Page 133 of Prodigal Son

A very, very,verybad idea.

Pain exploded through him, bright and breath-stealing. Ribs, head, back, hips – everywhere. His grip slackened, and Devin managed to crawl forward and twist around. Albie tightened his hands into fists at the cuffs of his pants and held on for dear life, gulping air, broken bones in his arm screaming.

Behind him, he heard running footfalls, and bless Simon Cavendish when he skidded to a halt and said, “Don’t move.”

Devin put his gloved hands up, to show they were empty, gaze pinging between them, wild as a spooked horse’s.

“Dad,” Albie gasped out between ragged inhales. “What happened? Where are you going?”

Devin kicked a little, testing Albie’s hold, gaze trained on Simon, the gun he had to be holding. “Well…you know. Bit of a change of plans…”

Nausea rolled through Albie, and it had nothing to do with his concussion. “What happened to the others? Where are they?”

Devin gave a sharp, impatient sigh. “They’re fine. They’re bloody great – but going off script, as always. Morris is dead.”

“What?” Albie’s fingers went lax, a shocked reflex.

Devin tried to scramble away.

Crunch of grit under Simon’s shoes as he leaned forward, and Devin paused again. “He’s doing a runner,” Simon said. “Aren’t you, Devin? You left your kids there, and you’re running away.”

“No,” Albie said, but his heart sank, because he knew…he knew…

And Devin’s little wince proved it.

They stayed there, in the wan touch of someone’s security light, and Albie breathed in and out, trying to rectify it. Justify it, maybe. He couldn’t.

“What the fuck? What the fuck,what the fuck?!” He pushed up on his hands and knees, scrabbled on top of his father, and punched him in the mouth. With his cast.

Devin grunted, softly, as the hit landed, and then reached for Albie’s face, fingers curled into claws.

“Hey!” Simon shouted.

A hand hooked in Albie’s collar, and dragged him back. His cheek stung, where Devin had scratched him.

Devin had his hands up again, but he’d made it to his knees, kneeling in the filth of the alley.

“You just left them?” Albie asked. He was shouting; he didn’t care. “What iswrongwith you? It’s not bad enough you’re the shittiest father on earth, now you have to abandon them all to die? God, Ihateyou! Go to hell, you fuckingbastard!”

The hand had moved from his collar to his shoulder, and held him steady. He was swaying, he realized. The vision in his good eye blurred.

Air stirred at the back of his neck, and then there were new hands, smaller, gripping both his shoulders from behind, and a voice, low and soothing, breath warm in his ear. “Albie, come on.” Axelle. “Let’s get back in the van.”

“You were in on this from the start, weren’t you?” Simon asked. He let go of Albie and stepped in front of him, gun still trained on Devin. “You led your own kids to slaughter. How much did they promise you? Or was it just to save your skin?”

Devin shook his head, and his gaze dropped to the ground. “No…no, it’s not like that. I can’t…”

Vivian had joined them, somehow. Albie hadn’t noticed. He could barely hold himself upright, and his eyes burned, even his bad one. Axelle’s arms slipped around him, and she held on tight. He felt sick. Everything hurt terribly. And Devin had betrayed them all. Again. He never stopped doing it.

“Get the tape,” Simon said to Vivian. “We’ll put him in the back of the van–”

“No,” Albie said.

Axelle’s arms flexed around him. “Albie–”

“I don’t want to see him ever again.” His voice was heavy with exhaustion;hewas exhausted. He thought he might slump over right here in the alley and pass out. To Devin: “You better run. You will never be welcome at any of our homes, or our clubhouse, again. If any of us catch word of you so much as looking at our mothers, we’ll kill you. You’re dead to us. Forever. There’s nothing you could say to claw your way back this time.”

Devin looked at him, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but his eyes seemed to shine, glassy with unshed tears. His voice came out rough. “I know I’m a shit father, but I’ve tried to spare you all the truth. I haven’t worked for those bastards in a long, long time, but the contract was still there. I knew it could only ever hurt all of you. That’s why I’m running, Albie.” Low and pleading. “Because there’s no way any of you can ever forgive me after tonight. I won’t try and beg, or stick around. I broke all your hearts, and now I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

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