Page 25 of End It All

He frowned. "Yeah."

I tapped my glass. "Another?"

The uneasy atmosphere was so thick, I could choke on it. My father poured us each another shot. When we swallowed these, our eyes met over our glasses and we didn't break eye contact. I finally sat my glass down and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"It's good. What is it?" I asked.

"Vecchia Romagna. A very good brand of Brandy from Italy," he said. "We should go one day."

"Don't you want to take one of your other four sons?"

My father sighed. "How long are you going to hold onto this?"

"At least until tomorrow," I said and poured myself a shot. "You understand."

He chuckled. "You take after me a hell of a lot," he exclaimed. "I've waited years to have a son that I could stomach. Looks like it was you all along. If only your mother didn't hide you from me."

I bristled. What was he talking about? "And why did she feel the need to do that?"

He shrugged. "To hurt me. Why else?"

Yeah, so it was all about him. I wasn't sure how much I trusted a single word out of his mouth. Everything I knew about him had been a lie until my mother gave me a sliver of the truth. Then again, she had only given me a sliver of the truth. What was I supposed to believe?

"Why did you leave in the first place?" I asked, feeling more bold as I drank.

My father sat down. I stared for a minute until I copied him and sat across from him at the island. He shrugged off his jacket and undid the first three buttons of his shirt. Once he was done, he finally looked at me.

"The truth?"

I frowned. "Yes, the truth. I don't want a lie. Spent enough years making up stories about you," I muttered.

He sighed. "Like I said, I'm sorry. My life got more complicated, and I had to leave you all behind. I wanted you both to come, but your mother refused. She didn't agree with my lifestyle."

My frown deepened. "Because you're in the mafia?"

He raised a brow. "I work in a corporation just like any other man in this country. A very strict and loyal organization."

I nodded, understanding that he was never going to admit those words out loud. He probably thought I was an informant or something. I took another shot and bit back the bile that rose in my throat. When it passed, I exhaled and stared at him.

"Did she know who you were from the start?"

"They all do, son," he said. "And yet when it comes time to live in that reality..." He trailed off. "I would have stayed if she didn't want me gone. I loved your mother." He took a shot. "Where is she now?"

Yeah, I wasn't going to tell him that. I didn't give a damn who he was. My mother was safe right where she was. The only thing she might have to deal with now were the cops, but I still didn't know him. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he was feeding me a pack of lies. Either way, I wasn't going to toss my mother to him like a sheep to a wolf.

"She's safe," I said evenly.

My father stared at me before he burst out laughing. "You really are my son," he said. "Smart, cautious, strong. It’s refreshing!" he roared as he poured another shot. "You must stay with me. I'll show you the city, find you some work, and you'll adjust just fine. Clearly, you're running from something. I can help with that too." He paused. "What are you running from?"

I swallowed thickly. "It’s nothing serious.”

Cesare tilted his head, as if he was studying me. “We’re family. If you can’t be honest with me, what makes you think I’m going to help you?”

He had me there. The truth was that I was the one that needed the help, and he was offering it to me. Cesare even seemed… excited. I toyed with my shot glass. I really didn’t have a choice.

“Some things happened," I muttered. "In California. There’s some charges waiting for me and I can’t go to prison. I just need a place to hide out for a while."

"You've come to the right place." He stood up and walked over to me before he slapped a hand onto my shoulder. "Welcome home, son. I know it'll take some time, but you'll trust me eventually. And I'll trust you."