Page 271 of Bossy Hero

Once I hang up, I’m struck with a sense of contentment so profound that it’salmostjarring. A soul-cleansing rush of oxygen flees me, making my shoulders and spine sag.

I asked him to call me Alan. Willingly.

And I didn’t get queasy or angry. There was no brewing rage or underlying sadness.

It was comfortable. Normal.

Wonders will never cease.

Before we drifted off to sleep last night, Maddie asked me about Daniel.

It was difficult to talk about his death. Yet it was also so damn freeing. Each word that fell from my mouth carried with it another layer of guilt and anguish.

This morning, when I woke, the persistent ache of his loss no longer festered under my ribs.

I lean back in my chair, prop my elbows on the armrests, and stare unseeing into the distance. For a while, I simply exist, letting my mind wander anywhere it wants to go.

Try as I might, I can’t recall experiencing such a bone-deep contentment. Over the years, I periodically experienced lesser versions, often when things were calm at Redleg. And in quiet moments with Maddie, I found tranquility.

Sadly, it never lasted.

All it took was a text or a phone call to send me back into operator mode. The looming sense of dread was never far.

It’s gone now, though.

There are no emergencies or danger. No fires to put out or mile-long to-do lists. And for the first time in what feels like ages, vengeance isn’t driving me. Neither is guilt over my brother.

Deep in my gut, there’s only peace and happiness.

I feared I’d never see the day when our battle with the bratva would be in the rearview. It’s like a chapter coming to an end. With it comes another type of ending.

It’s time to say goodbye to Redleg and pass it on to the next generation.

I’ll get to know my daughter. Do some traveling with Maddie.

And live.

Live for ourselves and each other. And for our family.

My vision slowly comes into focus, my eyes landing on the gift box Maddie brought in. I almost forgot about it.

Reaching across my desk, I tug it over and untie the long blue ribbon. When I remove the box’s lid, my eyes bulge.

A wave of nostalgia flutters over my skin.

That thoughtful little trickster. Maddie didn’t pick this up when she was out, as if it were a toaster or gallon of milk. This is a damn care package.

I riffle through the snacks and goodies filling the top layer. Animal crackers, Black Rifle Coffee, sunblock, lip balm, beef jerky, and more.

My memory isn’t the steel trap it was, but this looks almost identical to the first package she sent me all those years ago. With the damn cock socks and crocheted soldier—Little Al.

Silent laughter shakes my shoulders.

Below the snacks and sundries is a thick layer of tissue paper that covers a slew of small gift-wrapped items. There’s also a note in Maddie’s handwriting.

Open them in order. xo

Grabbing the present with the number one written on it, I tear into the paper. A one-note laugh rattles my chest. The recent appearance of Maddie’s crocheting supplies makes sense now.

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