Page 8 of Reign of Psychos

“I will once everyone’s paid their respects.” Carlo had arranged a small gathering at a local bar, where people who knew my father could have a few drinks and remember the man he was. They’d expect me to appear.

Francesco’s jaw tightened in annoyance. He didn’t give a fuck that my father was dead, other than the fact it inconvenienced him.

“You have tonight, but I’ll expect you first thing in the morning.” He leaned over the open grave and smirked as he kicked some dirt in. Torrance nodded at the guards who stood nearby and then they both headed back toward the waiting cars, leaving me alone, my fists clenched in anger.

“I’m sorry, Papa,” I whispered, the tension leaving me once the black cars drove away. “I should have listened to you.” He’d tried so hard to make me leave before Francesco got his claws into me. He never wanted the mafia life for me. But I’d been young, arrogant, and foolish.

A figure caught my eye. An old woman, hunched as she moved slowly near a statue of a weeping angel, holding a bunch of vibrant yellow flowers. Roses perhaps.

The figure disappeared, and I forgot about her, my thoughts consumed with memories of my father. Him playing football with me as a child, helping me with my math homework (despite his best efforts, I always found math difficult).

He’d done his best to be a good father, despite the life choices he made.

“I’ll miss you.” A tear threatened to break free, but I wiped it away with a damp sleeve and turned to leave. Now was not the time to grieve for my father. I needed to find a way to end Francesco first.

“I’ll miss him too,” a soft voice said, making me jump. When I spun around, the old woman I’d seen a short while ago stood facing me. Only she wasn’t old at all.

The small, stooped figure stood up straight and removed the shapeless hat and shawl.

“Thea, what the fuck are you doing here?”

5

Landon

Thea had been gone for a week. Unsurprisingly, we were all slowly unraveling. Kyril was spending way too much time in the sub-basement gym, beating the shit out of Ronan and Conal. Cassian had gone into planning mode, and Milo hadn’t left his room since we’d found out about the baby.

It occurred to me I ought to check on him, seeing as how we were harem-mates now. But what was the point? She’d left us. The harem was no more. Thea had been the tether holding our little fucked-up family together. Losing her had sent us all into a tailspin.

Sure, she’d probably be fine. Or so Dario said. But I knew better. My little wifey needed us, even if she wasn’t ready to accept it.

I poured another finger of whiskey. Declan’s shit wasn’t half bad. Not as good as shit from our distillery - or rather my father’s, seeing as how I was no longer his son and heir - but pretty good, nonetheless.

“You’re going to need a new fucking liver soon,” Kyril advised from the kitchen, his hair wet from the shower.

“And?”

“NHS waiting lists are ridiculous, so you might die first.”

I grunted and drained the glass. Why wasn’t I drunk? I should be off my face by now. Maybe Declan’s shit wasn’t as good as I thought. Or I’d built up a tolerance. Yes, that was it. If I switched to a different spirit, or mixed my drinks like mama always warned me not to, then perhaps I’d pass out sooner.

“I’m off to the club to talk to some new people.”

Kyril was way too moody for my liking. As a deeply depressed person, I craved the company of shiny, happy people. He wasn’t either of those things.

Ronan and Conal were way more fun.

“You should probably sober up first.”

“Being sober is overrated.” I belched and scratched my balls. Should I change? Nah. My clothes were clean.Kind of. It wasn’t like I planned to get laid. “Besides, I’m depressed. Drinking is my coping mechanism.”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I’m not pathetic. I’m depressed, remember?”

“Getting drunk isn’t helping.”

I shrugged. “I drink and you kill people. We all have our ways of dealing with shit.” He’d offered to help Declan clean up one of his nightclubs, where a rival gang had been pushing low-quality drugs cut with dangerous additives. It was why Declan had let us stay in this apartment. That and the stupid amounts of money Cass was paying in ‘rent’.

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