Page 5 of Of Sinners & Salvation
Halfway across campus, I slow, then sit on the rim of the fountain where I sat waiting for her just yesterday, a thousand years ago. I stay there until the sun sets, then until darkness falls, so I can pretend a little longer.
two
The Angel
“How sure are you that the two incidents are related?” Dad asks, sitting down across from me.
We’re in one of the big corner booths at the Downtown Diner, and Mom’s seating people on the other side of the room to give us the space and privacy we need. I didn’t even let Saint come—not only am I too pissed to even look at the guy, but this is Crossbones business.
“Not one hundred percent,” I admit. “But my gut tells me they are. And Heath wasn’t in a bad place. He had to have seen something or been forced to do it.”
“You think they made him cut his own wrist?” Seraphim asks. “That’s fucked.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “But he wouldn’t try to kill himself over nothing.”
“If he saw them take Mercy, and he couldn’t stop it, would that have been enough?” Maverick asks.
“Maybe,” I say. “After losing his sister like that…”
I glance at him as I swirl my fries around in ketchup on my plate. He gives nothing away. Not a hint of how he feels about being a part of her last moments, not a hint that he’s connected this to his recent revelations.
I shove the fries into my mouth. “It’s gotta be on his mind, with us digging into it. It’s gotta be hard on him.”
“And she’s been asking around about Frederick?” Uncle Maddox asks, absently rubbing the back of his scarred hand.
“We all had,” I admit. “Which is why I might need to pay him a little visit.” I hold up a hand before they can protest. “I know, I know. But I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You are to him,” Dad says.
Fish-Face Freddy has been leading the Crossbones since Dad and my uncle were my age. I’ve heard the stories about the reclusive legend since I was a kid—the extravagant parties he threw back in the 90s that sound like the Faulkner equivalent of Diddy parties, where he’d have everyone from gangsters eager to prove their worth to state senators to aspiring Miss Arkansas contestants in attendance; the number of enemies he’s made disappear in plain sight; the creative ways he’s gotten away with his crimes.
As he got older, he retreated from the spotlight, rarely receiving guests let alone hosting parties, and giving up his aspirations of turning the Skull and Crossbones into a new mafia empire with hands in the pockets of everyone important in the state. Now he chooses to be feared rather than adored, and instead of spending on lavish parties, to accumulate wealth and buy vacation homes around the country, and, if rumors are to be believed, an underground bunker somewhere in a remote area of Montana or Wyoming.
“And that’s why I came to you,” I say to my dad and my uncle. “I’m a kid to him, even if I’m your kid. I’m not afraid of what he’ll do to me. I don’t think he’ll see me at all.”
They glance at each other. “You should be afraid of him,” Dad says. “Even a family like ours, who stuck with the organization for over twenty years, can fall from grace in his eyes.”
“You know what to say to him by now,” I insist. “You can make him listen. You’re high up.”
“And the higher we climb, the more dangerous we are to him,” Maddox says. “Which is, in turn, more dangerous for all of you.”
He nods at the four of us—me and Seraphim, Maverick and Mad Dog.
“I don’t care,” I say. “I’m going to get Mercy, and if that means pissing him off and losing whatever protection our name gives me, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I love her. I have to find her.”
Dad and his brother exchange a look. Most of the guys their age have left the life, faded out when they got jobs and didn’t have time for gangbanging or had kids and didn’t want to risk leaving them without a parent.Theystayed, and we were all raised knowing the rules without having to be taught, like that we always call it an organization, not a gang, to outsiders, and that you never, ever disrespect a guy without expecting payback—especially Fish-Face Freddy.
“Okay,” Dad says at last. “I understand. I’ll set it up.”
“We’ll go too,” Maverick says, popping a tater tot into his mouth.
“That won’t be necessary,” Maddox says.
“I’ll go with them,” Dad says. “You sit this one out.”
I know what that means. He’s not sure we’ll make it out of that meeting alive.
Dad and Uncle Maddox never do dangerous shit together because they have some pact that if something happens to one of them, the other will take care of his family.
