“What kind of offer?”

His smile was sly. “One that would make me more powerful than my old man.”

“What kind of offer?” I repeated. Like I cared about his power trip.

“To be a wholesaler for the biggest drug supplier in Boston. Me. To be one step under the top of the cocaine chain. It had the potential to be a fucking gold mine.”

“Who was the supplier?”

He shook his head.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, so what happened next?”

“I told Lizzy that we couldn’t leave. That I was going to make so much money it would be worth staying. She agreed and even offered to help me unload the product. We started pushing the coke and just like I thought, were making money hand over fist.”

He said the last part with a pride that nauseated me.

“It wasn’t long before I was able to increase my buys. The supplier was happy. I was happy. I was doing a fucking great job. But Lizzy wasn’t happy. She still wanted to leave town. She didn’t like her life and she was ready to start over somewhere else. The thing was, I wasn’t.”

“Who was the supplier?” I asked again.

He laughed, but this time he answered. “Come on, you have to know. The Priest.”

“What’s his fucking real name?” I demanded.

He shook his head. “I don’t fucking know.”

Doubtful, I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he feeding me a bunch of bullshit? Maybe. Still, I didn’t stop him. I wanted to hear what he had to say. ”Go on.”

“One morning when I was about to make my biggest buy yet she shows up. Said she couldn’t stay in that house one more minute. I was in a hurry. She had parked behind me. We took the Mercedes and the five mil and went to make the buy.”

Five mil. The missing money. It was beginning to make sense. “But,” I interjected.

“The shit storm that followed is still a blur. The exchange went off without a hitch. On the way back to my place, I was out of cigarettes and asked her to stop at a corner store. When I went inside, she fucking took off with the drugs and left me there.”

Doubt coated my brow. “Let me get this straight—she stole two hundred fifty kilos of cocaine from you?”

“She called me as soon as she took off. Told me she was going home to get that kid and then it was time for us to leave town.”

“So she blackmailed you?”

“No, she’d just had enough of that husband of hers.”

“Why not just leave the guy?”

“Come on, she had a record. She was a drug addict and a prostitute. She knew no court would award her custody of that kid and for some reason she wasn’t willing to leave her behind. Her only option was to run.”

I shook my head. “Okay, so then what happened?”

“Then she never showed up.”

“Why?”

“Because the fucker hijacked the drugs.”

“And what happened to Lizzy?”

“The Priest took her.”

“Took her?” She’d been taken? Hadn’t she disappeared on her own? That I wasn’t buying.

“Aren’t you listening to me? O’Shea sabotaged the whole fucking thing. He took the drugs and arranged for her to disappear.”

Surprisingly, the events were making more and more sense. Patrick was demanding both the money and drugs as retribution, which I always found odd. How could both disappear? Obviously, just the drugs had been stolen. Oddly, I got the feeling Tommy wasn’t feeding me a complete line of bullshit except for one thing—I’d seen Tommy with Lizzy, and recently. I kept that to myself. “So what happened next?”

“I went to the Priest, told him what had happened. Hoped he’d help me, and instead he laughed in my face.”

“Not a surprise I suppose.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at me.

“What did you do next?”

“I sat on it for a while, waiting to see if Lizzy showed up.”

“So you weren’t sure she’d actually been taken then?”

He looked annoyed. “She had been taken. I just didn’t know it at the time. I found out later what had actually happened to her after she escaped.”

I still wasn’t buying it. “Okay, so you sat on it. Then what?”

“When I couldn’t take it anymore, I told my old man what I could without cutting my own dick off. I knew once he found that the money used was his, he’d make something happen. But he fucking sat on it forever.”

“Why did he wait?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“Maybe because he wanted to see you squirm?” I taunted.

“Fuck you. He told me it was because he wanted me to handle it, but more than likely it was because he was afraid of stepping on the wrong toes.”

Skeptical, I raised a brow. “Whose wrong toes?”

“Like I said, you don’t have a fucking clue.”

“Then enlighten me. You want my help. Tell me.”

Hatred seethed from his pores. I could practically smell it. “He took his time deciding because he was afraid of starting a war. Word on the street was that his old gang, the Dorchester Heights Gang, was reassembling, and that they were about to step up their game. He was afraid if he got involved in the drug side of things, they’d have reason to go after the Blue Hill Gang.”

Anger rising at his lies, I shouted, “The Dorchester Heights Gang has been out of play for years. Stop bullshitting me.”

“You, your old man, and even the DEA are in the fucking dark. They’ve been gearing up for years and they’re about ready to reemerge bigger and better than they ever were. Probably even stronger than the Blue Hill Gang ever was, even in your grandfather’s day. Rumor has it they have political ties.”

“How the fuck would you know that?”

“Have you not been listening to a goddamn word I’ve told you?”

My mind spun. “The Priest is the mob boss of the Dorchester Heights Gang?”

He gave a huff of laughter. “You’re a smart one.”

Made sense that Patrick would be fearful. Drugs were the most lucrative venue for mob business, and being in that business would put a huge bulls-eye on his back. “And you’re trying to tell me you were involved with them. Why would they want you?”

His expression became pure hostility. “Because I’m an asset.”

“A pawn,” I mumbled.

His lips pursed. “You have no fucking clue what’s happening out there, and neither did your grandfather when he made that worthless deal with Patrick.”

Something twisted in my gut and I jumped to my feet. “What worthless deal?”

That fucking smile was back. “To end his legacy. His shadow was too large for Patrick to live under, especially from inside here. So Patrick had to get rid of him. Killian gave his life for the return of your old man’s.”

Oh God, I thought I might be sick. My old man was indentured to Patrick’s service because of my fuck-up, because when I was fifteen, I may or may not have gotten his daughter pregnant, and then instead of telling her father, she killed herself at my grandfather’s house, in his bathroom. And instead of me giving my life, which is the way it should have gone down, my father took responsibility for her death and gave his unlimited legal service and whatever else the Blue Hill Gang, or Patrick himself, needed.

A life for a life.

Dead or alive.

Tommy glanced at the clock on the wall. “Your old man should be free right . . . about . . . now.” He clicked his tongue in the most chilling way. “Tick tock.”

Anger boiled in my blood and before I knew what I was doing, I soared across the table and slammed his head down on the metal, over and over. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

Words were sputtering out but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.

That’s when I stopped the pounding. Switching gears, I wrapped my hands around his neck and brought his face right up to mine. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I screamed in his face.

His eyes were like flames of hatred. “Now you’ll know how it feels to lose someone you love,” he laughed as blood gushed out his nose.

“No, no, no!” I kept squeezing.

He was sputtering, choking, gasping for air, but all of my control was gone.