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“Take her too.”
Junebug hollered out, “You do not want to do this, Kingpin.”
“Junebug, you're out. I don't want to see you at Royal Road again. If Memphis had anything to do with this, she'll be out too. You're out bad. You show your ugly face again. If I get a whiff of you. I’ll burn the property patch off you, myself.”
I was letting Junebug go so she’d run to the Getty’s, and I’d have my proof. Of what? I wasn’t exactly sure. I wasn’t about to question Goliath anymore in front of her, hoping he hadn’t betrayed me too.
Maybe he was also playing her.
“Brothers. You know what to do with Goliath.”
Riff spoke up. “What exactly is he guilty of again?”
Fuck. Riff. I’d just told him. Was he questioning me?
“Ralph said Junebug and whoever she shacked up with are in bed with the mob.”
Goliath swore, “We're not. That's bullshit.”
“We'll see,” I said, motioning them to take him away.
Riff clarified, “So, hold him until church.”
“Yeah. Hold him until your President tells you what to do. Shackle him up in the barn. And inform Pagan so this is done correctly. You’re back to being Road Captain.”
Rift scowled.
“Levi. You're with me. We're gonna go watch my dear old dad die.”
Chapter 18
Kingpin
When Levi and I made it to the hospital my brother sat outside of the ICU. Hanging his head, he clutched his cowboy hat in his hands like he was holding on for dear life.
Tears ran down his hairless, baby face.
Pussy.
Bubba’s voice creaked. “You’re too late. He's gone, Beau. You can go in there and see for yourself. Funeral home’s coming to take the body soon.”
I stood immobile, staring at the door. The door that led to my dead father's body. Did I even want to go in there?
Hell, leaving Levi with my brother, I pushed open the door. I went in alone. I'd wanted to see the man suffer, suffer as much as he made me suffer, but now he looked nothing but peaceful. A warm feeling spread all over me, peace and sorrow rolled into one. I fought any sense of remorse.
However, I was always happiest when my father was sleeping. He couldn’t hurt me then. The old man just looked like he slept. I hadn't seen him in so long. Hardly recognized him. But I did all the same. He hadn't changed all that much. He'd aged. He was thinner, baggier, and covered in age spots. But he was the same old bastard who gambled my youth, my childhood away for a bigger paycheck. The bastard who left me high and dry when his chickens came to roost.
I pushed it down, my feelings of grief. Thought about all the atrocities I suffered at this man's hands, instead. And I still couldn't muster the hatred toward him. I’d always felt I’d be happy if he were dead. My eyes welled up with tears. I blinked them a few times.
Fuck.
What was wrong with me? I was a mess. Crying like a fucking woman over a man who treated me like shit. Kingpin deserved it but the boy I’d been, Beau hadn’t. I wiped my eyes with my thumbs, hoping no one saw me through the tiny window leading to the hall. Took a tissue too, to dry my face even better.
“Well, he's dead all right,” I said to Bubba when I stepped out.
“Do you want to know what he died of?”
“No, I’m sure you made sure everything was done right. That they did all they could for him.”
