by Sam Burns
As he tossed, he nodded to Liam, and the two of them leaned around either side of the crate, firing in tandem.
9
Alex Figures Things Out
“Anybody want to talk about this?” Elsi asked at the end of practice.
Jake had entirely ignored the bombshell Mrs. Spielman had dropped, and dragged them into two hours of focused practice. He hadn’t even complained that Alex had been distracted the whole time, and paid more attention to Elsi’s struggle with a solo and Jenna’s new song.
It had given Alex two hours to get his head together, connecting every dot he had found. All of them led from Keegan into things that Alex wished he didn’t know.
Keegan’s father was a mobster. Alex’s dad had worked for Keegan’s father. Alex’s dad had been a mob lawyer—the father he had always been so proud of, whom he still couldn’t imagine being anything but an honest, caring, law-abiding citizen.
Keegan’s father was a mobster. Liam had introduced them to Keegan. Liam had been clear about the fact that he had secrets he couldn’t share. Liam probably worked for a mobster. Liam, the first man to ever catch Alex’s interest, and after just two weeks, whom Alex didn’t want to think about living without.
Alex packed up Cheesecake and just sat there staring at the scuffed and dented black case.
“Alex?” Jenna asked, sounding tentative for the first time since he’d known her. “I don’t want to bother you, but I think Els is right. We should talk about it.”
He looked up at everyone. Jake was carefully packing his guitar away, an endeavor that seemed to take ages every single time he did it. The other two, though, were both looking at him.
They were worried, of course. He would have been worried too, if it turned out one of them had a mob lawyer for a father. But their parents owned a deli in Chicago and a construction company in Iowa.
“Leave him alone,” Jake said without looking up. “If he doesn’t want to talk about it, it’s none of our business.”
“What about the fact that Keegan is a criminal?” Elsi asked.
Jenna snorted. “Seriously? That’s your biggest worry here?”
When she spoke again, Elsi’s voice was smaller. “You think that Liam is a criminal?”
“Who cares?” Jenna threw her hands in the air. “Keegan runs a totally legitimate business. Liam is Alex’s business, and it’s not our place to tell him how to react.”
Elsi looked scandalized. “You’re okay with Alex dating a criminal?”
“I’m okay with Alex dating an alien if it makes him happy.” Jenna walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I think we should be worrying about Alex finding out his dad was some kind of mob—”
Jake, seeming to have teleported his way across the room, put a hand over his sister’s mouth and gave her a glare. “Leave it, Jen. Not our business unless Alex wants it to be.” He turned to Alex. “I don’t care what Jenna says, I am worried about Liam being a criminal, and that it might get you hurt.”
“What about us playing at Wilde’s on Tuesday?” Elsi asked. She seemed a little more confident in the conversation, given its direction.
Jake shrugged. “Sucks that Keegan might be a criminal, but I don’t think it makes Wilde’s some kind of seedy, drug-infested dive bar. And we’d know. We’ve played enough of them, right?”
Jenna gave him a look that promised future retribution for manhandling her, but gave Elsi a shrug of her own. “Keegan seems like a good guy to me. Wilde’s is a nice place in the middle of downtown. There’s no way I’m pulling out of playing there.”
Alex sighed. “Are you really worried that someone is going to get hurt, or that there’ll be drugs or something? I’ve been working there for two weeks, and haven’t seen anything like that.” He watched Elsi’s reaction. It was obvious enough what the other two thought, so her feelings were the only thing left that that could sway whether the band would play there.
“Are you going to keep working there?” she asked.
He didn’t even hesitate. “I am.”
She bit her lip, but the concern in her eyes had faded some. “You’re not worried?”
“A little bit, about a lot of things.” He walked over and sat down in front of her drums. “I’m worried about my dad. I’m worried about Liam. I’m worried about you. What I’m not worried about is that I’m in any danger at Wilde’s.”
For some reason, that seemed to make her feel better. She smiled at him, her eyes sympathetic. “You don’t want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about any of it. I have plenty of people I have to talk to about it. If it makes you feel better, I’ll be talking to Keegan about it the next time I see him.”
“Why?” Jenna asked, concern leeching into her voice. “I mean, I doubt he wants to talk about it if he is some kind of mobster.”
Jake huffed. “You’re obsessed with that word, Jen. Keegan isn’t a mobster. Alex’s dad wasn’t a mobster. This isn’t the Roaring Twenties. No one is running a speakeasy, there won’t be any Tommy Guns, and you won’t be invited to be anyone’s moll.”
Jenna looked terribly disappointed, and it made them laugh for the first time since Mrs. Spielman’s dramatic reveal.
Jake gave Alex a reassuring smile and nod.
Everything was going to be okay, even if Jenna wasn’t going to be a flapper.
When they got back to Jake and Jenna’s apartment, Alex decided to go for a walk.
He wanted to call Liam right away, but after the way he’d been called to work that morning, Alex suspected he was still busy. He didn’t want to interrupt Liam at work, especially if he was working for a gangster.
The other thing he kept considering was his mother. Surely she would have known if his father was involved in something like that.
