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“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.
“Who’s that?” Ollie asks on the line, and my dad switches the phone to speaker so I can hear clearer.
“My kid.”
“Sean—”
“I trust him.”
“Is he alone?”
My dad nods to me. “You alone?”
“Yeah,” I lie, knowing Oscar and Farrow will be close by wherever I go. They’re my tail.
“You don’t want to be a part of this, Sean,” Ollie cautions. “This isn’t gonna be good for either of you.”
“He’s right,” my dad tells me. “They’ll set you up and take you down with them. The damage is already done—”
“No,” I cut in. “They have Luna.”
“The daughter of the rich prick who hates you?” He frowns. “So?” Then he sees my torn expression. He takes an agonizing beat before speaking to his cousin. “Tell me where they are, Ollie.”
He sighs. “This is a mistake.”
“Where are they?”
“The place where you and I first got high.”
No address I can plug in or text to the team. A place I know nothing about.
“Thanks,” my dad says.
“Bye, Sean.” It sounds like a solemn, forever goodbye.
After they hang up, I tell him, “You don’t have to come with me. Just give me the address.”
He shakes his head. “I just got you back. If you go in there alone, I don’t know what they’d do to you. They don’t all like you. So you want to see her; you need me.”
Can I trust him? Before this, I’d say barely and not at all. Now, I’d say, I do. Unrelentingly and almost undoubtedly, I do. Don’t know why exactly. It’s more feeling than logic, but feelings can betray you.
I wonder if it’s because he’s my only shot at finding her. I have to trust him. There is no other path. No other way to Luna.
There’s no time to argue. “Alright. Take me to her.”
He leads the way, and as soon as we exit the bathroom, my head snaps to the TV screen. A breaking news story has replaced hockey.
“…again, we have limited information,” the news anchor says over helicopter footage of the smashed rental car and dead-end road. “But it’s confirmed that Lily Calloway has been hospitalized after an assault in Center City. It’s unclear whether this was a mugging or a targeted attack. We also don’t know which of her children were present with Lily at the time of the assault…but okay, we have more breaking news to report. We’ve just received graphic photos of the scene with Lily Calloway. Please remember, these are graphic and should be viewed with caution.”
Don’t air them.
“Don’t air them,” I mutter out loud. “Why are they gonna fuckin’ air them?”
My dad watches me twist away from the TV as soon as the first brutal image hits the screen. He tells me, “There’s how they got paid.”
The money. They took photos of Lily and sold them to their journalist connection. Did the journalist also know they were the ones who beat her up? Were they okay with that?
“Why would they take Luna?” I ask him.
His gaze darkens. “I dunno. Honestly, I don’t.”
I can’t waste time. “Let’s go.” I hurry, and on our way outside, he tells the bouncer to man the bar for a few hours. Then we’re on the curb. A motorcycle peels down the slick road. Rain has stopped.
“You bring a car?” he asks.
“No.”
“We’ll walk then. It’s not too far.”
I stay at his side, the chill biting my arms. “You have an easy out,” I say to him. “You don’t need to help me more than you already have.” I’ve never known him to be selfless.
He stuffs his hands in his jacket and glances over at me, our strides quick and lengthy. “Despite whatever I’ve done, whatever you think of me, I didn’t set out to be a dad who abandons his son. Maybe given the choice now, it’s not something I wanna do.”
