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“No, I only remember him taking me and driving me around in his car until he took me back,” She got this horror-stricken look on her face, “Tommy we’re not, oh my god, we’re not siblings are we? Is your Dad---”

“No.” I told her, “You’ve got O’Connor’s eyes, no doubt about it; that man is your father.”

She was quiet for a few minutes, eyes looking active, like she was combing through details of her memories.

“I don’t know if my father killed your mother. I’m trying to find out. There’s shit to sort out about my own mother’s death, about your mother, your uncle, lots of shit.”

She sipped her water and looked at me.

“You heard my father’s best friend was your mother’s older brother. His daughter, your cousin, Bianca, married to Nino, Nino who came to Vegas with us.”

She looked shocked.

“So, I grew up with your first cousin. She’s my age.”

Tia was flabbergasted, “I know no one from my mother’s side.”

“Your Uncle Joe, a man I called Uncle Joe all my life, he died in a car crash. Some said my father staged it over a business dispute. I’ve heard it over the years but never believed it.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Earl told me he flipped on our family and took you because he found out my father had his son Michael killed because Michael was about to expose him for being involved in a meth op. If that’s true, Pop kept it from me and Dare. Earl said he didn’t wanna hurt me but saw red and wanted back at my father. Castillo made promises, promised to deliver Pop to Earl for revenge down in Mexico and Castillo chose you as the tool.”

I reached for her water and she passed it to me. I took a swig and continued,

“I hear that my Pop may have killed your mother alone and I’d never believe it. Your father, zero credibility. But that you remember him taking you and that he picked you for me, and the other shit that’s unfolding,” I shook my head, “I have a lot to figure out.”

She blew a long breath out and put a palm over her forehead.

“You okay?” I reached for her. I half expected her to pull away but she didn’t. She climbed onto my lap and put her head on my shoulder and her arms around the middle of my back.

“Don’t know. Are you?” she asked.

“If I have you, I will be.” I said and she gave me a squeeze.

Tia

“Tell me about your family,” I said to him, “About your childhood, about your Pop, about the business.” I suddenly wanted everything on the table.

He leaned back against the headboard and let me settle against him, put his chin on my head.

“My mother died of Cancer. I was just a little kid. Spent a lot of time by her bedside as she was dying and she said a lot of fucked up shit. Shit a little kid shouldn’t hear. I think it went to her brain before she died. Pop was out running the business, it was around then that the business started to really flourish. He was raking in money hand over fist and my Ma was in bed dying a slow and painful death. A few months later he married Dare, Tessa, and Luciana’s ma. The math didn’t jive so I figured out later that that she, Annette, had Dare before my Ma died. They showed up and moved in after Ma died; Dare was a toddler and she was pregnant with Tess. They divorced a couple years later but Pop kept all the kids. She lives in Italy. Comes by every year but not much of a relationship. I get the impression that’s the way Pop wants it. Pop’s third wife died in a car crash. Maybe he killed her, too.

She was a bitch and now I think it wouldn’t surprise me. All the fucking car crashes, huh? All my life he had such high expectations of me and my brother. We work to earn his respect on a continuous basis; it has a short shelf life. He pushes and pushes us and is always testing our loyalty. I got to a point where I wouldn’t let him push me. I started to show him before he had to push. Now I have all this to figure out. If this is who he really is, how do I live with that? I know we’ve ordered people dead. But they’re enemies, not family, not innocent. I’ve practically run the business the last few years. I handle a lot of the legit stuff and some of the shadier shit, too, and Dare and I have plans on how to get shot of the shadier stuff because we just don’t need it. We have money, we have power, and we do well. We know where to focus to boost earnings even more and without the risk, without having to pay people off, without worrying that the house of cards’ll tumble down at any minute. When Pop retires, we have a plan, a good one. I know I’m not the ice cream shop guy, baby, but I’m planning for a better life for us.”

“You are better than the ice cream guy.” I told him. He looked so distraught right now, “You’re real, Tommy. You’re a man with many layers and the fact that you’re looking for the truth even if it’s not what you want to hear? That’s huge. The ice cream guy probably wouldn’t have rescued me from Mexico, probably wouldn’t have done a lot of the things you’ve done. He was two dimensional. I’m here with you; not him.”

“The shit I’ve done that’s hurt you. That’s hurt others.” He looked lost, “I’m Thomas Ferrano Jr. Maybe the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me. I’m his son. It’s so fucking fucked up, baby. He goes from being a philanthropist so doing this fucked up shit. He’s hiding behind the charity, the talk about family, about loyalty.”

I threw my arms around him and squeezed. I had an ache spread through me, an aching desire to help him. His pain was palpable.

“Will you tell me about the necklace?” I whispered.

He let out a big sigh and then finished my bottle of water, “It was my mothers. One of the last lucid talks I remember with her she put it around my neck and told me that if I wore it I’d remember to be a good boy. Maybe she knew the apple wouldn’t fall far, too. Some of the shit she said, warned me about, it was all riddles to me but now, I think she hated my Pop when she died and knew I’d probably turn out like him. Sometimes she screamed at me like I was him, told me why she hated me. I think when she was afraid for me and what I’d become without her to guide me. When I have to make hard decisions that I know she wouldn’t have approved of, I can’t wear it.”

“You’ve been having a lot of epiphanies.” I said softly.

“Yeah,” he said, “Never told anyone this shit, babe.” He shook his head, then rolled his eyes.

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