"Since I graduated college. So about ten years. Been with the family for nine," he answered. That was a long ass time. He'd always wanted to betray the family. That had been his goal from the start. So why act now?
"And you aren't from Pittsburgh?" I asked. "Is anything you've told us true?"
"Oh, I am. It's all true. But I've wanted revenge for a long time, Kathryn. Since I was a teenager." He bent his head. "Your family, the family in Pittsburgh. They've all done things that deserve it. You saw your uncle killed. For me, it was my brother."
I could see the truth in his eyes and I wanted to sympathize with him. Hell, I did.
I was sure I was doing the right thing.
"And you won't implicate Janson or Greyson?" I asked.
"The two of them run things with purpose. I know if they had the chance, they would go legitimate. I'm not after them. The organization is not after them. They want James Fitzgerald and Michael Mactavish,” Michael confirmed. “I’ve already negotiated with them for that.”
“What do you need me to do?” I asked.
“We need more evidence.”
“I cannot testify. If I did I would be as good as-”
“Dead. I know. That’s why we need you to do something else for us.”
“What?”
Find out where the evidence is. We can schedule a raid at the exact right time if you do. It will be dangerous and it’ll take some time, but if you do that, we won’t need you to testify.”
“That means I have to go home.”
He nodded. “It means you’ll have to eat crow to your father and act as though you are the good girl he wants you to be. Do you think you can do it?” he asked.
I didn’t know if I could, to be honest. But I had to try. “When?” I asked.
“Not yet. I’ll let you know when.”
“What kind of evidence am I looking for?” I asked.
“Anything that would connect him to embezzlement, or murder. Anything that would put him away,” he explained.
I nodded. It was a fucking lot to ask and we both knew it. But I’d signed up for it. I wanted to make sure that I was the deciding factor in my own future.
A future without James Fitzgerald.
Janson
“Where have you been?” Michael Mactavish sat across from me, staring at me with a smirk on his face. The kind that let me know he had a theory and no matter what I said, it would be wrong.
My father was always like that. Ever since I was a teen. I could tell him I was at the library studying with Greyson all night, and it didn't matter if it was the truth. He wouldn't believe it. He was sure I'd been out partying all night and would accept no other answer.
Because it was what he wanted to hear.
“On a business trip.” It was the truth. I was on business doing what Greyson wanted.
“For Greyson?” he asked. "His own business, or family business?"
“Yes,” I said. "A little bit of both."
I wasn't going to lie to him, but I wasn't going to tell him the details either. He'd already formed ideas in his mind about what I was doing and how I was doing it. There was no use in trying to argue the point.
“So your boy has you running all over town, and you don’t even check in with me?” Ah, there it was, the anger and snark I'd come to expect from him.
“You told me that he was my very first priority, Father. That my job was to fulfill my duties as second in command.”
Always Father.
Never Dad.
That was the way our relationship worked. That was the truth of what was between us. It was thinly veiled contention. Hate that started the moment my mother died, leaving him with the burden of me to raise. He'd never gotten over it. Over her. And he never stopped blaming me.
I had nothing to do with her aneurysm. It was a medical mystery, but it didn't matter. In his eyes, I might as well have caused it.
We'd never love each other. Never actually respected one another.
We both knew it.
“You did your duty. But you could’ve let me know. I had a lot of work for you and I had to find someone else.”
“Did you? Find someone else?” I asked, my lips pursed. I didn't want to do his damn dirty work.
“For some of the things. But I have a list of work for you.” He slid a laundry list of shit over to me. No doubt it was people that he and James thought deserved a lesson.
My hands were itching to pummel someone, but that wasn’t who I wanted to be.
I needed to be someone better. Something more. But this was my life. At least until he was gone. I'd been hoping for so long that something would happen, but I always thought it would be murder. Most men don't stay at the top until they retire. No, they go out by nefarious hands.
I just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
I never expected it to be part of my own scheming. It almost made me feel dirty. Until I looked into his eyes. Then I felt totally vindicated.
“Anything else you need?” I asked.
“Yeah. I need to know what your deal is.” He flicked his cigar into the ashtray and then looked up at me with new eyes.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“You heard me. You come in here, acting like you’re better than me. What’s your deal, boy? Do you need another lesson?”
I could probably beat the shit out of him if I wanted, but that was the last thing I needed to think about. My best bet was to get the fuck away from him and do what I needed to do. We had a plan; it was going to work. I just needed to let it happen.
But I couldn’t shut my fucking mouth.
“My problem is that you only beckon to me when you absolutely need something from me. I’m your goddamn son. Maybe you could show an interest. Give a shit?”
He stared at me for a long moment and then he laughed. He fucking laughed. Right in my god damned face.
“You think I don’t give a shit about you? I’m setting up a goddamn empire for you, you ungrateful little shit. You never appreciated it. You never appreciated me. And now you come walking in here like you fucking own the place. Well, let me tell you, you ignorant little ass wipe. I brought you into this world and I can sure as hell take you out.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“You want to make this a thing?” he said, his snarl very real. “I don’t think you want to get on my bad side, Janson Michael Mactavish.”
It was meant to throw weight around, but it didn’t mean a damn thing. He didn’t mean a damn thing to me.
We were just two people who shared a name.
“You got anything else for me?” I asked again. I didn’t want to continue this conversation. I would take it to a place where I couldn’t get back from. We both knew it.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Actually, I need you to pick up my dry cleaning. Bring it to my place. Lacy will be there waiting.”
Lacy was my twenty-three-year-old “stepmother”. He seemed to trade up as soon as they hit thirty, but this one was a real piece of fucking work.
He knew I hated her; this was my punishment. I would take it if it meant defusing the situation.
“Fine,” I said as I stood. Fuck him. Fuck everything he stood for.
“Oh, and Janson?” he called to me.
“Yeah?” I asked. I was so done with him.
“Your job is to be loyal to Greyson, but your life depends on being loyal to me. Don’t fucking forget it.” He grabbed up his cigar and took a long puff.
I fought the urge to spit the sour feeling out of my mouth right onto his face. I needed to get the hell out of there.
So I turned and stormed off.
That man had the ability to make me feel like a petulant teenager even twenty years later.
But he would get what was coming to him.
Kathryn
All I had to do was confront my father. Go back home and live with him. Convince him that I was a part of the family. Then steal right from underneath him.
I sighed and thought sarcastically: That won’t be hard at all.
Leaving Janson. That was going to be the hardest part. No one knew what we were up to, and though I’d only spend a few nights with him, I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t have the nightmares when he held me. I didn’t dream about my uncle when he was close. It was like he was a drug I’d been looking for my entire life and I’d finally found.
He was the only one who could save me. I bit my lip and looked out the windows down onto the street. I liked staying here. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to be in the house again.
But I did miss my mom. And my sisters.
I just wanted nothing to do with him.
It was a part of the plan. It would work out. At least, that was exactly what I needed to tell myself.
I wanted him gone.
I heard a slam on the door and looked up to see Janson coming through the living room. He didn’t even look at me. And then I noticed it. He was fucking covered in blood.
“What the hell?” I asked as I walked through the kitchen towards him.
“It’s fine. None of it is mine.” He was heading towards the bathroom as he said it and that worried me more than anything else.
“Then whose is it?” I asked.
“Do you really want to know?” he said. When he looked back at me, his eyes were so angry that I thought about saying no. I thought about turning around and never looking back, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t just walk away from this. So I swallowed hard, and I nodded. “Yes. I want to know.”