“Took long enough.”

Leathers picked up the pint with a shaking hand. I watched in utter amazement as he drained it in one go, gulping audibly, the amber liquid disappearing down his throat. His Adam’s apple, wrinkled as a walnut, jerked spastically the whole way. When he slammed the glass back down and smacked his lips, he seemed no worse for the wear.

We were sitting in the very back of the Pied Piper, far from the scant crowd at the bar. Luis glanced in our direction occasionally, concern in his eyes, but he didn’t intrude. And we trusted him to make sure that no one else would intrude, either. It was good to know he was on our side. It was hard to tell who was.

“You know, I’ve never heard you speak before,” Rev said. And I realized I hadn’t, either.

“Don’t never had much to say,” Leathers said. His voice was rough, soft, and wheezy. It almost seemed like using his voice pained him. Which would explain his years of silence.

So why was he speaking to us now?

“Gino told us to come to you,” I said. “He said we needed to talk to you.”

“I expect he did. Only one he trusted to do it.”

Rev and I shared a glance.

“Who trusted? To do what?”

“Yer old man,” Leathers said, throwing his filmy eyes my way. He lit a cigarette, offered the pack. We all took one, for formality’s sake, mostly. Somehow, I’d managed to quit after all. Replaced nicotine with sex, I suppose.

“Millions told Gino to tell us to talk to you?” Rev asked. It sounded like an eighth-grade gossip mill. But then, criminals can be petty as pre-teens sometimes. And certainly as careful about who knows what.

“Ayup.”

We waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. Rev’s eyes darted to the door every few seconds. We were both waiting for the police to bust in, for someone in the bar to rat on us. Luis could only do so much. If someone went to the bathroom and made a call…

“Why?” I asked. We needed to get out of here, sooner rather than later.

“Yer old man knew I was good for it,” Leathers said. “I take secrets to the grave.”

“So Millions trusted you,” Rev translated.

“Ayup. I promised him I’d never tell anyone but you.” At that, he raised a bony finger and pointed it at Me. His nails were yellow as old newspaper.

“Tell me what?” I asked, getting frustrated.

“The money,” Leathers said. “It’s in the fairy house. Don’t know what that shit means, but I’m guessing you do.”

Holy shit. Gino said there was money, but I still didn’t believe it - couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe my dad would keep it from me. But now - there wasn’t any denying it anymore. Leathers had no good reason to know the words “fairy house”, and certainly had no good reason to know to say them to me. Dad kept it secret, but he left the trail for me to find it. When I had a reason to. Why? Why not just tell me? They could have killed me long before I ever talked to Leathers…

“He didn’t want ya knowin’,” Leathers grumbled, reading into my expression. “’Cause knowin’ coulda got ya killed. Don’t expect he expected to die ‘fore he could fix it so ya knew ‘bout it, but he prepared.”

“It still doesn’t make sense,” I said, shaking my head slowly, my mouth parted, my mind going a million miles an hour. Trying to figure it out. Trying to understand.

“Some things a man does don’t make no sense,” Leather snapped. “Yer old man didn’t want ya leavin’. It’s a lotta money. He couldn’t stand ya takin’ it an’ leavin’ him to rot.”

“I would never have left him,” I said, feeling unwanted tears pressing against my eyes. “No amount of money could have made me leave him. He was my father.”

“Misty…” Rev put his hand over mine. I knew what he was trying to tell me; this wasn’t the time or the place to figure this shit out. We were sitting ducks at the Piper. We needed to get gone. Before we could do that, though, Leathers spoke up again.

“Somethin’ else I gotta tell ya,” Leathers said. “Gemme a beer.”

Rev shot up to order, and I was left alone with the old man. He just smoked, staring at me, blinking far less often than seemed normal.

“My old man trusted you,” I said.

“And I trusted him. He was one of the good ones. One of the only good ones.”

Trust. All this fucking shit boiling down to trust. Well, if my father had just trusted me, I wouldn’t be running for my life. Rev wouldn’t be running from the law. He wouldn’t have been shot in the arm. I wouldn’t have had my house burnt down. Trust. What a fucking joke.

“How’d anyone else find out about it?” I asked.

“Don’t know,” Leathers barked. “Does it matter?”

It didn’t, really. Maybe someone bought it off Gino. Maybe someone heard it from my old man in prison. Maybe someone had it come to him in a dream.

But even if someone had found out they needed to talk to Leathers, what good would fairy house have done them? That was me and dad’s thing. Our favorite secret. No one could have found it - only me.

Rev trotted back, beer slopping over the rim of the glass onto his hand. He slammed it down in front of Leathers, who made it disappear just as fast as the first one. A hell of a magic trick. He put the empty glass down, smacked his lips, and started talking again.

“Them asshats who done work with Millions, they’re not on yer side,” Leathers said. “Slickboy, Tanner, Shark. Ain’t no one paid me to tell ya this. Just my own honor. Can’t abide this disloyal bullshit. Ain’t no kind of man at all, a man who betrays his friend. Dead or alive.”

I felt a pain in my soul. Slickboy, Tanner, Shark…they were like my family. Uncles. They’d spoiled me, doted on me. Shit, Shark and Tanner even came to the ceremony when I got my vet tech degree. And they’d turned their backs on me. They were going to let me die. What could be worth that, to them?

“What’ve they done?” Rev asked, his knuckles white and jaw clenched.

“Jackie’s got shit on ‘em. Prison time shit. Holdin’ it over their heads like grand piano. Ain’t none of ‘em want to spend retirement in the hoosegow. Shark burned up yer house and told the cops ya took the girl. Tanner, Slickboy, they roughed up that girl, got her talkin’ bout you. Tryin’ to save their asses. Don’t even care if ya die so they don’t get locked up. Disloyal motherfuckers.”

“Jackie? Jackie who?”

“Haven’t figured that out yet?” Leathers said. “Jackie O’Callahan. He’s the one after ya.”

Jackie O’Callahan. Oldest brother of seven rowdy, red-assed, law-flaunting kids. They were their own little empire of ruckus. Rich as shit, but you wouldn’t know it from the way they dressed, or spoke, or acted. Now, we had a face and a name. But besides slaking our curiosity, it didn’t serve much purpose. Rev and I both knew that if it came down to it, we would be dead before we could even say his name. He was too big. Too powerful.

If anything, knowing his name was a curse, because it robbed us of the last thing we had: hope.