Page 97 of Clean Slade
I do. I’ve needed it for a long time.
“What’s going on, King? Let me in. Please.” His words were so soft I almost didn’t hear them.
Because I didn’t want to.
“If I tell you, you’ll hate me.”
He pulled away and grabbed me by the shoulders.
“Look at me, King. Look at where we are. If I hated you, I wouldn’t have done all this.”
He was right. Of course he was right.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I sat down and held my head in my hands. “My name—my real name—is Tony Ferraro Jr. Tony isn’t my father-in-law. He’s my father.”
I waited for the punch, the shove, the kick, but none of them came. Instead, I felt something soft beside me, and when I looked, I found Slade with pursed lips.
“I knew there was a resemblance,” he said. “So is that it? Is that the big terrible secret?”
“Isn’t it?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know. I think I suspected. Especially after they paid a visit. The way you talked to him, to Nino—your brother, right?”
I nodded.
“Slade, I’m the son of a mobster. The biggest crimelord in New York.”
“And? No one is perfect.”
“You don’t understand. Slade, I’ve done things. I’ve done things to people.”
“We all have a past, King.”
I dug my nails into my palm and let out a growl.
“Can’t you see, Slade? I’m a murderer. I’m a criminal. I’m a monster! Stop treating me like I’m human.”
He stared at me but didn’t respond.
Maybe I’ve finally done it. Maybe I’ve finally broken through, and he knows I mean it.
“I think…” he started, crossing his fingers and taking a deep breath, and I braced myself. “I think you want me to treat you like a monster because you think you somehow deserve it, but I’m not going to do that, Tony.”
“Don’t call me that. Please.” I looked at the boat floor, the rug still spread out without a trace of what it had been hiding only moments ago, and shook my head.
“King.” He reached for my hands, and I stopped breathing. “I could never treat you like a monster because you aren’t one.”
I opened my mouth to say he was wrong, but something stopped me.
“And even if you were, I still wouldn’t care.”
I raised my eyes, slowly, carefully, as if doing it too suddenly might shatter whatever this was, and looked at him.
“Why, Slade? Why wouldn’t you care?”
He didn’t break eye contact, but he squeezed my hand a little harder.
