Page 73 of Wild Card
“Dad visited,” I say.
“Did he?”
I nod, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. It’s going to hurt to say this next part out loud.
“He was angry at me. I guess Birdie’s having nightmares.” I start crying again. “Callan, he said it happened because I’d go home with anyone, but that’s not true. Why does he think that about me? Why doesn’t he care that I could’ve died? That I almost did? I’m having nightmares, too. Horrible ones where you didn’t come for me and…”
I stop myself from saying the rest. I can’t do it. I haven’t been this vulnerable with Callan since we were little kids. Callan’s always been cool and calm and melting down in front of him is humiliating. And I’m so tired.
Gio’s heavy hand rests on my back. I can see the pain in my brother’s face as he tries to figure out what to say.
“Never mind.” I do my best to swallow my tears. “Never mind. I’m sorry. I’ll be back to myself soon. It’s just been hard.”
Back to hiding myself behind my public persona. It’s lonely, but it hurts less.
“I’m not good with this sort of thing,” Callan says, moving closer. “It’s not that I don’t care that he hurts you. I do care, Catty. I hate how he’s too short sighted and stupid to see what a wonderful person you are. I hate how he tears you down and tries to tell you about yourself when he knows nothing about any of us.”
My breath catches in my throat. Callan takes my hand.
“He’ll get what he deserves.”
Coming from anyone else, that would sound like Callan giving my father up to karma, but Callan doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in making things happen.
“Thank you,” I whisper. It must have been hard for Callan to say all that. It’s an act of caring that helps ease the raw hurt I’m feeling now. “I’m not going home anymore. To the house in Back Bay, I mean. I never want to see him again, except if I have to at weddings and funerals.”
“I understand.”
He knows I don’t blame him or any of our siblings for still returning. We all have our reasons for staying or going, and they’re all valid in their own way.
“Thank you for coming for me.”
I haven’t been able to voice that until now.
“Leaving you behind was never an option, Catty. For any of us.”
Us. Me and my siblings. Not our parents.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Gio says. “I knew you’d be concerned about Freddie’s allies looking for revenge?”
Callan’s gaze drifts to Gio.
“You’re not a man who leaves loose ends untied,” Gio continues.
People don’t usually read Callan so well. I wonder if he finds it unsettling.
“Freddie would’ve been in trouble anyway, if he were still alive, that is, because of what happened with my grandmother.”
I register Callan’s confusion. It’s barely perceptible but I can read it. I don’t blame him. The complex rules of the Italian mafia are different from the Irish ones.
“But it turns out he’d been bilking his allies out of quite a bit of money. After his death, his account books got the scrutiny they’d been lacking. Not a good way to convince people to honor your memory. His family had to leave the city.”
Gio looks guilty about that, but it is what it is. Life is complicated.
“Thank you for telling us,” Callan says. “I hope it helps with Bridget’s nightmares.”
“Patrick had asked about his involvement in human trafficking,” Gio continues. “From what I was able to find, Freddie was a solitary, low-level contact for a bigger ring that the FBI is working on taking down. The other families in the area aren’t interested in that kind of business.”
If things had gone differently for me and Bridget…the thought makes me shudder. Callan squeezes my hand. It’s the most affection I’ve gotten from him in a very long time. I know a lot has happened to make him closed off. We all find different ways to survive.
