Page 145 of Lord Have Mercy Part Four: Big Son

“But when you – left town.” That was a mild way of putting it. “And Walsh nominated me to be VP, I started thinking about opportunities. And about not wasting the ones that fell in your lap. I brokered a deal with the kid – his name’s Lewis, Lewis Parker – and his dad. Ian helped me get the paperwork sorted, and Walsh signed off on it afterward. But, basically, we own a lot more land, and the club’s in the farming business.”

Ghost’s brows went up again. “It is?”

“Yeah. And if you have a problem with that, blame it on me. Ian and Walsh helped, but this was all my idea.”

“It was?”

He stuck his chin out, defiant. “Yeah. I thought it would benefit us financially, and strategically – it got the feds’ attention, and got them to back off and actually listen to us, for once – and it’ll bring more locals onto our side. I also agreed to sponsor Lewis’s prospect year. He’s stubborn, and a better fit than I thought at first.”

Ghost watched him a minute, patient like he never was, waiting to see if there was more.

There wasn’t. Aidan shrugged, lamely, and said, “My first and only act as VP.”

Slowly, Ghost nodded. “Okay. It sounds like you put a lot of thought into it.” A kind sentiment, bordering on patronizing, and it put Aidan’s back up…

But he forced it down with a slow, deep breath. At every turn in his life, he’d met Ghost’s asshole personality with a bowed back and gnashing teeth. Defensive, petulant, whiny. He’d always felt like a fox caught in a trap, snarling at the bigger predator.

But he couldn’t do that anymore. Because now, heunderstood. At least a little. At least better.

He said, “I was VP for, what? A week? And I did the exact same thing I’ve always bitched about you doing: I made a unilateral decision about the future of the club, and presented it at table once I’d already put the deal in motion.”

For a moment, he thought Ghost would smile: the faint quirk of one corner of his mouth. But then Ghost’s face smoothed, and he said, “How’d the guys take it?”

“They were skeptical, at first. Had some questions. But they voted the right way, in the end.”

“Your way, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Aidan sighed. A headache was blooming in his temples, and he wanted a drink, and it was easy to see how Ghost had gotten in the habit of spiking his coffee with every cup. “My way. I guess I’m a lot more like you than I always thought.”

Ghost smirked, and wasn’t successful in reeling it back before Aidan saw it.

Aidan huffed. “What I’m saying is: I’m mad. Yeah. I’m pissed as hell at you for fucking off and pretending to be dead, and letting me be…”A crying, pathetic mess.“In the dark about it. For not telling anyone but Walsh.

“And Walsh, by the way? Got so stressed about it he tried to drink himself into the hospital. A real speed-run of your whole heart attack situation, so that was fun to watch.

“So I’mpissed. But I also get it. Being in charge sucks.”

Ghost studied him a long moment, and then he blinked, and then, slowly, he smiled. Not his usual shark grin, or hisgrim, close-mouthed press of satisfaction, too long delayed. No, this was a real smile, wide and shockingly free. It deepened the lines around his eyes, and pressed grooves around his mouth. He had a dimple on his left cheek Aidan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before.

A sharp, jagged pain bit somewhere deep in Aidan’s chest, like swallowing a tortilla chip that hadn’t been properly chewed. He gulped against it, and it broke loose, and moved up his throat, and his face heated, warm and tingling, eyes pricking, nose burning.

In a choked voice that he hated, he said, “It’s not fair, what you did. You’ve never been fair to me.”

Ghost’s smile softened, lips closing, but it didn’t go away, and there was a brightness in his coffee-dark eyes that Aidan couldn’t look away from, though he desperately wanted to.

“I’ve tried really hard, my whole life, to hate you,” Aidan said.

“I know.”

“And I really,reallyought to hate you right now.”

“I know,” Ghost repeated, and he sounded wistful. He stood. “Come here.”

No, he thought.No, I don’t want to. Except there was no stopping the straightening of his legs, nor the opening of his arms, and when he leaned over the back of the pew, and Ghost leaned forward, and crushed him up into a hug that went tight, and then gentle, one hand cupped to the back of Aidan’s head, the sharp knot in his throat proved to be a sob, and Ghost stroked his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Ghost murmured, over and over. “I love you. I’mproudof you. And I’m sorry.”

It rained and rained on New Orleans, but under cathedral ceilings, and the acoustic tiles of hospital rooms, wounds began to heal.

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