Page 140 of Joey

He sighs again. Longer and louder this time. Like he’s really tired. Of me, maybe. Or this conversation. Or maybe just life.

“Ignorant,” I say.

“What?”

“That’s what I am, I guess. Because I don’t understand. Do you… know me?”

“Do I know you?” Johnny Boston stares at me for several moments. Then gets back up from his chair and walks around the desk. “Are you fucking serious right now? Miklos worked for me. I’m the one who bought you. I’m the one who took care of you. I’m the goddamned one who did all that shit for you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“When Miklos told me he was dying I took care of him. I paid the fucking bills. I got him in the best hospice in Hungary. And I gave him explicit instructions to set you up with some money and to cut you loose. And then you show up here? Pretending to be my brother’s girlfriend? What the actual fuck, Brooke!”

“I don’t know you. You and I, we’re nothing. I don’t—” But I stop talking. I stop protesting. Because somewhere, deep down inside, I know he’s not lying. I know the lie and this isn’t it.

And for some reason I’m thinking about the scam they pulled out at the Kane estate and how I missed it. How I bought into the dream. The fairy tale. How I thought it was real.

It hits me then. What Miklos did for me.

He gave me back my innocence. Not all of it. Not after all I went though. That wasn’t possible. But just enough to believe again. To believe that the fairy tale is possible.

That’s why I missed their lie.

I believed it because I was able to.

I look at Johnny and he softens. Just a little teeny bit. His eye aren’t so narrow. His jaw not so clenched. He presses his lips together and says, in a voice that’s low and much less dangerous, “My father owned you because he owned your mother after your father died.”

“What?” My head is spinning. “Who?”

“Your real father. Not Miklos and not that asshole who confronted you on Friday night at the Kanes. You…” But he stops.

“I what?” I whisper. “Tell me.” And that’s not a whisper. It’s a demand. But my voice is shaky and it cracks a little.

“You’re… I thought you knew. I thought… that’s why you were here with Joey. I thought you two were trying to fuck things up, or get revenge, or…” He runs his fingers through his thick, dark-blonde hair and turns away. “I thought you knew.”

I don’t even know how to process all those words so I concentrate on the only thing that does makes sense. The one answer I’ve been searching for all my life. “Who am I?”

He turns back to me. “You’re one of us.”

“Explain that,” I say. “Please! Right now.”

“You’re not a Boston. Don’t worry. I should’ve said… you’re one of them.”

I laugh. “Incest? You think I’m worried about incest?” I step forward, grab him by the shirt collar, and shake. Johnny Boston doesn’t even blink. “Spell it out for me.”

He grabs my hands, squeezes them tight until I let go of his now stretched-out collar, and then says, “They own all of us. Every single one of us. When we’re born our parents pledge us into a position and that’s where we stay for the rest of our lives. But there’s more than one way to make money off kids in the Way.”

He says this: The Way. Like it’s a thing. But I don’t’ understand it and he’s still talking.

“So your mother did sell you,” Johnny continues. “But she didn’t just do it once.”

“Keep going,” I say. Feeling sick inside. But I need to hear it. I need to hear all of it.

“Her boyfriend runs drugs for us. But I’m guessing you knew that since he used to take you on runs in Mexico and that’s where I had Miklos pick you up.”

I don’t admit to anything but… yes. I did know this part.

“Do you know what it takes to run drugs these days? Any clue?”