and Eric were gone.
Gene got to his feet. “I’m happy for you, Artie,” he said. “I’ll be in my room. Say hi to Uncle Alfie for me.” I nodded my head as the kid passed us, and gripped Cheska’s hand tighter.
Freddie left the room, and I fucking froze. My dad had woken up. It had actually happened. I’d kept him on machines all this time, but deep down, I’d believed he was gone. Now he was here. Actually here. Fucking back from the dead. The true gaffer of our firm resurrected.
My fucking old man was alive.
“Let’s go, baby,” Cheska said. I nodded numbly at my bird, kissed her, then walked to his bedroom.
I sucked in a breath as I opened the bedroom door. Freddie was already beside his bed, stood back a few feet while the nurse checked him over. Freddie was watching her. My dad’s eyes were shut, but when I came closer, I saw his eyelids move, then open, his blue eyes wincing at the low light.
My pulse raced as his disorientated eyes looked around the room, first to Freddie, then they fixed on me. I thought I’d fucking fall over as he stared at me. I remembered the night he was gunned down. I remembered it with perfect fucking clarity—the Russians opening fire on our firm’s leaders and shooting them all to hell. And I remembered Freddie finding a pulse in my old man’s neck.
And here he was. Fucking alive and breathing and staring right at me.
His mouth moved, and I knew he’d seen me. He knew it was me. He couldn’t speak, and I knew that having been in a coma for so long would make him delusional as fuck. But my dad was looking at me, and I knew he fucking knew me.
Cheska let go of my hand. I looked right at her. “Go to him, baby,” she said and stood back away from the bed. I glanced over at Freddie, who had turned fucking white. He met my eyes, and I nodded at him to get closer. The nurse stepped back from the bed, and I stood at my old man’s side.
His face was drawn, he was skin and bones, but that was Alfie fucking Adley in that bed. The fucking living legend of our firm.
“Alright, Dad,” I said, and his dazed eyes focused on me. He didn’t move, but I knew his muscles were fucked after being dormant for so long—atrophy. Dad took in a deep breath, and I uncurled my hand from a fist and took hold of his.
We never did this shit. Weren’t like that. But right now … I wanted to hold his fucking hand.
“You remember Freddie,” I said, joking, and nodded to where Freddie stood like a fucking statue on Dad’s other side.
“Alfie,” Freddie said. Dad followed the sound of his voice. He blinked slowly when he saw Freddie, and I knew that was him saying hello.
My arse hit the seat beside the bed, my fucking legs giving out. Dad turned back to me. Just staring at me. The muscles in my face felt tight, but I pulled a smirk onto my lips.
“I didn’t think I was going to see you again, old man,” I said. Dad breathed in deep. “Thought you’d finally cashed in your chips with the devil.”
Dad’s lips twitched and he slowly blinked again: no. That crack, that fucking crack in my chest was back, aching and throbbing, a motherfucking boulder in my throat. I looked over at Cheska, who was watching us with a watery smile on her face. “Got a bird,” I said to Dad, winking at Chelsea Girl, and his milky gaze moved to her.
“Hello, Mr Adley,” she said, stepping a little closer. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Dad looked back to me, like he was trying to say something. Just as he did, Freddie’s phone beeped with a message. “They’ve just got to the dock,” he said. “Chuck’s looking into what happened.” Frowning, I checked my phone, wondering why my cousin hadn’t called me. I’d told him to. And he always checked in.
I brought up his number and was about to give him a call, when suddenly Freddie grabbed hold of the nurse, who was changing a bag on one of my dad’s drips, pulled out his gun, and sent a bullet straight through her skull.
Everything fucking slowed to half speed as I saw the nurse drop to the floor, eyes still wide, and the door to my old man’s bedroom burst open.