Chapter 82

PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA

Chaz Donnelly sits in a lawn chair in the amphitheater amid the other parents—and grandparents—for the middle school’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Shakespeare in the park. This is Davie’s third play in the past year. Who would’ve thought? Davie the lead in all of ’em.

Chaz scans the field, the families sitting on blankets, sipping smuggled-in wine. He spots Davie’s mom with a cluster of other parents closer to the stage. She invited him to join them, which was sweet. But he needs to keep his distance. He spies the four lugs there to protect Chaz if there are any threats. O’Leary always called them the “half-wit secret service.”

His thoughts trip to Shane. His death sent the organization into a tailspin. With Shane’s brother dead, there was no obvious heir apparent. Brian O’Leary’s son, Brendan, was next in line, but he’s nothing more than cokehead muscle for the organization. He was originally part of Patrick’s crew, and no one would follow him into battle. So here Chaz is, pulled out of retirement, involuntarily appointed. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, indeed.

He misses O’Leary. Shane, like his father, had a wry wit and a knack for management. But he was kinder than his old man, which wasn’t a heavy lift. He liked helping the folks in the neighborhood. And for all his faults, he only wanted to take care of his family, spend time with the love of his life, Gina. But there was no coming back from what happened to their son. Whoever said if you’re seeking revenge, dig two graves—one for your enemy and one for yourself—had it almost right. For Shane and Gina, it involved many, many more.

The stage goes black. The show’s about to begin. Soon, Davie appears in the spotlight and Chaz feels his chest welling.

His grandson delivers his line with gusto: “You have her father’s love, Demetrius. Let me have Hermia’s.”

Chaz isn’t clear about the plot of this play, but he’s moved just the same. There’s a breeze tonight. He watches the performance with intensity, feels tears coming that he’s gotta fight back. They do that to us, the ones who take our hearts.

He thinks of Michael Harper, the accountant, who sacrificed himself for his daughter. The bravery it took to fly off that bridge. Chaz gets periodic reports on the accountant’s daughter. Her French gallery held an exhibit in Philly, and damn if she didn’t take the risk to come. Even ventured into the old neighborhood to visit her mother’s grave site.

Chaz told the young woman with three names that her debt was paid, she was free, but not everyone sees it that way. It’s one of the reasons Chaz didn’t fight too hard about upper management forcing Shane’s job on him.

For the two hours, Chaz is mesmerized by the performance. Davie is talented. Maybe this will be his destiny, performing onstage. At the final bow, Chaz stays on his feet cheering louder than any other member of the audience.

Afterward, it’s ice-cream time, and Davie is beaming.

“Thank you, Granddad,” he says.

“For what, buddy?”

“For, well, everything.”

Chaz feels a lump in his throat. He wipes a tear quickly from his cheek, looks back to see if the half-wit secret service crew are watching him from the parking lot. As usual, they’re nowhere to be seen, probably on their goddamn phones inside the SUV.

“Are you kidding me? I gotta be nice to a future superstar.”

Sylvia returns from the restroom. “All right, I’ve gotta get this kiddo home.”

Chaz walks them to their car, which is parked close to the ice-cream shop. Davie throws his arms around Chaz before they leave.

Chaz saunters over to the Suburban. The dipshits aren’t even gonna get out of the vehicle to open his door. This generation.

He opens the back passenger door. And his blood runs cold. Next to the lifeless bodies of his crew sits a man who stares at Chaz with a glint in his eyes: Leo Sabatino.

“You didn’t need to throw my brother off that boat,” Sabatino says, pointing the gun at Chaz’s center mass.

“But I did, Leo, it was my job,” Chaz replies.

Sabatino gives Chaz a look of what can only be described as admiration, a nod like he regrets what he has to do.

And then Chaz Donnelly’s world goes dark.