Chapter Thirteen

Dylan

By the time the sun came back around I was in the guest bed at my parents’ place. It was the right thing to do. Slip away before Emma started her day, but as I lay there, one arm over my head, staring up at the ceiling, I wished I could’ve woken up with her beside me.

The subtle scent of her clung to me and as I stirred to get up a flood of memories and leftover sensations threatened to overwhelm me. I tried to rationalize that I would’ve reacted the same way—with the same intensity—if it had been anyone. But that was bullshit, and I knew it. I’d gone too far. Let myself get way too close to the brink of permanently injuring the two thugs in the back of the diner. And I fucked the tension out of me with the only woman I’d ever loved.

Shoving it all to the back of my mind, I got up and padded to the bathroom for a shower. After a good scrubbing and a fresh change of clothes I was ready to face another day. At least as ready as I was going to be. Grief rolled in with unpredictable patterns. There’d been more than a few times I’d needed to excuse myself from the room to get some air. As a SEAL, I’d lost brothers in arms and while I once said they were just as close to me as my actual flesh and blood brother, now that Jimmy was gone, I could see that wasn’t the truth. This was different. The pain was sharper and more vicious. I had a hard time keeping a grip on it and even more so on the rage it unleashed within me.

My parents were at the breakfast table, staring blankly at their halves of the newspaper. From the looks of it, neither one of them had regained their appetite. People kept coming over—well-meaning friends and family—and they all tried to get them to eat, but the stacks of leftovers in the fridge were all the proof I needed to see it was pointless.

“Morning, Dylan,” my mom said as I entered the kitchen. She started to get up. “I can get you some waffles or maybe some French toast. That was always your favorite.”

I stopped her with a gentle hand and ushered her back into her chair. I leaned over and kissed her temple. “I got it, Ma. Looks like you’re not done with your own breakfast there.”

The coffee in the mugs wasn’t even steaming anymore. How long had they been there? My heart wrenched all over again at the thought of them sitting for hours, food untouched, paper unread, while their minds wandered aimlessly through their grief.

“What are your plans for the day, son?” my dad asked, flipping the page on his paper over to the sports section.

I went to the coffee pot and poured a cup for myself and then carried the pot to warm up my parents’ mugs. “I thought I’d stick around town, see if there’s anything I can do at the bar. Frankie’s coming in to show me the ropes.”

“Oh yeah?”

My mom perked up. “Does that mean you’re staying? Here in Brighton?”

I turned away to hide the cringe on my face. “I don’t know yet, Ma. I only asked Frankie to show me around so I can help out now that . . .” I abandoned the statement. “I need to talk to Uncle Paddy about a few things.”

“He’s out on the balcony,” my dad said with a wave of his hand.

I glanced at the back door. “Oh. Guess I’ll take this out there.”

My parents went back to the paper, and I slipped out to the backyard. Uncle Paddy was sitting on the steps of the back porch smoking a cigarette. He craned around at the squeak of the door. “Morning, my boy.”

“Morning.” I closed the door softly and then moved to sit on the steps beside him. He offered me a cigarette, but I shook my head. “No thanks.”

“How you doing?”

I shrugged. “Same I suppose. Worried about Ma and Pops. I know there’s nothing I can do to help them move through this, but damn, I wish like hell there was. I can’t stand seeing them this way.”

Paddy nodded and took a long drag. “You know, Jimmy wasn’t my boy, but you and he were always just like my own.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sighed and took a big swallow of my coffee. “I wish I could give them the answers of what happened that night. I don’t know how much it would help, but maybe it would. Closure is worth something.”

Paddy nodded in agreement but then frowned. “I can’t make any sense of it.”

I shook my head. “Me either. Jimmy didn’t have enemies. I’ve wracked my brain over this and can’t figure it out. I’m missing something.”

“You go see the Irish? The suppliers?”

I nodded and glanced at Paddy out of the corner of my eye. I wasn’t sure how much to tell him. I’d handled things. If they came back around looking to get their business started up again, they’d have to answer to me. I’d already planned on telling Frankie the whole story to make sure he knew what to watch out for once I was gone. But did I need to tell Paddy, too? I hated the idea of dragging Jimmy and Tommy’s memory through the mud.

