Page 29 of The Devil's Saint

The man I used to fear became insignificant the minute I watched him duck under the bar at the castle with his tail between his legs like a fucking coward as soon as the gunfight started. He didn’t even try to fight back. Not once. He shoved Owl and Chains out to do his fighting for him while his father bled out on the cold stone floor and his family was getting shot at.

Jim’s voice pulls me from my thoughts and back to the present moment, instructing that I follow him after we pass security checks. He doesn’t need to show me. I’ve been to this prison to see my father more times than I can count growing up.

“Wait here,” Jim instructs as he talks to the guard at the front desk.

“WHAT?” Jim yells. “What do you mean bail has been revoked? Revoked by who?”

Jim’s face turns red with anger, and my ears strain to hear what’s said. Sweat breaks out on Jim’s forehead as he approaches.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Jim explains the reason bail has been revoked. Apparently, someone has come forward to say they witnessed Eric shooting into the crowd, provoking retaliation.

“Who?” I ask, my voice edged with threat.

“I don’t know yet, but if this person is testifying against your father, they’re likely already in protective custody.”

Fuck sake. A witness? This is all I need.

“I need to talk to him. Today,” I demand. “I don’t care how you need to do it. Just get it done.”

After several tense minutes, the guard makes a call.

“This way,” the guard instructs, leading us through a labyrinth of white-colored hallways until we arrive at a small conference room. Finally, the door swings open. There he is, the great disappointment, Eric fucking Garo, wearing the familiar orange jumpsuit that looks more like medical scrubs. His hands are cuffed, and his feet shackled. The prison officer pushes him back roughly against a wall and then releases him from his bonds.

My dad rubs his wrists and sneers, “You’ll pay for that.”

The guard remains unfazed. “You have ten minutes.”

Jim stands to greet my dad with his hand outstretched. “Mr. Garo.”

I snort. Mr. Garo. Like he’s someone to respect. Any respect I had for the man left the minute he tried to run from that castle with his tail between his legs when all hell was breaking loose.

A chair scrapes along the floor when he pulls one out on the opposite side, clasping his hands together. Somehow, the color makes him look older than he is.

Jim wastes no time bringing him up to speed about the witness who has just come forward.

“I’m aware,” is the first thing my father says after several tense minutes.

“The cops came around this morning to question me and Caleb about our whereabouts last night.”

“And they bought it?”

“Not at first. Then Kelly confirmed it with them, collaborating on our story. They took her word for it.”

“Good.”

“Are you aware that granddad's dead?” I reminded him in case he’d forgotten. I know things have always been strained between them, but I thought he would have at least expressed some kind of emotions over his own father’s death! Doesn’t he care?

“Yeah.” That’s all he says -fucking yeah. I wonder if he’d spoken the same when he learned about my mom and brother. He disgusts me.

“I had to identify his body this morning. What remained of it anyway. Jono’s also dead.”

His cold, dead eyes shift to mine, unbothered. “Not much I can do about it from in here. Send Caleb to deal with this witness bastard. You can join him once you’ve buried your grandfather. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I’m out of here. Then I’ll deal with things my way.”

I lazily sit back in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you know who did this?”

“I have a good idea.”

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