When she had cut him off, she’d told him she didn’t want to hear from him again until he came to his senses. While nothing had changed for him regarding law school, he felt like he had a right to know what his father’s connection to the Quinn family had been. His father’s business was private, but when it might affect Alex’s health and well-being, and that of his friends, it became Alex’s business, too.
After half an hour of wandering, he found himself in a small local park, sitting on the middle of the merry-go-round. He stared at the tagging on the wall around the park, trying to make sense of the mass of swirling colors, letters, and symbols.
“Hey mister, this is for kids,” a little boy said, scowling at him, arms crossed over his chest.
Alex raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see a sign anywhere that says kids only. What’s wrong, don’t think you can move it with me on it?”
He loved how simple everything was when you were young. He wasn’t sure if that meant he wanted to be a kid or have one. No, it was definitely the first. Even a few years prior, when he’d just been mindlessly following his parents’ plan for his life, everything had been so much simpler. He almost missed not having to make these hard choices.
The boy seemed to consider the question for a minute, cocking his head one way and then the other, then he shook his head. “No way. You’re too big.”
His little sister followed him over, hiding behind him. She peeked out from around his shoulder.
Alex smiled at them. “I’ll bet your sister could do it.”
“Nuh-uh!”
Looking at the tiny girl, Alex nodded reassuringly. “You can totally do it, right? Like a superhero.” He motioned at her shirt, plastered with the face of a fierce Amazonian heroine he’d seen in a recent movie trailer.
She got a little twinkle in her eye and nodded.
Her brother gave her a dubious look, and held his hand out toward the merry-go-round as though to demand that she prove herself.
She grabbed one metal grip and started to shove her whole body against it. Her face shocked when it started to turn with no more difficulty than usual. She looked at him as though he’d performed some sort of miracle or witchcr
aft, then grinned and threw herself into it wholeheartedly.
The kids seemed endlessly entertained that they could push it with him on it, so he just laughed and let them. His head was already spinning, so it didn’t seem to make a lot of difference.
A woman not much older than Alex came to the edge of the park after a while, calling to the two of them and telling them it was time for dinner. The girl asked if he needed dinner too, telling him that her mom would certainly be happy to feed him.
He grinned, but shook his head. “No thanks. I gotta go call my mom. You have a good dinner, okay superhero?”
She grinned back and pretended to fly off, giggling the whole way. Her mother smiled and waved at him, a shockingly friendly gesture for a woman who found her kids playing with a grown man, but he returned it. He was never going to ignore someone offering him kindness.
Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he turned to drag his feet toward Jake and Jenna’s, he found his mother on his contact list and pressed the call button.
“Alexander Jonas Austin!” his mother answered after the first ring, sounding annoyed. “It is about time you called me.”
“You kind of told me not to, Mom,” he reminded her gently.
“Well, I,” she paused for a long moment. “I suppose you’re not calling to tell me that you’re going back to school?”
“No.”
She sighed. “But you need money?” Oddly, she sounded more sad than angry or stubborn. He had the feeling that if he said yes, she’d give in.
“No, Mom, I don’t need money. I got a job.” That brought a smile to his face. It was a hard job, and he didn’t always love doing it, but he loved the fact that he had one. For the first time in his life, he had something that made him feel like a contributing member of society.
His mother was silent for a long time. “A job? Please tell me you’re not teaching philosophy.”
He laughed. “Not even close. I’d need to spend a lot more time in college for that.” It occurred to him that his job was going to bother her. She obsessed enough over the family name, the idea of an Austin waiting tables was going to make her go nuclear. He decided to try keeping the details hazy. “I’m working at a place downtown. That’s not why I’m calling, though.”
“Do you like it?” she asked in a small voice. “Your job?”
“Kind of,” he answered, nodding. “It’s not like, fun work, but I like working with people. And I’ve made some friends there.”
“I used to work,” she said. It was odd, he could have sworn her voice was almost wistful. It had gone back to her usual brisk, businesslike tone by the time she spoke again. “But that isn’t why you’re calling? I could find you a different job, you know. You could at least work in your father’s firm, even if you’re not in school right now.”
He tried to smother a grin at her complete unwillingness to accept reality. Oh well, if she was giving a little, so would he. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed immediately. He was starting to think she’d been really worried, when she confirmed it for him. “How have you been? Are you eating? Those musician friends of yours are letting you stay with them?”
“Yes, Mom. Everything is going great. I’m staying with Jake and Jenna. I’m eating more than enough.” He patted his belly, as though to show her through the phone that he hadn’t lost weight. “It’s about Dad, Mom.”
“What’s about your father?” she asked, sounding confused by the turn in subject.
He took a deep breath. “Someone told me today that he worked for the Quinn family.”
She was quiet, but he didn’t think it was shock or an unwillingness to talk about the subject. If it was that, she’d have jumped right to defensive. “I think I remember a Quinn,” she said slowly after a minute. “Brady? Brandon? He came over for dinner a few times when your father was defending his son from some horrible trumped-up charge. The poor man was beside himself with worry.”
“That’s it?” he asked. He hardly believed that one trial could be the extent of it, if someone like Mrs. Spielman thought of his father as a mob lawyer.
