Page 6 of Alfie: Part One

Finnegan was the youngest boss the Sons had ever seen. He was just a year older than me at thirty-one, but he’d already been married for a while, and he had, like, five kids.

Kellan spotted me, and immediately, his eyebrows went up.

I smirked.

“Get the fuck out! What’re you doin’ here, mate?” He grinned and rose to his feet, quick to shake my hand and give my shoulder a squeeze. He leaned in close and spoke in my ear. “If you’re shooting for subtle, this ain’t it.”

I chuckled. “It’s all good. Can I buy you a pint? I’d like to have a word if you have time.”

“Pint’s on me, and I can spare twenty minutes,” he replied. He let out a sharp whistle at one of the guys. “Bring two pints to the table, and then all’a youse can take a break. Scatter.”

They obeyed faster than I’d obeyed my Sunday school teacher, and I’d been terrified of her.

I sat down next to Kellan, and I tried to come up with the right words.

“So this is a new experience,” he said with a grin. “Remember back in the day, like four years ago, when you swore you’d never get involved?”

He loved to throw that in my face.

Fucker.

“I hope Shan gags you tonight,” I replied.

“Fuck, so do I.” He scratched his eyebrow and threw an absent glance at the crowd. “I don’t need to remind you that we don’t discuss our personal lives on the job, right?”

“No.” Hint taken. I knew he was a private guy—and I only knew him well because we hadn’t gotten to know each other through the organization. Kellan’s associates knew he was married, and most knew he was gay. He would never hide that.But he didn’t flaunt shit either, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he came home to a husband and not a wife. He just didn’t discuss his personal life with people who weren’t invited to family dinners.

“So what brings you outta your bat cave?” he asked.

I blew out a breath and rested my arms on the table. The ink around my wrists was visible, and in a knee-jerk reaction, I almost tugged down the sleeves of my shirt. But I reminded myself I didn’t have to do that anymore.

I felt like a fucking idiot to think back on all the nights I’d pondered how I could win back West. I mean, in my day-to-day life, when I didn’t have the kids, I’d been moving in the opposite direction. I’d acted as if I’d long since lost him. I’d taken a job no upstanding citizen would approve of. I’d gotten tattoos and I smoked again, something that wouldn’t look good at one of West’s wine mixers.

I’d never fit in where he did.

I’d bargained with myself on lonely nights. Maybe I could break it to West slowly. Reveal the ink first, then admit I hadn’t quit smoking, then mention I made extra money “doing some shit” for a mate.

It was so fucking juvenile.

First of all, West wouldn’t care if I had ink. He’d liked me when I’d cursed too much—when I’d been crude and less…polished. It was mostly his family. But even so, not even West would approve of what I did for a living.

And now, I didn’t have to give a fuck.

“I want in,” I said.

Kellan didn’t make a single face. He tilted his head a little and showed he was listening, and that was all. Not the slightest twitch of his eyebrows.

“Not like everyone else, maybe, just… I think I can be of more use,” I went on. “You don’t gotta hide me like before.”

Because that had been our deal since I’d started working for him when we’d moved back from LA. I handled Kellan’s work phone. I scheduled his sit-downs and responded to texts and calls. I’d learned their codes and knew every name that belonged to someone important enough. Hundreds of associates and affiliates. Some freelancers too.

My only stipulation so far had been that I could work from home, without ever having to meet any of these mobsters on a regular basis. And also, a legit employment that looked good on paper. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to explain how I could afford my house, my car, any of it.

This had worked for us for a few years now. Red Mikey had been the errand boy at first, stopping by to pick up messages and whatnot from time to time. And then he’d been promoted. He ran his own crew now. So Max had taken over. He was younger and eager to work his way up. But mostly, I just met up with Kellan.

“Do you have ambitions?” Kellan asked.

I felt my forehead wrinkle, and before I could ask what he meant, one of Kellan’s guys returned with our beer.

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