Page 43 of Montana Falls
Yeah, children aside, there was no way I was letting him say that without a response.
“You’re grieving, so I’m going to let your stupid threats slide for this conversation. But I suggest that you learn how to be polite and apologize for threatening me.” I stepped forward, giving him my best Montana glare, dark enough to make him flinch. “You seem to be forgetting that you are almost an O’Malley yourself. And I sure as fuck have no qualms slaughtering the lot of them for fun. So keep fucking testing me and being rude and you will find out just how much like the rest of my bloodline I can be. Are we clear?”
Maybe it was the look in my eyes. Or the anger in my tone. Perhaps it was the knowledge that there truly was no love lost between our family lines and as nice as I would try to be, I was still a Montana.
I was still inclined to shoot first, when it came to the O’Malley family tree…
Regardless, David stepped back, nodding his head.
“Apologies.” He huffed.
Ignoring him, I turned to Ares, plastering a fake smile onto my face. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” He grinned back, pretending to not notice the awkward tension between me and his father. “Let’s go do this shit.”
A few moments and an only moderately nervous elevator ride later, I’d grabbed two coffees from the small food truck outside the hotel, and sunk down on the nearby steps, pretending that I was just here for a quick check in with Ares and a casual coffee. Or at leastIwas having a casual coffee. When I handed him his drink, he slid out a flask from the pocket of his sweatpants, tipping a hefty dose into his cup.
“Whiskey?” I snorted.
“I’m fourteen in September.” He turned to me and ginned cheekily. “I’ve got drunk plenty of times before, and this won’t even make me buzzed.”
“Then why are you having it?”
“Because my mom is dead, and my dad is angry, and I’m out here baiting a madman.” He sipped his drink. “Figured now was a reasonable time to drink.”
“Fine.” There was nothing I could say to that. “That makes sense, and I won’t tell your daddy about it.”
We drank in silence for a few minutes, doing nothing but wait and pretend we were relaxed. Neither of us would be an ounce of calm, but we both did a reasonable job of faking it.
At least I did until Ares spoke.
“So how come John’s after me? How come this plan will work to lure him out?”
I stiffened up but answered his question.
“John thinks you are his son.” Ares froze, but I carried on speaking. “But this is not true. You are the biological son of your mama and daddy, and we are just leaning into his delusions to get him to show his face.”
“Why does he think that?”
“Because around the time you were born, John’s first wife was pregnant and…” I didn’t know how to word it, so I tried to avoid most of what I wanted to say. “When your mama ran away with you, the rest of your family were killed by John. And forsome reason, he now thinks that perhaps your mama stole you away from his wife. It is all nonsense stories from a madman and things not to stress about.”
“Was his first wife a gangster, too?”
“No. She was a dancer from a small Russian town.” I left out the part about her being a dancer just for fun.
Mentioning how her actual career had been something far more mental and that her intelligence had been off the charts seemed rather foolish.
“Okay.” He had some of his drink. “Why me?” He asked softly. “Why does John not think Hades is his kid?”
I shrugged and sipped my drink. “Because John thinks he had a son, that is all.”
The coffee almost turned bitter on my tongue as Ares nodded slowly, asking more questions that I probably ought to have expected.
“What happened to the baby? To my cousin?”
I paused, weighing up my words. “I don’t know for sure. The stories I hear are from what my daddy told me or is whispers in the gang world.”
“Okay, but what did you hear? What doyouthink?”
