Page 25 of Alfie: Part One
“He won’t,” Finn replied. “Just don’t be surprised if Nessa reaches out on her own. If you’re on social media, she’ll target you there. She can get…overzealous.”
Kellan chuckled. “One brother goes to prison, another one appears.”
Finn sucked his teeth and bit into a piece of bread. “Don’t get me in a pissy mood by discussing Alec.”
“Sore topic?” I guessed.
“You can say that,” Finn grumbled. “I was in his shoes once. That’s years you don’t get back. Stupid fuckin’ punk. Liam and I warned him—we all did. Did he listen? Fuck no.”
“Neither did you at that age,” Kellan told him before shifting his gaze my way. “Speaking of social media. No Sons-related shit in public. If you one day add a syndicate tribute to your ink collection, make sure it’s covered when you post pictures. The Feds will know who you are soon enough—no need to do their job for them by confirming your affiliations.”
“Or put an extra target on your back for our threats,” Finn added. “Right now, things are peaceful, but we have eyes on a freelancing gang outta Miami looking to expand their turf, and when they realize they won’t be able to do that in New York, they might try here.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I assured. “I have an Instagram account that I keep locked, and I never post anything that can reveal sensitive information—including metadata. It’s mostly so West and I can follow what the kids are up to when it’s not our week.”
“All that’s fine, of course,” Finn said. “Emilia’s account is open, and she posts frequently—but it’s all family shit. We wanna make sure we don’t look like we’re tryna hide.”
“On that note, do you wanna be O’Dwyer or Scott?” Kellan asked. “I saw you changed your handle.”
I wanted to be Scott, but that wasn’t happening.
“O’Dwyer.”
When we came back to my house a couple hours later, Finn’s guys were in the middle of installing the automatic shutters on the first floor. Wiring had been run along the hallway to my study in the back down here, then up to the third floor where I had my bedroom. But in all fairness, I had two bedrooms. When the kids were here, I slept in my study because I didn’t want them closer to the front door than me. It was the one flaw with the floor plan. Main bedroom, a big bathroom, and the roof deck on the third floor, a guest room and the kids’ rooms with a shared bathroom on the second, and the living room, kitchen, and study down here. The kitchen had been the main feature to bring the price down a bit, since it was clearly a house big enough for a large family, yet the kitchen was built for ordering takeout. Narrow and pretty small, though it worked for me.
Since losing West, I’d learned to cook approximately ten dishes, and none of them required a lot of space.
Before Finn and Kellan left, they handed over a tablet from which I could run the whole security system, and this was some advanced shit West could go nuts over. He liked technology and gadgets. My new system included both hardware and software. “Never trust shit that requires the internet,” Finn had told me. Which explained why they’d thrown out my previous alarm.
I’d learn it this weekend. I had two hours before I was due to pick up Trip and Ellie, and I had to shower and get groceries first.
The new shutters were easy enough. I controlled them from a panel in the hallway, and they did more than keep the sun out. It was my first line of defense, with some sort of impact trigger that activated an alarm if someone tried to force them open or jimmy with the lock pad on the outside. Lastly, the guys had installed smoke detectors inside that made sure the shutters retracted in case of a fire.
I was a fan.
After my shower, I pulled on a pair of cargo shorts and a tee, and I saw West had texted.
Our weekly kiddie update.
We’ve had a good week. Trip fell off his bike on Wednesday and is sporting a Batman Band-Aid on his knee. Other than that, smooth sailing. He’ll probably request cheesesteaks at some point. He’s had a hankering all week. Ellie had a sleepover at a friend’s house (Lainey) and has decided to become a dog whisperer when she grows up. Or a pony inspector.
I smiled to myself, though it faded fast.
I hated this so fucking much. I hated missing out on half their lives. I hated not knowing about things as they happened. I hated these updates.
It was the first I’d heard from him this week. He’d completely ignored my jealous attack the day he’d had his date.
Whore.
I texted back.
Thx for the update. We can do steaks for dinner. There’s a free music festival for kids with food trucks and face painting in Manayunk next week, so we’ll probably go on Wednesday or Thursday.
I guessed he could spend all next week with his man. West had a few more weeks of work before his vacation, at which point they could screw around the clock for five weeks.
Deep breaths.
Fuck my life, I could picture them.