The Absolution of Aidan (The Syndicate Series Book 3) (5 page)

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Authors: Kathy Coopmans

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: The Absolution of Aidan (The Syndicate Series Book 3)
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“I do get it, brother. Doesn’t mean I’m going to betray her. Betrayal isn’t what I’m about. I stick true to my word no matter whom I give it to or whom I have to hurt in the process. But I fucking swear she’s good. Hell, she’s seems better than she was before.” He pats my shoulder. I know I’m not getting any more out of him. I respect him for his loyalty. Doesn’t do my bleeding brain any damned good, though. I will still look for her.

Leaving the two of them to finish their workout, I stretch my t-shirt over my head, grab all my shit, and bust my ass to get to my apartment to shower. The first place I’m going is straight to her and Alina’s old apartment. Opening the door to my place, I’m instantly assaulted with that damn silence again. I fucking hate it. Toeing off my shoes by the front door, I head right to my old stereo, lift up the lid, and place the old needle across the album. The deep smoky rumble of Bob Segar echoes throughout the built-in surround system I had installed. This stereo is older than dirt, one of the very few things I kept for myself after my grandfather passed. His record collection, too. They don’t make albums like this anymore. Everything’s all digital, computerized shit, which comes in handy when you’re driving around, but not when I’m home.

I let the music sink in. Bob talking about how guys love watching Her Strut. God, how I would watch Deidre strut her fine ass across her apartment with those tight jeans or her yoga pants, hell, even those short little pajama bottoms she used to wear.

Get that shit out of your mind, man. The woman hates you!

With Bob playing, I make my way down the hall to my bathroom, take a much-needed piss, turn the spray on in the shower, and drop my sweaty clothes to the floor. I clean and shampoo my hair in record time, have clean jeans and a light gray t-shirt and my boots on in fifteen minutes.

Digging my key to my bike out of my old Sinners leather vest, I reach for the door to leave just when the buzzer alerts me from downstairs.

“What’s up, Nerd Boy?” I chuckle at the nickname I call one of the security guards downstairs. He’s the opposite of a damn nerd. People think I’m huge, but I’m a goddamn chipmunk compared to him. He’s seven feet tall, burly as hell. In reality, though, they don’t come any nicer than him. The dude has been married for twenty years. Has five daughters who are all tall; every single one them has him wrapped around their finger. The oldest one plays basketball at NYU. He’s always riding Roan, Cain, and my ass to come watch her play. We can’t get away from him when he starts going on about any of his children. Can’t blame the dude. Who knows how I would be if I ever had kids of my own.

“Fuck off, dickface. You have visitors. Want me to send them up?”
Them?
I think to myself.

Maybe it’s Deidre and her parents. She’s afraid to be alone with me. I have no damn clue, all I hope is it has to be her. “Yeah, send them up.” I disconnect. Hell, I’m getting all sweaty again just thinking about seeing her.

A few minutes later, I’m standing in front of my door, gripping the handle when the doorbell rings, my nerves bouncing all over the place.

I swing the door open, expecting to see a dark-haired beauty, but instead I’m face-to-face with a blond-haired bitch, her finely coifed hair piled on top of her head, and her psychotic son.

“What the fuck are you doing here? And how the hell did you find me?” I go to slam the door in her face when my mother shoves me aside, walking in like she owns the place.

“Get out,” I yell to the both of them. Fuckwad strolls in with a self-righteous smirk on his face. I ought to beat him until he begs me stop, then turn around and cut his balls off.

“It’s been five years, son. I need to speak with you. You don’t return my calls or my letters, therefore you left me with no other choice than to track you down.” Her shady little eyes scan my entire living room. It’s boring, just like this conversation is.

“Well, you didn’t have to bring a pile of fucking dog shit with you.” I curl my lip and lift a brow, daring my so-called half-brother to say one goddamned word.

“Aidan, enough. I did not come here to argue,” she carries on.

“If this is about the land, you’ve wasted a trip. You know damn well I’m not selling it, so take your fancy ass and leave. I’ve got way more important people to see than the two of you.”

“Looking around this place, I’d say you’re the fancy one now.” Fuckface has the nerve to speak.

