Page 5 of Loyalty

“What now?” he demanded.

Gio rapped his fingers to the leather-bound steering wheel. “Just to be sure that you’re not going to have a relapse the moment you’re out and free to do your own thing, Dante and Lucian decided that it would be better if you worked alongside Andino and Timothy with their crews for a while.”

Anger surged through John like he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was good. So fucking good. Like a shot of adrenaline straight to his bloodstream.

But that feeling was also addictive and bad for him. Bad for his mania and bad for the bipolar currents of his emotions that he fought with daily. He wasn’t that crazy, out of control, unmanageable person. He got that his behavior and issues had put his family and la famiglia through hell, but he was good.

Wasn’t he?

Now?

Did his family not trust him?

Christ.

It pissed him off even more.

“Just to be clear, I don’t get a say here, right?” John asked.

Gio shrugged. “No, you don’t.”

Because that’s how Cosa Nostra worked, and his family was knee-deep in that life and culture. Nobody could possibly begin to understand their life. With his uncle being the head boss of the family, his other uncle acting as Dante’s consigliere, and John’s own father being the family underboss, there was no escaping who he was.

Mafia.

Made.

Cosa Nostra.

When it came to family decisions, especially ones made about him, John didn’t get a bone in the fight. His uncles pulled rank, as did his father.

Rules.

His life was dictated, surrounded, and determined by rules.

John stifled the familiar urge to push back against the walls closing in on him again. They were only in his own mind, after all.

“There’s something else I have to do this week,” John said, dropping the conversation. He didn’t want to fight with his uncle about something that neither of them could do anything about at the moment. “I should do it tomorrow, but I need some contacts.”

Gio cocked a brow and passed John a look. “What is that?”

“I need a new therapist. One that my father doesn’t have on his payroll.”

“John—”

“I’ll follow his fucking rules and give him what he wants, but he’s not having control over that. Not now. It’s been three years since my last episode. Give me a fucking break here. I’ve earned that, Gio.”

“You were wrong,” Gio said quietly.

“About what?”

“Your father. He did give you a choice, John. You know he did.”

John forced back his irritation. “Leave it alone.”

“He gave you a choice. An institution to get yourself checked out and settled, or time behind bars. You made the choice, John, not Lucian.”

“I’m not crazy,” John said.