Page 33 of Fly's Path

The kitchen door pops open, and a silver fox walks in. This guy is FINE with gray at his temples and in his beard. For his age, which might be mid-fifties or so, he’s fit with muscles on his muscles. I would be drooling if he wasn’t probably close to double my age.

“Ma, I heard you were going to visit Gabe.”

“That’s right.” Viola walks up to him, and he kisses her cheek. They aren’t as close as the kids. “Sheridan and I are going to visit him.”

The man finally notices me, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

Just like the boys, who definitely don’t look like they’re related to this swarthy Italian man, he looks me up and down slowly. Taking stock of every detail before his gaze stops on my face. “Nice to meet you, Sheridan. I’m Gabe’s father, Antonio.” He walks over and holds out a hand.

I take it, meeting his eyes as I give him a firm shake. My brother taught me as he was learning to do it himself, and the skill kind of stuck. “Nice to meet you.”

“Do you two need a ride? I can get my keys and drive you. Or is Asher taking you?”

“Neither.” Viola smiles. “We’re going by chopper. Which should be in the backyard waiting for us. Would you mind carrying the coolers out?”

Chopper? She has a helicopter in the backyard waiting to pick us up to take us to visit her grandson. We’re standing in a mansion where her grandsons came in and had breakfast. But her clothing and engagement ring are so simple…modest. That diamond isn’t even a carat. “You live here?”

“Of course I do. Where else would I live but my home?”

This monstrosity is a home.

Who’s the billionaire? The words almost slip out of my mouth, but I manage not to embarrass myself any more.

Is anything in this world what I think it is anymore?

“You ready, Sheridan?” Viola half-turns to ask me.

No, but I will be anyway. “Sure.”

Broken Boys

Sheridan

Was Viola ever worried about transporting the food? Just a few minutes after we take off, it feels like we’re landing in a little field in the woods.

But the field isn’t only surrounded by woods. There’s a massive log building in front of us. My first impression is a hunting lodge, but this is supposed to be a rehabilitation facility.

There are two people in suits waiting for the helicopter to come to a stop.

“Mrs. Allan, it’s so nice to see you. Gabe was notified of your imminent arrival. He is currently in the weight room,” the man in the fancier suit says.

Who lets a child go into the weight room? Though Daire and Lorcan were both teenagers. Older teenagers at that. If Gabe was playing sports in high school, he might be used to spending his days in a weight room.

“It would be my pleasure to escort the two of you there.”

Viola shakes her head at him. “I know the way. There are several coolers in the helicopter. Could you please ensure that they are delivered to Gabe’s suite?”

“Of course. Do you require a chef to finish the preparations or plate them for you?”

Um, what? Rehab places barely change a patient's sheets. They certainly don’t arrange to have private chefs sent to suites.

Suites…this must be a rehab facility for the super-rich.

I’ve stepped into a whole new world. One I wish every sick person had access to. There’s no way I could ever afford to send Grammie to a place like this.

The dementia unit she’s in does a good job taking care of her. You’re giving her the best you can. You can’t compare yourself to a billionaire.

As we walk through the space, it feels more like a fancy hotel than any medical facility I’ve ever been in. The only thing that feels the same is a few of the tacky art pieces that you see on every doctor’s wall. But sprinkled around are a few forest paintings that are quite pretty. Were they painted around here?