The Long Game (5 page)

Jimmy Boy laughed, although there was no way
he found any of this funny. “All right. You’ve made your point, and
Shay’s learned his lesson.” He glared at me over his shoulder.
“Haven’t you?”

“Sure,” I said. I got up and held out a hand
to Rosie. She stared at it for a second, but then let me pull her
back to her feet. “Are you okay?”

Rosie bobbed her head but pulled her hands
away and wrapped her arms around herself protectively.

“I’m going to let you go now,” Jimmy Boy
said. “But no more scrapping, you hear? I can’t imagine Pop’ll look
kindly on you fighting at your sister’s wedding.”

“Fuck you,” Judd said and spat in my
brother’s face.

Jimmy Boy’s mouth clenched into a hard line.
He moved with more speed than I would’ve thought him capable.
Grabbing Judd by the throat, he lifted him an inch off the ground
and held him against the trailer. Judd sputtered and clawed in vain
at Jimmy Boy’s hand.

“I’m trying to be polite, Prince, but you’re
pushing me to my limits. Now take your sister back to the party and
go find a place to sleep it off. Yeah?”

“Let’s go, Judd,” Rosie said. She put her
hand on Jimmy Boy’s shoulder, and he opened his fist. Judd crumpled
to his knees, gagging as air rushed back into his lungs.

Jimmy Boy stepped back to give Rosie room to
drag her brother back to his feet. When they’d disappeared around
the side of the trailer, Jimmy Boy turned to me, and for a second,
I thought I might have to fight him next. Instead, he shook his
head as if I were a disappointing child.

“Listen, I know I promised—”

“Whatever you have to say, save it for Pop.
There’s no way he’s not going to hear about this. And when he does,
you’re gonna wish I’d let Judd kill you.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“WAIT RIGHT HERE,” Judd said. He glared at
me, though the greenish tint to his skin and his puffy eyes made
him considerably less threatening than he meant to be. A purple
bruise roped around his throat, and his hand was bandaged.

“Right here, Prince?” I asked, pointing to my
feet. “So here isn’t okay?” I slid several inches across the thick
Oriental rug that carpeted the Sheedy’s foyer.

Judd pursed his lips, and his nostrils
flared. “Real funny, smartass. Stay here in the hall.”

“What’s a matter, Prince? Not feeling so good
this morning?” I knew goading him would only get me in more
trouble, but since I’d been summoned by Pop this morning, I figured
this might be the last chance I’d ever get to mess with him.

“My hangover will be gone in a few hours, and
with any luck, you’ll be gone a few minutes after my dad gets his
hands on you. So, all in all, I’d say I’m feeling pretty good.” He
turned to walk away but then apparently decided taunting me was too
fun to abandon. “And don’t touch anything, Buffer. I know you’re
not used to having all this expensive stuff around. We don’t need
your filthy handprints all over everything.” A malicious grin
spread across his face. He turned his back again and disappeared
down the long corridor.

“What an ass,” I said under my breath, then
pressed my palm against a framed mirror that hung on the wall
beside me. When I pulled it back, a smudged handprint appeared on
its otherwise impeccably clean surface. I knew it was juvenile,
that I might as well have stuck my tongue out at Judd’s retreating
form, but the act of disobedience felt good anyway.

I scanned my surroundings. I’d never been
invited to the Sheedy home before, and this wasn’t how I’d imagined
it happening. Best case scenario, I was in for one hell of a
lecture, but Pop had always been a man of few words. More likely,
his three other sons would get a chance to finish the fight their
youngest brother had started last night. I cursed my own stupidity
for the hundredth time and vowed again to both drink less at
parties and start listening to my brother’s advice where women were
concerned.

Despite Judd’s admonishment to stay put, I
wandered down the hall a ways, cautiously looking around at the
ostentatious décor of the Sheedy mansion. Religious icons abounded,
displayed in the form of paintings; wall-mounted crucifixes; and a
side table where the Holy Mother stood on a white lace doily,
flanked by St. Bridget and St. Jude, each on their own clouds of
lace.

