Page 88 of Part & Parcel

Nick brought up his other hand, covering his face with both palms.

“This guy your real dad, Irish?” Digger asked quietly.

Nick raised his head, sighing as he tried to smile at Digger. “Yeah. Yeah he is.”

“The . . . the mob boss?” Ty stuttered.

Nick straightened again, putting both hands on his knees as he looked up at the ceiling.

Ty had a hand on the top of his head, staring at Zane. “I finally get it,” he whispered.

“What?” Owen asked him.

“Irish was always talking about evil running in his family, and I never fucking understood until just now.”

Nick cleared his throat, nodding.

“When did you figure this out?” Kelly asked Nick, voice still gentle even though Zane could tell he was distraught.

“When I was sixteen. He took me in like I was his own. It’s because Iwas. Took me a few months to get up the nerve to ask him, but when I did he told me the truth. Said I deserved to knowwhymy dad hated me.”

Kelly scowled and looked down at the ring he was wearing on his left hand.

“You said he gave this ring to you when you were sixteen. You wore it every day of your life; I’ve only seen you take this thing off a couple times.”

Nick was watching him, eyes darting to the ring and then back to Kelly’s face. “Yeah. It was . . . it was a family heirloom. Only thing I have of it, I don’t even have his name.”

Kelly nodded, frowning harder.

Zane pushed his chair back and stood, drawing everyone’s attention. He shrugged unapologetically. “I can’t hear,” he said as he edged around the table and plopped himself in Ty’s vacated seat between Owen and Nick.

“Okay,” Owen grunted, and he slapped his hand against the table. “This is a surprise. But it’s not awful. Hell, I’d rather Paddy Whelan be your real father than the asshole you grew up with, dude. At least Whelan cared enough about you to do something for you.”

Nick snorted, and he almost smiled. But he still looked sick and worried, and Zane knew they’d only heard half of the story.

“Irish?” Ty asked softly, and he sat on the end of the bench seat, his back pressed to Zane’s side. “What does he have you doing for him?”

“Nothing,” Nick answered immediately. “Nothing . . .active.”

Zane felt Ty tense against him.

“That’s . . .” Ty wasn’t able to finish whatever he’d been trying to say. He just nodded like he understood, lowering his head to scowl at his hands.

“Are you saying you’re on the payroll of the Irish mob in Boston?” Zane asked, trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

“Yeah,” Nick whispered.

“When did this start?” Ty asked quietly.

“As soon as I got home to Boston. After I left you and Eli on your way to Quantico,” Nick said. He winced away from them, turning his gaze to Kelly instead. Kelly hadn’t taken his eyes off Nick, though, and they sat staring at each other for a few long moments.

“You’ve been getting paid under the table by an Irish mob family in Boston for the last ten years,” Kelly said.

Nick gave a sharp nod.

“YourIrish mob family,” Kelly clarified, speaking slowly like he was dazed by the words.

Nick either wasn’t willing or wasn’t able to answer. His lips were parted like he wanted to, but the words seemed to have struck him dumb.

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