Crush

Beep. Beep.

“I think that’s a great idea. The last couple of weeks have been difficult on us all. Relax, son, and try to have fun. I’ll talk to you when you get back.”

I gave him a nod. “Oh, hey, one more thing. What’s that guy’s name over at Tobey’s Automotive you use to tune up the Porsche?”

“Dwayne. Why, is something wrong with it?”

Beep. Beep.

“There’s a hum in the engine that sounds off. I want to see if he can look at it today before I leave.”

He was halfway out the door. “I’ll give him a call.” He glanced toward the driveway. “Where’s it at?”

“Elle’s. I drove her to work.”

His spare set of keys to the car was on the hook near the door and he grabbed it. “I’ll stop by the garage now. I’m sure he’ll be able to send someone over to her place to pick it up this morning and have it done by the end of the day.”

“That would be great.”

Beep. Beep.

“He’s an impatient motherfucker.”

“Like his younger brother.” I grinned.

My old man gave me a shake of his head and then he was out the door.

It was strange not telling him about Tommy, but there was time. I would call him once the news was released, which depending on the circumstances could be as late as next week. But for now, he could use the peace and quiet. For the first time in over twelve years he wasn’t bogged down with the life of the Blue Hill Gang, and I just wasn’t going to pull him back into all the shit. Especially with my uncle Hunter in town. He had kept his distance from that life and preferred to be kept completely out of the loop.

The remote was beside me. I clicked the television on and turned the channel to World News. Stretching my feet out on the coffee table as I caught up on what was happening in the world outside of Boston, my mind started to free itself of everything that was threatening to swallow me whole.

Just as the haze of mindlessness settled in, there was a knock on the kitchen door.

“Come in,” I called.

Keys hit the counter. “Where are you?”

“Family room.”

Miles strode in and Declan right behind him.

Declan, wearing torn jeans and leather braided bracelets, waited for me to move my feet to let him pass.

“Finally ready to do this as a team?” Miles asked, taking a seat in the chair my father always sat in.

I sat up straight. “Yeah, I am, but why do you want to help me?” I asked them both.

“That’s what friends do,” Declan said.

“I want to see justice served,” Miles replied.

“Right. A little too emotional,” I joked, then laughed.

“So what’s the plan?” Declan asked.

“Flush the Priest out.”

“How?”

I looked toward Miles. “You must know some cops looking for him.”

The grin on Miles’s face was wide. “Oh, they’re looking for him. The guys on the beat tell me they’ve definitely been hearing rumblings of emerging underground activity and they’re looking to squash it. It seems Blue Hill’s downfall is leaving the city wide open and they’re worried.”

My brows popped. “Any of them say whether it’s coming from the men in Patrick’s old crowd? The former Dorchester Heights Gang members?”

Miles crossed his leg over his knee. “Nope. The gang was small and no one has names. The only name they’ve heard on the streets is the Priest.”

Declan kicked back and put his arms behind his neck. “Let me ask my old man. He’ll remember who was involved.”

“You sure he’ll tell you?” I asked as I stood. “He’s been out of it for so long.”

“He’ll tell me.”

I gave him a nod.

“Get me the names, I’ll slide them over to the BPD and let them look into it.”

We all nodded.

Declan shifted in his seat. “Moving forward. I just don’t get why Patrick would have his own son killed unless he stood to benefit somehow. I mean, I know he’s a heartless bastard, but he kept Tommy as his number two for all this time, even through all of his fuck-ups. So why now?”

Miles shook his head in agreement. “I’m with you. Why? It’s true we all know Patrick didn’t keep Tommy around for his brains. He fucked up time after time, each train wreck worse than the last, so how is it Tommy stealing money and selling drugs under Patrick’s nose is any bigger of a crime?”

“A life for a life,” I muttered.

“What’d you say?” Miles asked, his ears perking.

“A life for a life. It’s the code on the street.”

Declan shot to his feet. “That’s it. Patrick had to have given up his son as retribution.”

I started to pace. “But for whose death?”

“That’s what we have to find out. If we find out who has Patrick by the balls, who Patrick gave his son up for, we’ll be one step closer to uncovering this entire mess.”

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