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I nodded and told him to have a good night. He said it back and then hopped out, heading down the street.
I watched him go, the snow starting to fall, and wondered if Slinky would be so calm if he knew I was the Reaper’s son. Very few people knew, even within our family, although it still seemed incredible to me. Somehow my father had been meticulous in keeping me a secret from the world. He was too cruel and irritated, finding me a disappointment of monumental proportions, but at least the Reaper’s pride and arrogance had kept me safe. Ty had continued to protect me from anyone that would want to kill me merely for being Sal’s offspring, so he had created a past for me, the cousin from Sicily.
Or maybe Slinky had let all that go. Maybe he’d tried to forgive and forget.
Stranger things had happened.
And maybe I could find a way to make it up to him, as I watched him go inside a dilapidated triple-decker.
Maybe I could let go of the sins of my father and find peace.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Zakary
Sara had been out sick part of last week and then yesterday, too. Watching her now, sipping on a coffee and staring out the windows at the city, she did seem a bit pale. There were circles under her eyes and her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, rather than down. I shook my head, resisting the urge to go over to her and say,see, this is why you shouldn’t work. You’re ruining your looks—don’t you know that you have a shelf life?
At that moment, the burner phone in my pocket, which Hendrix had given to me to call Sal, and had never rung before, emitted a loud ringtone. I jumped out of my skin, as did Sara. She whipped around and spotted me. Her lip curled as she shot me a warning glare that made my blood boil, and I watched her walk away, her head held up high, squeezing the phone.
I almost didn’t pick up in time as I hastily answered, thinking it was Hendrix.
Instead, a rough voice with a thick Boston accent said, “Pick up faster next time, dumbass.” I gaped in silence. Sal Michaelson had called me. “Christ, Hendrix said you were smart. Knew I shouldn’t have trusted him. He hasn’t half the goddamn gumption of his old man.”
The voice had such a coldness prowling through it that I found myself second-guessing Hendrix’s gumption, too. This wasn’t the ranting man that I’d talked to before, he was precise and alert, with a savagery that coated every breath.
Still, I heard myself say, “I mean he orchestrated this.”
“Broken clock is right twice a day,” he retorted. “And don’t be cute. I don’t care if you’re a civilian, you respect me you little shit—or else.”
Even though the man was half a thousand miles away in a Federal prison, I found myself quaking a little bit, and saying a rushed, “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy,” he said. “You learn faster than my useless offspring.” Now he let out a hacking, rough smoker’s cough, and some of the fanatic that I’d spoken to last time came through. “Managed to find a little cuckoo bird to take pity on him, huh? I guess there really is someone for everyone.”
I glanced in the direction Sara had gone. “She’s confused.”
“Damn right, what bitch isn’t? Anyway, to business. I’ve been thinking your situation over and there’s only one solution.”
“I appreciate that,” I said. “Anything I can—”
“You’re going to get me out of prison so I can finally kill my son.”
At that moment, Sara walked by again, lost in thought, and even though I had no proof, no sign, I knew she was thinking of Daniel. Ugly rage erupted in my heart and I smirked at her when she glanced over and did a double-take.
“Sounds good, sir,” I said. “Tell me what I need to do.”
Sal let out a rasping chuckle. “Good man,” he said. “First, you’re gonna have to be patient. It’s gonna take some time, but we’ll get there in the end.”
Watching Sara walk away, her round ass hugged by that pencil skirt, and remembering the heft of the golf club that Hendrix had handed to me, my smile widened.
“I’ve got all the time in the world, sir. I’m at your disposal.”
“First, I need you to reach out to Cole Hendrix,” he said. “That’s Caleb’s brother. Don’t let Caleb know that—he gets paranoid about his brother. But that kid is our best bet for pulling this offand getting our hands on blueprints for this goddamn hellhole I’m in.”
“How do I get his number?” I asked.
“Figure it out,” Sal barked. “Christ. Next, I need you to figure out where Daniel lives.”
“Already taken care of, sir.” I paused and then offered, “I might be able to get those blueprints.”