I walk casually to him until we’re near chest-to-chest. He’s bulked up over the years, but still stands a good couple of inches or so shorter than me. I have no qualms about taking this pussy down, right the fuck here.

While the two of us stare each other down, my mother starts to speak.

“Ryan’s dead.” I crane my neck to look at her, the urge to laugh about my step-dad’s death scratching at my throat.

“And how is this my problem? Let him rot.” I may sound unsympathetic. For good reason. I hated that bastard about as much as I hate his son standing here, stinking up my apartment.

“I… I need you to come home,” she stutters.

“I am home.” Knowing damn well what she means, the notion to rile these two up kicks into high gear.

“We need your help.” She reaches up to place her arm on my shoulder, and I swat her away. I will never hit a woman, but this person in front of me is the description of the female devil. She’s as dark, calculating, and manipulating as they come.

“Fuck you. And fuck you, too,” I point to Ryan Drexler Junior. “You two are nothing to me. I don’t care if you need my help. Figure it out on your own. Call your lawyers. Call Freddy motherfucking Krueger. I will never step foot in your house again. Now, I would appreciate it if you got the hell out of mine.” I don’t want to hear any more of their shit. Whatever kind of help they need, they can find it from someone else. I move to open my door, but before my hand even reaches for the doorknob, the words barely fall from Junior’s lips, yet I hear them.

“What did you say?” My back is to the two of them. I heard the little prick, but I need him to repeat it; as self-centered as he is, it has to make his skin crawl to say those words. To pull them straight out of his ass, knowing his dad wasn’t as perfect as he made himself out to be.

“I said, my dad has another family.” The vibration in my shoulders caused by my laughing must not sit well with Alexis Drexler, because she gasps loudly.

“That is the funniest thing I have heard in a long time.” I flip my body around to look at the two of them.

“You think this is fucking funny?” Ryan seethes at me.

“I think it’s very fucking funny. Especially when our mother here used to fuck around on your dad all the time. Isn’t that right, Alexis? Do you know if Junior here is really Ryan’s or is he a bastard, too?” Fake tears start strolling down her face.

“Fuck you. I have a half-sister, who’s twenty-three years old. She wants some of dad’s money. She doesn’t deserve a dime,” Junior sneers.

“What does this have to do with me? I couldn’t care less about the fact he had another family or if she even gets it all. I hope she does. Christ, what’s wrong with you people?” I knew they were money hungry animals. Ryan’s glaring at me like the world owes him everything. And Alexis has her head cast down. Then suddenly she straightens herself out and looks me up and down, her aspect bitter.

“I want you to kill them,” she finally says. This time I heard her loud and very fucking clear.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

DEIDRE

 

 

“Alina, no. I… I’m not ready yet.” Startling the both of us, she sighs into the phone while I fidget in my chair. And damn it, I do not fidget.

I’m sitting at my kitchen table, drinking coffee and applying makeup. Why I’m attempting to apply makeup is beyond me. It’s not like I was planning on going anywhere or expecting any visitors.

Now, I’m listening to my friend warn me that Aidan knows I’m back.

I contemplated for days on whether I should go see them first or him. I chose them. Alina is one of the strongest women I know. I needed her strength, her guidance to get me through telling Aidan about Diesel.

Once I knew she respected my decision for the way I choose to handle my life, she listened. I’m scared and nervous of his reaction. The sooner I tell him, the better it will be for all of us. But there are a few factors that concern me now that I have a baby. I don’t know, maybe I should talk to Calla first. Surely, she must know by now, too. Shit. My theory on the outcome of the conversation I’m stalling to have is inevitable. It’s who we are. Nothing will change it.

However, my child comes before anyone or anything, and for the first time in my life, I can honestly say being connected to the mafia in a roundabout way scares the fuck out of me.

I’m the daughter to one of the Diamond family’s top lawyers, which technically means I’m not connected to them at all. I know things, though. I grew up with them. Went to school with Roan until he moved. There are lots of things I know and wish I didn’t.

