Boston Blood

Forty one

Tommy Ryan stood in front of his daughter, silently. She looked so different to the young woman he barely remembers. She had long brown wavy hair and fierce green eyes, just like her mother. She looked well, if not a little too thin but Tommy was surprised with how happy he actually was to see her after all these years. He just hoped she would feel the same. 
"What are you doing here? Where's Michael?" Frankie asked, trying desperately to control her trembling voice. Colin had peeled himself off the floor with a groan and a look that could kill, pointed in Frankie's direction. "Who the fuck are you. then? Jesus Frankie, I can't keep track of you and your-," Colin's words were once again cut short when Frankie's elbow managed to find his bony torso. "Mind your own fucking business. Don't you have some cleaning to do? Go make yourself busy." Frankie demanded and Colin reluctantly skulked off. She turned back to Tommy whose face was visibly beaming with pride. 
"Well, it's nice to see some things haven't changed. You certainly can still stand up for yourself. That was something I've always liked about you." 
Frankie had to force her self to not laugh in her father's face. What was he talking about? Any time she ever had the courage to stand up to him she was always met with the back of his hand, or worse. Frankie kept stone-faced and walked over to the bar. She could feel her entire body shake and had to take a few steadying deep breaths while her back was to him. Tommy followed her, taking off his leather jacket and sitting on a stool in front of the bar. "Drink?" She asked, eyeing him with engrossing suspicion. 
"Not for me, I've given up, Frances." 
"It's Frankie, now." She bit back before she could stop herself. Her voice was seeping with a mixture of annoyance and utter fear. She couldn't believe he was here. She always hoped she would never actually have to see him again but over the years and obviously, the past few weeks, she was picturing what this moment would be like in her mind. If she had her way and was meeting him under different circumstances she had always dreamed about confronting him and letting out every piece of pent up anger and emotion that she had been trying so hard to repress all these years. She desperately longed to make him feel every ounce of pain that he had made her feel, but this time, at her own bare hands but she always liked to think that she was a different person now, that she had grown and let a lot of that anger go like she had told Cillian. She laughed at herself in her mind as she poured two coffees for them. Seeing him sitting there, his hair thinning, beads of sweat running down his forehead and his belly protruding over the waist band of his slacks and the seemingly genuine smile pulling at his thin lips, she was suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling of sorrow. Why wasn't she more angry? Why wasn't she forcing herself to stop from grabbing the knife beside her and ramming it right into his throat? She couldn't believe it but she found herself actually feeling sorry for the man. What is happening to me? 
All of her fantasies about what she wanted to do to her father were irrelevant anyway, of course because even if did want to make him suffer for what he had put her family through, she knew she never could. Tommy Ryan was now her colleague and was also walking around Boston, blissfully unaware that his days were numbered. The sudden weight of the situation made Frankie's body shake, violently. The coffee pot she was holding slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor, causing it to shatter. "Fuck!" Frankie groaned and bent down to pick up the glass. She could feels Tommy's eyes on her and couldn't understand why she suddenly felt extremely emotional. 
It was all too much. Her father, the man who beat her and Michael and murdered her mother was sitting in the bar she now ran. The place where she had been given a second chance, the place that the most wonderful man in the world had trusted her with, her home. Bill's face plagued her mind and it suddenly made her dangerously aware of why she was doing all of this. She had to protect them. She needed to get it together and remember the plan. This was for them. Fuck Tommy Ryan. He's a dead man and he fucking deserves it. 
She dropped the glass to the floor and stood up, facing Tommy head on. "Look, we both know there are some things we need to talk about but how about we just don't, okay? We're going to be working together and to be honest, I was so angry about what you did for so long. But life has been very eye opening for me. I've come to realise that you had reasons for what you did. Working for Tony has made me see that there are just some things that family don't do to one another. My mother cheated on you with your best friend. She made a fool of you and I understand now why you had to do it. I just want to be a family, again. I want to be with Michael." 
Bile was burning her throat as she struggled to say the words, earnestly. She felt sick and ashamed and was now haunted by the images of her poor mother's cold body lying in front of her. She hated herself for saying this but it had to be done. She had to make Tommy really believe that she had forgiven him and that they can move on. Tony needed to see that there were no hard feelings or the plan would be ruined. She closed her eyes, praying the tears threatening to fall stayed back as she met Tommy's wide and vulnerable brown ones.
He was silent and stayed like that for a long time. Frankie couldn't read his expression. He looked like he was getting upset, but there was also a slight glint in his eyes, a subtle look that made Frankie think that Tommy Ryan knew he had won, again. 
"Frankie, I'm so glad you understand. This world is tough and we need to take care of ourselves. I know I wasn't the best father but I'm so glad you were willing to give this relationship another go. Tony has told me that you are a good employee, hungry and strong and that you two have a past. When he told me you were looking for work, I have to admit that I was shocked. I had heard you had moved on from all of that, that you were running a bar and that you were doing well but I guess the rotten apple doesn't fall too far from the tree now, does it." Tommy laughed as he took out a cigarette. "You know, what? give us a small whiskey, fuck it, we need to celebrate." Frankie had to stop the growl that was dangerously close to escaping her throat. Given up, my arse. 
She poured him a Jameson and handed it to him, biting her tongue. "None for you?" 
Frankie shook her head and Tommy nodded, knocking back the liquid and tapping the rim, signalling for another one to be poured. Frankie obliged, feeling angrier and angrier by the second. After Tommy's fifth shot he was starting to get giddy and his voice was becoming harsher and sharper.
"You know? I cannot believe my two kids are back with me. You have turned into a fine woman, so smart and knows what she wants. And Mikey? Jesus that kid could be the next Al Capone. You should see him, Frances. He's fucking vicious. Even has some of the older crew shitting themselves. He's fearless and so head strong. He's on his way to being Tony's number one. He takes after me, you know." Frankie gripped the bottle with such force, she was surprised that it hadn't shattered, also. She hated hearing these horrible things spilling from Tommy's sloppy mouth. The more he spoke, the more she wished Cillian would just burst through that door and shoot this fucker now. The sudden urge pick up the baseball bat that was mounted on the ceiling and bashing his head in was overwhelming. Her brother, the kind, loving child that she remembered was sounding more and more like an evil bastard. She had to get him out of here. She had to save him. He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Tommy. It was all his fucking fault. Another shot and his words were becoming slurred. 
"I thought he would hate me. I thought you would hate me. I must have been a better father than I thought. Here I am, in the prime of my life, making a good living and protected by Tony Russo and I have my two kids right by my side. Mikey at my side doing whatever Tony needs and you, keeping an eye on the books. Obviously you wouldn't be able to do any of the dirty work. Not that Tony would ever let a woman do that. But you're both here! Even after I killed their whore of a mother!" Tommy threw his head back and laughed and Frankie could feel herself about to throw her body over the bar and squeeze the life out of him with her bare hands but thankfully, for once, Colin had reappeared from the office to interrupt her. 
"Frankie, phone. I'm going home," Colin grumbled like a child and disappeared out the back door. Frankie excused herself and closed the door, finally letting her legs buckle from underneath her. She bit on her hand to stifle the sobs that were making it difficult to breathe. She could hear Tommy help himself to another drink, while humming an incoherent song. She felt numb. Listening to him say those things brought back every painful, horrifying memory of that night. She couldn't do this. How could see go on acting like everything was okay? There was no doubt in her mind, now. She finally had come to terms with it. She wanted Tommy Ryan dead.
She wiped her eyes and slapped herself on the cheeks before getting off the floor and walking over to the phone on the desk. The phone receiver was wasn't out and there was no light flashing indicating a phone call. Frankie's eyebrows furrowed as she picked up the small piece of paper that was in front of her. She nearly died when she read the words;
"No phone call. Just thought you could use a break from that absolute prick. I understand why you're doing it, now and I'll try not to be a dickhead... much- Colin."