On one side of the hall was a set of double
doors, which were closed, muffling the voices of the people behind
them. I paused in my exploration, convinced I’d heard my name
spoken from inside the room. The voices fell silent, and I moved
away from the door quickly, afraid I’d be caught eavesdropping.

The double doors swung open, and Rosie
stepped out. When she saw me waiting in the hall, she stopped
abruptly. We stared at each other for a moment.

She smiled, and after a second, I grinned
back. “Hey. Are you okay?”

She glanced into the room she’d just stepped
from, then without a word, sprinted up the stairs. I stared after
her, debating whether her smile had been a positive sign or if
she’d just heaped all the blame for last night on me and was happy
she’d gotten away without punishment.

“Come in here and have a seat, Shay.”

My heart thudded in my ears at the sound of
Pop’s voice coming from inside the room. I could only guess what
he’d been told already. If I was here for a scolding, I’d apologize
and ask what I could do to make it up to the clan. If I was here
for a beating, I’d take it like a man and maybe get in a few good
licks myself. I squared my shoulders and attempted to look a lot
calmer than I felt, then walked into the office with as much
confidence as I could muster.

“Close the doors behind you,” Pop said.

He sat behind a huge mahogany desk that
filled the center of the room, and I got the feeling this was what
appearing before a judge would feel like. I pulled the doors shut
and slid into the seat across from him. I glanced around, still
trying to decide how to begin. My eyes landed on a framed picture
mounted on the wall. It wasn’t the clumsily painted watercolor
seascape that had caught my attention, but the fact that one side
of the gilt frame had separated from the wall several inches. Pop
followed my gaze to the wall behind him, then reached out and
pushed the painting back into place. He cleared his throat and
turned back to me.

Showtime. “I know my brother and I behaved
badly last night,” I said, but Pop put up a hand to stop me.

“Shay, I didn’t send for you
to get an apology. No one was hurt, and nothing was damaged. I know
you boys were letting off a little steam.” He flashed a patriarchal
smile. “
Gotlath noks yahr.
And with four sons, I know that better than
anyone.”

I was familiar with the saying, but I rarely
spoke the secret cant of the Travelers and had to search my memory
for its meaning. It came to me after a second.

“Youth likes to wander,” I said back in
English. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean, sir.” This seemed
too easy. He wasn’t angry enough, and I wondered if Rosie had lied
for me or for herself.

“I suppose that’d be my way of saying young
people will sometimes stray from their path, but it’s not the end
of the world.” He chuckled. “Youth likes to wander, Shay. Sometimes
it can lead to drinking a little too much at a party and picking a
fight. Sometimes it can lead to a small indiscretion behind a
trailer.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. My mind raced
with all the explanations I’d made up during the restless period
between last night and this morning, but none of them seemed right
now.

The old man barked with laughter. “You look
like a fresh-caught fish,” he said.

“Sir, I’m not sure what—” I stopped. What did
he know? What had Rosie and Judd told him?

“If you have something to
say,
sublia
—” Pop
used the cant word for boy. “—now’s the time to say it.”

I felt like my stomach was full of stones. If
I were caught in a lie, it would only make things worse. “I know I
shouldn’t have left the pavilion with Rosie last night, sir,” I
said to my knees. “I guess I just got caught up in the celebration
and all. Prince had every right to try and whoop me for it, but I
swear it’ll never happen again.”

To my surprise, Pop Sheedy laughed again, so
hard tears welled in the corner of his eyes.

“Shay, are you so naïve as to believe I
didn’t notice the two of you sneaking off? We protect our children
in this clan, even when all they need protection from is their own
hormones.” He erupted into another round of rasping laughter,
slapping his palm onto his desk with a loud thwack. “Believe me
when I say, I wouldn’t have let either of you get into too much
trouble.”

I shifted uncomfortably in the rigid chair,
wondering how closely he’d been watching. “So I’m not in trouble?”
I asked when Pop Sheedy had finally stopped guffawing at his own
cleverness.

“You’re not in trouble, and that son of mine
was awfully sorry to hear it. But there’s one reason you haven’t
been dragged for this and one reason only.”

I stiffened. Dragging was what I’d been most
afraid of—more than getting my ass kicked by all four Sheedy boys.
Dragging meant rumors, open hostility, and shunning. It would ruin
any chance I had of improving my position in the clan. It would
ruin my entire family. “What reason?”

