Harper used to spend hours talking about the Gallo crime family. After her rants, I’d have to calm her down, holding her while she sobbed. To say that she had an abusive, fucked-up childhood would be putting it fucking mildly.

The Gallos ruined her, exposed her to violence and sex and vices at a young age, all to groom her for the family. She was supposed to become one of them, but instead of getting involved in the mafia, she ran away. After a while, she found me, but she never got rid of her demons. That’s why I think she fell into addiction. She was escaping whatever the Gallo bastards did to her.

I’ve always hated them. I never really had to interact with them, though. Enzo is the only one that Harper could even stand, and so he was her only point of contact. I have his number only because Harper couldn’t stand having it in her own phone, but she wanted to have it handy, just in case. I didn’t really understand that back then, but now I think I do, at least a little bit. Enzo’s number was her last connection to her family, and as fucked up and awful as they are, they’re still family. People need family.

Anger flows through me like hot lava when I leave the daycare place. I could head back to the apartment I’ve been renting, but I decide against it. I know I need to go back to job hunting, since I’m starting to run low on savings, but I can’t seem to calm myself down enough to be rational right now.

The fucking Gallo family wants my son. I’ve seen what those bastards can do to a person, and I won’t let them have him. Leah seems like she has her shit together and wants to protect Ryan, but I don’t know how long she can possibly resist them. She’s all alone, clearly overwhelmed by her new role.

I hate to admit it, but I’ve been following her. She was my only lead, after all. It took me about a week to realize that she adopted Ryan, and another week to decide to hold off on confronting her. I wanted to rush in there, steal back my son, and disappear into the night, but I couldn’t bring myself to do to Leah what Harper did to me. I know how that feels, I know that deep, broken ache, and I won’t subject Leah to it.

She’s doing a good job, as much as I hate to admit it. I mean, I don’t know what they’re like in the apartment, but they seem good together when they go out into the world. I followed them to the park once and watched from a distance, like a total fucking creep. It took all my willpower not to approach them, but I knew she’d freak out and call the cops.

I decided to approach her at the daycare place for two reasons. First, I wanted her to know who I am and to ask if she’d let me see my son. And second, and maybe more importantly, I wanted her to know that I know, and I wanted to apologize for following her. Maybe a stupid thing, but I couldn’t help myself.

Because the truth is, the more I watched her, the more interested I became. And now I can’t stop thinking about her, just like I can’t stop thinking about my son.

Which brings me back to the Gallos, and why I’m stalking through the streets of Philly as the sun’s setting, anger seething through me. I keep thinking about those rants Harper went on, and I keep remembering one particular detail, a bar she said they used to all gather at. It’s a place called Sleepless, not exactly the name you’d imagine for a mafia bar, but she said it was their usual hangout.

I don’t know how, but I find myself in a cab, heading into south Philly. The cab drops me off in front of a drab little building, shoved in between two row houses, with a sign out front. It’s weathered and peeling and the place doesn’t look open. I’m about to leave when a guy comes out the doors, glances at me, and walks the other way.

I take a breath and walk over to the doors, pull them open, and head inside.

Sleepless looks just like Harper described it. Old guys sit at the bar, nursing their alcohol. The place is mostly empty though, and everyone glances at me as I head over to the bar. The guy pouring drinks is heavy in the middle, smoking a cigarette and cleaning a glass. He comes over to me with a frown.

“Need something?” he asks.

I take a breath and for a second, I think about turning around. I could just leave. I know this is stupid. I’m angry and being completely fucking irrational, but I hate the Gallos for what they did to Harper, and I hate them even more for what they want to do to my son.

“I want to see Enzo Gallo,” I say to the bartender. “He coming in tonight?”

The bartender stares at me, clearly surprised, before getting himself together. “Who?” he asks. “Never heard of him.”

I laugh a little. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Is he coming in or what?”

The bartender waits a second and shrugs, dropping the act. “Wait here,” he says, and disappears into the back.

My pulse jumps and fear threatens to roll through me, but I push it away. They want to take my boy and ruin him the same way they ruined Harper. I’m not going to let them. Even if I hate Harper and fell out of love with her a long, long time ago, even before Ryan was born, I still despise them. Nobody should be hurt the way she was hurt.

The bartender comes back a minute later followed by two guys. One of them is a fat man, almost slovenly, with a gut spilling out from under his shirt. The other one’s short and muscular with squinty eyes and a dark baseball cap pulled low.

“You lookin’ for Enzo?” the fat man asks me.

I nod at him. “You know where he is?”

The guy smiles at me, but I can tell the friendliness is masking danger. “Sure, I know. Come with us, yeah? I’ll take you to him.”

I know I shouldn’t go, but I’m too angry, or maybe too stupid. I get up and nod. “Lead the way.”

“Yeah, okay,” the fat guy says. I follow them through the back of the bar, past a little kitchen, and into a back room. He takes me through another hallway and out a back door. We’re in an alley behind the building, and the two guys face me.

I know I should strike first, but I don’t get the chance. The fat guy surprises me, lashing out faster than I thought he could, catching me with a fist to my gut. I stumble back as the shorter guy knees me in the jaw and throws me to the ground.

“Why the fuck would you come in there and say that name?” the fat guy says. “Are you fucking suicidal?”

I can only grunt in response. I might be, or maybe I just am so angry I wanted an excuse to hit or get hit. I guess it’s the latter for me right now.

“He’s stupid,” the short guy says, grinning.

“Who are you?” the fat man asks.

“Connor,” I grunt, getting up to my knees, breathing deep. “He knows me.”

“He don’t know shit,” the short guy says and kicks me in the back, knocking me forward.

The fat guy sighs. “Serious, Joey? He doesn’t know shit? Enzo knows plenty.” He shakes his head, heavy jowls flopping. “Just kick his ass and be done with it, okay?”

“Sure, boss,” the short guy says.

He kicks me again and again, knocking me to the ground. His instep connects with my jaw and I can taste warm blood on my tongue. The guy beats the shit out of me, and when he’s done, he steps away.

“Now, you ever gonna come back here?” the fat guy asks.

“No,” I grunt, although I think that’s a lie.

“Good. I don’t know what you owe Enzo, but stay away, you stupid fucking cunt.” The fat guy sigs. “Come on, Joey.”

The two men disappear back inside, leaving me alone in the alley.

It takes me a little while but eventually I pull myself up against the wall, leaning my back against it. I hurt all fucking over, but I’m not dead, and I don’t think they broke anything.

I gather myself, staring up at the sky through the gap in the buildings. I don’t know why the fuck I came out here. I don’t know what I expected. In my mind, I was going to confront Enzo, get him to back off my son, but of course that wouldn’t have happened.

No, I knew that was a stupid daydream. I knew that I was going to get into a fight. I wanted to try and get my hands dirty, but fucking hell, what a stupid, suicidal thing to do.

I’m a fucking mess, I realize with a grin. Two years of frantically searching for my son left me pretty fucked up.

I sigh and slowly stand up, groaning against the pain. I need to get my shit together if I’m going to have any chance of getting Ryan. I’m so close to him, so fucking close, and now’s not the time to ruin my chances. I have to show Leah that I’m his real father and that I’m worthy of getting him back.

As I limp back out to the street, wincing the whole way, I realize that I’m in worse shape than I realized. I don’t have the money for a hospital trip right now, and I don’t know anyone in this damn fucking city.

Except…

I groan again as I flag a cab and get into the back. I give him the address and we head out to my second stupid idea of the night, although this one is born of desperation instead of some insane suicidal rage.