“They weren’t involved in this, at least not as far as I could tell.”

“Well, you’ve always been good at getting a read on people.”

“Seems he switched to them because they had a little side business going,” I ventured, keeping one eye on Paddy for any sign that he might have had an inkling all along.

“What kind of business?”

I flexed my jaw and stared out at the yard. “Girls. Working girls.”

“What?” Paddy hissed.

I met his eyes. “I took care of it.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jimmy.” Paddy shook his head.

“My parents’ can’t know.”

“Of course not.”

“The Irish mob provided the clients and handled the cash.”

“That doesn’t sound like Jimmy.”

He was right. I leaned back and looked up at the sky. The morning clouds were starting to clear, and from the looks of things it was going to be a nice day. “What about Tommy?”

“What about him?”

“Does it sound like him? Gangster shit?”

Paddy was silent a beat longer than necessary. When I looked at him he didn’t meet my eyes. “That poor girl.”

I didn’t have to ask who he meant.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I asked, fighting to keep the anger from my tone. “In all these years no one bothered to tell me the truth about Tommy and Emma? I deserved to know.”

Paddy’s eyes flickered. “Did you?”

I reared back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Paddy waved a hand. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“No. I won’t. Tell me what you meant.”

“You left, Dylan. What did you think she was going to do? Wait for you? Is that what you wanted?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s in the past now. You and Emma. That’s all ancient history. Your father did his best to help out with the rent and lease on the restaurant.”

I ran a hand over my head, wishing I could step out of my skin. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d hated myself more. The image of Emma scraping and scrounging for pennies to pay her rent and take care of her mother and son while coping with an abusive husband... It was too much to bear.

“What happens to the pub now that Jimmy’s gone?”

Uncle Paddy shifted his weight. “I suppose Frankie will take it over again. Lord knows that’s not a good idea.”

I glanced up. “Why not?”

Paddy looked up at the sky. “I suppose he’s a little too much like his old man.”

“Paddy, what are you talking about?”

“You ever wonder why I didn’t step in and tell Frankie and Jimmy to forget their little bet?”

“Sure.”

“Well, it’s because I thought Frankie losing the place would teach him a lesson I still haven’t learned.” He paused to drag in a deep breath. “A few years ago, I was buried in debt. I got into some trouble at the tables. Jimmy helped bail me out. I never told anyone. Not even your father.”

“What happened?”

“You know that pub you went to? Over on Fourth Street. O’Doul’s?”

I nodded, remembering my recent visit.

“There’s an underground gambling ring that uses it a few nights a week for tournaments. Poker and blackjack mostly. When Frankie’s ma and I were going at it before the divorce, I spent a lot of time at the tables. I’d lose and lose, but I was at a place so dark I didn’t even care. Got so bad that I handed over the deed to the barber shop and the pub.”

“Paddy.” His words deflated me, like a little boy seeing the man behind the superhero mask.

“I’m not proud of it, son. It’s been the darkest shame of my life. And that’s saying something.” He shook his head, as though still in disbelief himself.

“How did Jimmy get you out of that?”

“He won it back. I figure there was a little more to it than that, but he’d never tell me. In any case, he came to the rescue.”

“How’d he even figure out you were in that deep?”

“He overheard me on the phone and put two and two together. You know how smart he was.”

I smiled. “Too smart for his own good most of the time.”

Paddy chuckled. “Whatever he did, it worked. I got my deeds back and vowed to never step in O’Doul’s again.”

“Which is why it made sense that his recent cash influx was from winning big at some poker game,” I said more to myself than Paddy.

“Exactly. I just figured he won some big pot and was sitting pretty. I never would’ve guessed he was running some kind of brothel.”

“I still haven’t figured it all out yet, but I’m starting to get the bigger picture.” I pushed up from the stairs. “I’ll see you at the pub tonight. We’ll get this train back on the tracks together, Paddy.”

“If anyone can, it’ll be you, my boy.”