Page 64 of Alfie: Part One
Jesus Christ.
“In addition,” he said, lighting another smoke, “don’t ever tell me what to do. You’re already being fast-tracked into the syndicate because of your DNA. You better take whatever bullshit we throw at you with a smile on your face.”
I pressed my lips shut and didn’t respond. He…had a point, and it pissed me off. I knew my position was good. Better than most. New members with their usual low ranks never even saw Finn, unless it was from a distance in church. I’d declined countless sit-downs with crew bosses because they wanted to discuss insignificant drama they should handle on their own, most often involving new recruits.
Filling the crews with fresh blood was a job for crew bosses, whether they became full-fledged Sons at some point or they were freelancers taking on gigs for the time being. If you didn’t run your own crew or carry some other important position, you didn’t get a sit-down with Kellan. Period. And here I was, attending barbecues and exchanging pleasantries with Emilia on Instagram.
Goddammit.
I cleared my throat and stopped at a red light. “Can you check my ass later? I think your whip left a mark.”
He barked out a laugh and leaned over, and he smacked a loud kiss to my cheek. “Good answer, you crazy motherfucker. It’s what makes you family.”
I exhaled a chuckle. I’d thought it was my DNA that made me family.
But this was better. You just had to take the reaming, and then the pain was over.
“West put me in my place in the bedroom all the time,” I said. “I’ve had practice.”
“That’s the sweet spot right there,” he replied. “Only reason I rile up my man sometimes.”
Fuck, same. West and I had been equals in every aspect outside the bedroom, no power dynamic or anything like that, until the second we switched over to sex. My bossy beast would take over, grab me by the throat, and level me with a look that said he was about to own my ass.
Shite. I shouldn’t go there now. I didn’t need more misery in my life.
“How’s that going, by the way? With the ex.”
“It’s not.” I made a turn and drove past some slow cunt. “I reckon I put the final nail in the coffin today when I sorta—in a deniable in court kind of way—confirmed that the syndicate was my future.”
“Fuck, did you really?” Kellan was surprised.
I nodded.
“Damn. I’m impressed.”
I quirked a brow and made another turn. We were getting closer. “Why?”
He shrugged and exhaled some smoke. “It bodes well. Members who try to hide their affiliations completely usually fuck up sooner or later, which brings spousal drama to our doorstep.”
I guessed that made sense.
“How muchdomembers tell spouses?” I asked, curious. “Finn, for instance. Or another high-ranking Son like yourself. Or Colm or Liam.”
Kellan weighed his answer for a few seconds. “It depends entirely on the relationship. Shan and I can share a lot since we’re both in, but we keep secrets too. It’s part of the job. We just know it’s always work-related. You’re gonna have to ask Finn about what he tells her. But you know what he says—give a hand.” Never an arm. “It’s not just about protecting the syndicate, though. It’s about protecting partners and keepingthe peace. The rest is up to you. Do you trust your partner enough to divulge anything that can land you in prison?”
Not that West was my partner, but no. I didn’t trust him. I had no right or reason to, and he had no reason to protect me either.
“The more you divulge, the more you put the syndicate at risk too,” he went on. “Plus, ain’t a fuckin’ chance you’ll see a promotion or a bonus if we think you’re running your mouth to your man about your woes. A Son’s gotta be able to keep his mouth shut.”
It wasn’t going to be an issue for me. I was just curious.
I could already picture my future. West was gonna meet a man or two, possibly a rebound who lasted a year or so, and then he’d be single for a while before he met the next love of his life and got married. By then, I’d just be Trip and Ellie’s dad. He’d have no memory of me as a husband.
When West got attached, it was near impossible for him to move on. He went all in so completely, so faithfully, and so overwhelmingly, that there was nothing beyond the love he gave someone. Didn’t matter if it was a husband, like me, or the dog he’d had when he grew up. He didn’t want another dog, to this day. He’d had one, and that was enough. But of course, partners were different. He didn’t wanna spend the rest of his life on his own, so he was trying. And he was going to succeed after some ups and downs.
Me, on the other hand? Christ. I was gonna compare every future guy to West, which would result in them remaining casual. I’d have a string of hookups and arrangements to waste weekends with—never a holiday, never a birthday.
“I won’t say shit to nobody,” I muttered. “I’mma die alone.”