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22
PAUL DONNELLY
The Rhino isan old relic of 80s hedonism. Think some famous hair metal bands used to frequent this spot in its heyday. Dollar bills are stapled to the ceiling rafters, and regulars graffitied the walls with pen and Sharpie.
I see him.
He’s behind the bar, absentmindedly wiping a beer glass and glancing at the only TV screen. Hockey is airing. I walk past a couple brawny guys playing pool, the only other people here. Billiard balls clink together in the quiet, but I hear my heartbeat hammering.
He sees me and stops wiping. “Paul.” His lips rise, then fall. “What’s wrong?”
“I texted. You didn’t answer.” I rest my elbows on the bar, stiff as can be. “I need to talk to you fast. It’s important.”
He’s digging in his pocket, unearthing his phone. “Shit, I had it on silent.” He frowns at the phone screen, then calls out to the other men. “You boys need a refill, help yourself. I’ve gotta take care of something for a sec.”
They nod. “Thanks, Sean.”
“This way,” he tells me.
I follow my dad into the one-stall, one-urinal bathroom. Smells like piss, and the mirror is fully covered with band stickers.
“Don’t bullshit me,” I start off, my chest rising and falling. “Who took her? Where is she?”
“Whoa,whoa.” He raises his hands. “You need to rewind, son. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on here.” Concern flares in his blue eyes. “Who took who?”
“You really know nothing?” I can’t believe that. “You’re not on the periphery.”
“Periphery? When did you start using words like…periphery?” He acts like it’s gross. Being book smart and all, and I don’t have time to play dumb with him. Or point out how he still hardly knows me.
I shift my weight. “You’ve gotta be in touch with someone who’s involved.”
“Involved withwhat?” He looks me up and down. “I can’t help you unless you’re honest with me.”
“Lily Calloway was jumped tonight, and someone took her daughter.”
His face plummets. “They didn’t…Jesus.” He takes out his phone again.
“You know something?”
He has trouble looking me in the eye. “I know Flynn and Hugh’s kids have been talking to some shady ass journalist at some media firm.”
“Why?”
“For the money. They’re two degrees from those families through you, and they couldn’t give a shit about burning your career alive.” Flynn and Hugh are Uncle Raff’s sons. That side of the family isn’t warm towards anyone related to Uncle Bobby(my grandpop), which includes me, my dad, Scottie.
“Why would they hurt Lily though?” I ask him.
He doesn’t answer. Just puts his phone to his ear. “Ollie—” Long pause. “Are they fucking insane?”
I strain my ears to hear Ollie’s reply. “…I can’t control my brother any more than you can yours. Roark is all over the damn place. Now he’s got his stupid son roped into this mess with Raff’s grandsons. They’re not gonna come out of it this time, Sean. Just stay away.”
My dad stares right at me, tensing.
He has to help me. He can’t hang up. I mouth,where is she?
He hesitates.
“Where is she?” I almost yell.
