not have gotten his daughter pregnant, and then instead of telling her father, she killed herself at my grandfather’s house, in his bathroom. And instead of me giving my life, which is the way it should have gone down, my father took responsibility for her death and gave his unlimited legal service and whatever else the Blue Hill Gang, or Patrick himself, needed.
A life for a life.
Dead or alive.
Tommy glanced at the clock on the wall. “Your old man should be free right . . . about . . . now.” He clicked his tongue in the most chilling way. “Tick tock.”
Anger boiled in my blood and before I knew what I was doing, I soared across the table and slammed his head down on the metal, over and over. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
Words were sputtering out but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
That’s when I stopped the pounding. Switching gears, I wrapped my hands around his neck and brought his face right up to mine. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I screamed in his face.
His eyes were like flames of hatred. “Now you’ll know how it feels to lose someone you love,” he laughed as blood gushed out his nose.
“No, no, no!” I kept squeezing.
He was sputtering, choking, gasping for air, but all of my control was gone.
The doors burst open and I found myself being peeled off Tommy. “I’m going to fucking kill you!” I screamed.
“Hey, you need to calm down,” the corrections officer said to me as he shoved me out of the room.
Even in the hall, I lunged for the door. My plan had gone to shit. There would be no visit from the Attorney General’s office now. But really, that plan had gone to shit the minute he started talking. We weren’t buddies. I wasn’t going to help him. This was never going to end well.
The officer shoved me against the wall. “You need to leave, now.”
Leave.