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Voices float up the stairway.
They’re here.
It’s time to let go.
41
Callisto
I woke up a father.
I went to bed fatherless.
The next day, we flew my father’s body back to New Orleans on Vince’s private jet. Makenna held my hand. She said all the right things, comforted me in the way that only she can, and for a brief moment, I was distracted. Then, we got home and reality hit like a hurricane. Phone calls, paperwork, legalities, arrangements. As if the kind of wood for his coffin or what flowers I chose for his service made a fucking difference. I could have lined his casket in gold and had Middlemist Reds brought in from a botanical garden in New Zealand and he wouldn’t have cared. Funerals are for the living. Peace is for the dead.
Dad had most of his things in order before he died. I suppose when your last name carries a target with every breath you take, you’re prepared for things like this.
He was fifty-two—way too young for his heart to betray him the way it did. Somewhere along the way, he short-circuited. The wires got crossed, and his heart simply stopped beating. The doctors said it’s due to his previous heart attacks.
The hardest part of losing him hasn’t been the grief. I don’t think that’s hit me yet.
But guilt is a motherfucker.
He’d said he was proud of me. I never told him I’m proud of him, too. I never told him I forgave him. I never told him about Makenna. He’ll never see or hold his grandchild.But he’s seeing my mother again. Now, his heart can be whole.Maybe knowing that is what keeps the grief at bay.
I’ve been to his house and to the restaurant, but I can’t make myself go in his office. Not yet. I know I’ll open the door and expect to see him behind his desk with his reading glasses on and a newspaper in his face.
Jaxon had been running Suppato’s while we were in Italy. Today, the restaurant is closed for the memorial. We’re at a cathedral close to my loft. I wanted to keep it intimate but the whole goddamn city is here. The afternoon sun beams through the stained-glass windows, painting the interior in vibrant colors. Those colors don’t belong here. There’s nothing vibrant about saying goodbye. There’s a maze of lines painted on the floor, for lost souls to find their way home, I suppose.
I skip it.
Franco is in the front row. He’s been quiet ever since we got back. I don’t push him. I know the demons he’s wrestling with. They live inside me, too. They call me by name.
Makenna holds my hand and smiles as people offer their condolences, as they walk past one-by-one and toss a rose into his grave. She’s being so fucking strong, but I see the truth in her eyes. This is killing her. Not only is she dealing with the pain of losing my father, she’s reliving memories of the last time she stood in front of a six-foot hole and watched as a coffin was lowered into the ground. I know this because I’m reliving memories of my own. The only difference is I was angry then. Now, as I stand up and toss my own rose onto his coffin, it’s not anger that drives me. It’s him.
I’ll be a man you can be proud of, a father you can be proud of.
* * *
It’s three in the morning, and I’m standing in front of the living room window, looking out over the terrace. This is where Makenna finds me, where she walks up and wraps her arms around my waist from behind and kisses between my shoulderblades.
“I called a meeting with all the men.” Tomorrow, I officially take my father’s seat. Tomorrow, I say goodbye to the man who’s walked in the shadows for the last five years and become the man who owns them. I’m not sure how to do that. I haven’t had enough time to prepare.
“That’s a big step.”
“It’s a necessary one.” I need to find out how Morano is getting his containers on the ships without my men seeing them.
“I guess we both have big days tomorrow. I have a meeting too.” Her fingertips trail the top of my pants.
The last few days are wearing on me and the next few won’t be any easier. My mind is overstimulated. My demons need a release, and that single touch—her touch—just rattled their cage.
I turn around. “If you tell me it’s an interview at Oschner’s I’m going to kill Dr. Faulkner.”
She looks so fucking beautiful. Shadows dance across her face. Her hair glows in the moonlight. Her blue eyes soften, probably because she knows I’m not kidding. “I’m putting my house on the market. I’m meeting the realtor tomorrow.”
My throat works over a swallow. I know how big of a step this is for her. Even though she’s already moved in with me, she’s letting go of her safety net. She’s giving herself to me. Completely.
“Jaxon will go with you.” I step closer to her. The cage bars shake. The demons are rowdy.