Frankie blinked and read the note again. "Well, I'll be damned."
She tore up the pager and threw it in the bin before gathering herself and heading back out. 
"I have to go, Tony needs me." Frankie couldn't look at his face as she grabbed her coat and signalled to Tommy that it was time to go. He nodded and stood up, stumbling in place. "Right, right. Of course. Okay well you obviously know that he wants you to start in the hotel he owns. The Venetian. It's small but it's where we meet to sort out deliveries and things. I'll see you there tomorrow at 9, kid and just so you know, it mightn't be such a warm reunion with Mikey. I had to tell him that you were the one who chose to send him away. You have to understand, it was for his own good. I was afraid he would try to find you and I'd lose you both forever." Tommy stared at Frankie, a sly grin playing at his lips. Frankie opened her mouth to scream at him. That was the last straw. She had always prayed that Michael wouldn't blame her for what happened but she knew he would. She just wanted to be the one to explain, not this pathetic excuse for a man. She closed her mouth and just smiled a sickeningly sweet smile. "I knew you'd understand. God, I'm glad you got your sense from me and not your mother." He looked like he was going to go in for a hug but much to Frankie's relief he pulled back and headed out the door. Frankie locked it with quivering hands and pulled down the blind. She stood against the glass and let out a harsh breath. "You'll see me tomorrow, alright. You fucking cunt."