Page 105 of Bloom: Part 2

“Son of a bitch.”

Emil climbed to his knees and looked through the double windows. I did the same. My heart lurched. Ben’s car was following us. I could make out Bloom in the passenger seat.

“Lose them, Bishop,” Emil said. “Or else.”

He raised his gun. I shoved him away from the door. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Well, this is rich. Who would have thought you could be loyal to someone? What? Your family wasn’t important enough, but this boy you’re fucking is?”

“I don’t care what you do to me, Emil, but you don’t hurt him. I swear you’ll regret it if you do.”

“Wish I could say I’m surprised you’d put someone else above family.”

“You, of all people, know what I’ve been through with the family.”

Emil didn’t respond. The van swerved left, then right, tossing me against the metal sides. Emil managed to stay upright, bracing himself against the walls. His physique had changed since we last met, muscular now where he used to be lanky.

Minutes stretched by, minutes in which my heart lodged in my throat until Bishop shouted that he’d lost the car. I let out a deep breath. They could do anything they wanted to me, but they could not hurt Bloom. I wouldn’t let them.

Almost an hour later, the van raced down an empty street, turned along a dirt track, and screeched to a halt. I groaned as I hit my side against a metal box bolted to the floor. If they didn’t kill me, I would be all black and blue tomorrow.

“Out.” Emil opened the back doors of the van.

I squinted into the sudden sunlight and hauled myself out of the van. We were in front of a rundown warehouse—my father’s special place to carry out torture. I always knew this day would come.

“Move.” Emil shoved me in the back.

I entered the cold warehouse. Despite its dilapidated exterior, someone had recently made the interior functional. Strategically placed light bulbs hung from exposed wires, casting long shadows on the smooth concrete floor. An assortment of tools were on a metal rack at one side. My breath hitched.

A distinguished-looking man in a dark chocolate-brown pea coat over a black suit walked into the center of the room. As usual, his shoes shone with the high gloss of a careful polish despite how dusty it was. His silver hair was slicked back neatly, revealing a tense face with deep furrows around his mouth.

“Uncle.” I closed my eyes briefly as warm memories washed over me. I had always been close to my uncle—closer than to my father. Uncle Mickey was the one who made me love medicine,the area he’d wanted to pursue but said he wasn’t smart enough. The day I’d been given my residency, he’d cried. He’d bought me a brand-new medical bag. My father had reminded me how important it was to make contacts and not to ruin the Agosti name.

“Keegan.” His throaty voice echoed through the room. “No, it’s Logan now, isn’t it?”

“Yes. What are you doing here?”

“I had to come of course. Had to see with my own eyes that you’re actually him.”

I winced at the way he saidhim. “You shouldn’t have come. I’ve moved on. What’s done is done, and—”

“Do you think your father would ever forget what you’ve done?” Uncle Mickey shook his head. “You betrayed the family, Keegan. We became the laughingstock in our world. We had to fight tooth and nail to survive, and you can’t be bothered to even give an apology.”

I clenched my jaw, then released. “Because I don’t owe anyone one. You all put me in a bad position when—”

“There’s no excuse, Keegan! Don’t you get it? No matter what happens in families, we stick together.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Mickey, but I couldn’t do it anymore. Pop killed someone just because I was sleeping with them. I didn’t have any control over my life anymore. Why couldn’t I at least take charge of my own private life?”

“Your father wanted to protect you from the criticism he knew you would face for fucking another man.” He looked at Bishop, then back at me. “It doesn’t matter if I understand your motive. Your father doesn’t, and now he knows where you are.”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “What do you mean?”

“I know what you think. That I came here to harm you, but despite what you’ve done, I’ll always see you as the son I never had.”

I inhaled sharply, tears pricking my eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Your father knows where you are and who the people you associate with are,” Uncle said. “He might be behind bars, but he’s still very much the one in charge of the family. I can’t remove the contracts he’s placed on your head. I can only warn you that if you don’t disappear again, you won’t live for much longer.”

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