One of the things I know is Aidan works for them. What he does exactly, I’m not sure. All I do know is that no way in hell do I want to put my child in danger. This is why I needed to dredge up the courage to go see him. If he’s going to be a part of Diesel’s life, which he has every right to be, then I need to make it perfectly clear I want him kept far away from this life, that I want him to have nothing to do with it at all. I’m smart enough to realize there are a hell of a lot more enemies out there. Ones that kill innocent people to pay back those that have crossed them.

Digging into my purse, I retrieve my Xanax and take my two daily pills out of the bottle, swallowing them down with my now lukewarm coffee. I’m right where I want to be in life, and this medication helps me stay calm. Not worry or panic. I’ll take it as long as I need it, even if it’s for the rest of my life.

“I’m sorry, Deidre. He knew something was up with Roan last night. Then this morning he asked me. I couldn’t lie to the man. I didn’t tell him where you were living.” Her voice is full of apology. It’s not him knowing I’m back I’m afraid of. She knows this as well as I do. We discussed it in great lengths when I showed up unannounced at her doorstep.

Alina also told me how much of a change she’s seen in Aidan over the past year. He’s calmer, more subdued and laid back. Maybe that night changed his outlook on life as well as it did mine. I don’t know. I’ll have to see for myself.

“I know. It has to be done. It’s best to get it done. This way the two of them can get to know each other. All I want is for my son to have a relationship with his father.” I think back to when I was six months pregnant. How I knew absolutely nothing about my baby’s father. But with my dad being an attorney, having resources in abundance, I was able to find out so much about Aidan.

He has a mother, a step-dad, and a half-brother, who live in Pennsylvania. To my dad’s knowledge, they haven’t spoken to one another for years. Aidan comes from a wealthy family. It’s obvious he doesn’t care about the money.

His step-father Ryan Drexler of Drex Enterprises owns several car dealerships all over the state of Pennsylvania. He is a very shrewd yet successful man, while his mother comes from old money—bankers, investors, you name it—they dipped in it. She must be a real bitch for a man like him to not want anything to do with her. I hate bitches, plain and simply hate them. It doesn’t matter what your child has done. Not that I’m saying Aidan is to blame, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to hurt his own mother. A parent should always be the one to step up, makes things right or at least attempt to.

I will admit I’m curious to know why he doesn’t speak to his mother. Something dreadful must have happened in order for Aidan to leave his family.

 

The only thing my father wasn’t able to find out was who Aidan’s biological father was. No name was put on his birth certificate, just the name of his mother, Alexis Hughes, which was her maiden name. I was relieved to know he didn’t come from a family of crime.

“I need to get to work, but I felt like you needed to know. Knowing him, he won’t give up until he sees for himself that you really are ok. Like I said last night, your disappearance did a number on him. For a long time, he withdrew from everyone,” she articulates sincerely. The man must have gone through his own private hell, which does nothing but make me feel worse.

“I appreciate it. Will talk soon. I love you, Alina. Your support mean everything to me.”

“I love you, too. And I’m so incredibly proud of you.” Hearing those words of encouragement mean more to me than anything.

We hang up, with me promising to call her any time, day or night, if I have concerns regarding Diesel. I have many concerns, but none of them have to do with his health.

With my phone still in my hand, I rub my temples, thinking about how I want this all to play out. I need to do what’s best for the baby. My gut is telling me I need to speak to Aidan first before he sees Diesel, but what if he rejects him? Starts yelling, demanding why I waited this long to tell him?

The pills are taking effect. My head is clearer now. No matter his reaction, I can and will handle this.

I need to go to him before he comes here, which I know he will.

I dial my mom, the only other person I trust right now to leave Diesel with. When she says she can be here within the hour, I hustle to finish getting ready. This isn’t a date or an I’m-here-to-impress-you kind of thing, yet I still want to look good. If anything, I’m doing it to reassure Aidan that I’m doing great, that I’m fully capable of raising our son.

Most people may not truly understand the after effects of having a breakdown. I’m better, so much better than I was a year ago, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have a long way to go to get my life back. The dreams still come and go, leaving me fearful to fall back to sleep. The small dosage of Xanax helps me and millions of other people in this world face days when it seems our plate is piled so high we don’t know what to do. It helps us climb it. Conquer it. Some of us need a little extra shove to get to the top.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with taking medication to help us get through the day, to deal with the shit we have to live through.

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