“I think so,” his mother said after thinking it over. “I don’t remember seeing him again. He was a lovely man, though. Very respectful and well-mannered.”
He waited for her to say something like ‘for an Irishman’, but she didn’t. He decided that it showed character growth, and it made him happy.
While he didn’t want to anger his mother, especially given the perfectly civil conversation they were having, he had to dig a little. “Did you know that some people think Dad was working for criminals, Mom? Not just as a criminal defense lawyer, but like, as one of them.” He cringed at how weak that sounded, sighed, and added Jenna’s colorful appellation. “Like a mob lawyer.”
His mother sighed. “I’ve heard that kind of nonsense, too. Don’t you dare think a thing like that, though, Alexander.” Her voice was stronger than he remembered hearing in the five years since his father’s death. It wasn’t that shrill anger that he’d become used to, but a steel spine that she showed when she was determined to prove a point. “Your father believed that everyone deserved a good defense. That’s why he worked so many pro-bono cases for people who couldn’t possibly afford him. But he did not ever go into court and plead innocent for someone he believed to be guilty.”
“I believe you, Mom,” he told her, and it was true. While he was aware of his mother’s many issues, he recognized when something was important to her. And he would be the first to admit that he didn’t want to think of his father as a bought man.
“Thank you, dear.” She took a deep breath, and then let it out. “Now, are you coming home for Christmas?”
Oh boy. “I, um, thought you didn’t want me coming home until I was back in school?”
“I suppose you’re still determined to follow through with this music nonsense?” Her tone was resigned, and he was ashamed to admit that it made him happy. It meant that she was giving in, at least a little.
“Yes, Mom. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t try this. It’s what I love. And I’m good at it.” In a way that he would never be good at law, but he didn’t point that out. No reason to grind salt into the wound.
“I expect a full report when you come home for Christmas,” she informed him. “I will see you at eight a.m. sharp, or you will miss breakfast. And I am still not giving you any money until you come to your senses.”
She hung up, but he kept grinning into the phone like a fool.
10
Liam's Day Looks Up
Donny O’Hanrahan was dead.
Liam hadn’t liked him. Hell, he’d been a grade A jackass. But watching his uncle carelessly cause his death had been surreal. Liam no longer had a single doubt about who Patty O’Hanrahan put first in his life.
After they’d dispatched the Russians, Liam checked their bodies while Patty had gone to check on Donny. The third Russian, their driver, had taken off on foot instead of taking the SUV for some reason. Liam had found Patty gazing down at his nephew’s body, a dispassionate expression on his face. If anything, he looked vaguely disappointed, like he blamed Donny for his own actions. How terribly inconvenient of Donny to die.
Liam had seen worse things than Donny’s body. It was a surprisingly neat wound, just a single bullet that had opened up an artery in his neck. A lucky shot for a not-so-lucky Russian.
Liam no longer thought he’d seen worse things than Patty O’Hanrahan. Patty could have thrown those coins in any direction, and he’d chosen to toss them right near his already-injured nephew. Liam needed to do his job and put this man behind bars, personal cost be damned.
They stuffed the two dead Russians into the back of their own SUV. and Patty sent Liam off in the vehicle with orders to ditch it somewhere other than the docks.
It hadn’t been until he was five miles away that he’d realized one of the Russians had clipped him in the arm. The adrenaline had masked the pain, and t
he black of his leather jacket had hidden the blood. He pulled over and peeled his jacket back to take a look, deemed it to be non-life-threatening, and cut off a piece of his own shirt-sleeve with his pocket knife to staunch the bleeding. He didn’t want to take anything that belonged to the dead men.
He finished dumping the car and headed for his apartment on foot. Well, Liam Kennedy’s apartment. His backup burner phone was there, and he needed to call Casey and let her know what had happened. Dead bodies were going to raise so many red flags. He would be lucky if the department didn’t just pull him.
Usually, he tried to make up for his intimidating stature and build by looking as friendly as possible. It helped people in public places to be less nervous about the huge guy next to them. Given that he didn’t want anyone to notice he had been bleeding, this time when he climbed onto the train to head home, he kept a scowl on his face and glared at anyone who so much as looked at him. They stayed away. When he made it off the train, he stuck to the back alleys, trying to avoid people as much as possible.
Under normal circumstances, he’d have just gone to the hospital. The situation he was in made that harder. It wasn’t a bad one, but the hospital was required to involve law enforcement in the event of any gunshot wound. That wouldn’t be a big deal for him, but it would have been a big deal for Liam Kennedy, the gang thug. Since he wasn’t bleeding to death, he went home.
By the time he arrived at the apartment, he was feeling a little woozy. He didn’t think he’d lost that much blood, but between that, the shock of dealing with Donny’s death, and the adrenaline crash, he was glad he wasn’t driving anymore. He was always glad not to be driving, but especially in his condition.
It took him two tries to get the keys out of his pocket, and then he stared at the tiny keyhole for a minute, trying to steady his hand. It wasn’t too shaky, but he didn’t want to have to try multiple times to open his own front door. That would hearken back to too many other nights he didn’t want to think about.