“The reason is this: I think you could be a
great asset. I’ve watched you since you were a tiny thing, and it’s
clear to me you’ve got…” He paused as if searching for the right
word, “…potential. Tomorrow, you’re getting an opportunity to prove
I’m right in keeping your little slip-up quiet. An arrangement was
made to sell a trailer to a fella down in Terrebonne Parish.”

I frowned. “Don’t trailer sales usually take
a while to set up?”

“Wedding plans weren’t the only thing
happening this week. We put an ad in the papers a few days ago
hoping a gull would bite while everyone was back home for the
celebration, and it looks like we had a bit of luck. You’ll be
headed down there first thing tomorrow morning with Jimmy Boy.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. This was exactly the
opportunity I’d been waiting for. Jimmy Boy and I had run our fair
share of driveway paving scams and pigeon drops, but we’d never had
the means to get into trailer sales. My excitement threatened to
overwhelm me, but I tried to keep my body still and voice steady.
“Pop, I want you to know how grateful I am for this chance. I don’t
think I can tell you how much it means to me.”

Pop Sheedy nodded. “Well, if this works out
the way I think it will, you’ll be bringing in your fair share in
no time. Jimmy Boy may not be the best con there is, but I’m
confident you’ve learned what you need to from him.”

“I won’t disappoint you,
Pop.” I sprang to my feet. “I promise.
Gestena
. Thank you so
much.”

Pop Sheedy waved a hand, shooing me away.
“G’on, get out of here.”

I bolted for the door before the old man
could change his mind. I practically sprinted through the foyer and
out the front door, slowing only once I’d made it down the porch
steps and back to the macadam.

This was it—and only the beginning. First one
trailer sale for Pop, then who knows what next? As I walked back to
the trailer, I imagined taking Maggie to dinner every night and the
new truck I’d buy for Jimmy Boy. He’d warned me about my ambition,
but even he couldn’t be sour about this opportunity.

I still wasn’t quite sure why Pop was being
so kind to me or what “potential” he saw, but questioning it
wouldn’t do me much good. One thing was certain, though. I was
being given the opportunity I’d been waiting for, and there was no
way in hell I was going to screw it up.

CHAPTER SIX

JIMMY BOY JOGGED down the gull’s driveway
back toward where I sat on the edge of the truck’s bench seat. The
door was open just enough for my leg to poke through, and I kept it
from swinging wider by bracing it with one hand as if it were a
shield between me and potential disaster. I tried to relax. Being
tense or seeming nervous would be a sure sign something about this
deal was off, and it could tank the whole thing. All I needed to do
was relax, talk fast, and keep him from looking too closely at the
trailer.

“Okay,” Jimmy Boy said, gripping the door
through the open window. “He’s coming down to have a look. All you
need to do is give him a good story about why we’re selling this
thing in such a hurry and at such a good price. Got it?”

I nodded. “So what’s the story?”

“I don’t know, but you better think of one
quick,” Jimmy Boy said, wrenching the door open and pulling me
along with it. “Because he’s coming.”

Panic began to well up in my throat, and I
fought to keep my breath even. Don’t fuck this up, I reminded
myself. This is your shot.

“You’ll be fine. Tell him you knocked up your
girlfriend and need the money to help her with the baby.” Jimmy Boy
chuckled when I scowled at him. “Whatever you tell him is fine as
long as you make it sound good and convincing.”

I moved away from the truck and shut the
door, then turned to see a heavy-set man plodding down the
driveway. He had thin black hair that hung over his forehead in
greasy strings. He reached us and ran a hand through it, extending
the same hand to me. I hesitated a moment, then took it and gave it
a quick shake, afterward surreptitiously wiping my palm on the leg
of my jeans.

“So you’re the one selling the trailer, that
right?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, though the words came out
louder than I’d intended. I glanced at my brother who relaxed
against the front of the truck with his arms crossed. He urged me
on with a jerk of his head. “It’s a real wrench to give her up,
especially for so much less than she’s worth, but it’s the only
thing I have that I can get any money for. You know how the economy
is. No one’s buying trailers these days.”