Chapter 7 - THE DEAD MAN AT THE DOOR
Thomas Gallagher waited inside an abandoned church.
Arthur entered first.
His father stood near the altar.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
Arthur said nothing.
Thomas took one step forward.
Arthur stepped back automatically.
The movement broke something in the older man's face.
“You still do that.”
“You don't know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
“You let me bury you.”
Thomas lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
Arthur laughed once without humor.
“You let a nineteen-year-old boy bury an empty coffin and then left Patrick Doyle to raise him.”
“I thought disappearing would protect you.”
“You were wrong.”
“I know.”
Arthur wanted to hit him.
Instead, he walked away.
Paige stayed near the door.
Margaret sat in the front pew.
She looked unusually calm.
“Mom?”
Margaret smiled.
“I remembered.”
Thomas had contacted her after hearing that Rourke was moving again.
He had survived the crash twenty years earlier and entered federal witness protection under an informal arrangement that later collapsed when corruption infected the investigation.
He stayed hidden because Rourke believed him dead.
Margaret had been his only secret contact.
Then her memory began deteriorating.
Thomas lost the one person who knew how to reach him.
Until Rourke's men came asking questions.
The danger awakened fragments she had buried.
Arthur stood beneath the stained glass.
“You could have contacted me.”
Thomas looked at his son.
“I watched what you became.”
That sentence cut.
Arthur's expression hardened.
“You mean successful?”
“I mean feared.”
“Fear kept me alive.”
“It also kept everyone else away.”
Arthur looked toward Paige.
She was watching him.
Thomas noticed.
“And apparently someone finally refused.”
Paige suddenly found the church floor fascinating.
Arthur changed the subject.
“What can you give us on Rourke?”
Thomas produced a small drive.
“Everything.”
Current transactions.
Names.
Accounts.
Officials on payroll.
Shipping records.
Enough evidence to dismantle Rourke's legitimate empire.
But they needed proof connecting Rourke personally.
“He never signs anything,” Thomas explained.
Arthur smiled coldly.
“Then we'll make him talk.”
The plan was simple.
Which meant Paige hated it immediately.
Arthur would pretend to accept the waterfront deal.
Rourke would believe the evidence had forced Arthur into cooperation.
Evelyn would arrange the meeting.
Authorities would listen.
“What happens when he realizes?” Paige asked.
Arthur buttoned his jacket.
“He won't.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It's the only one I have.”
Paige followed him into the church vestibule.
“Arthur.”
He stopped.
“I need you away from this.”
“No.”
“Paige.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
She stepped closer.
“You keep trying to protect me by deciding things for me.”
“Because people around me get hurt.”
“People everywhere get hurt.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain it.”
Arthur looked at her.
For once, he did.
“When Patrick stabbed me, the worst part wasn't the knife.”
Paige remained silent.
“It was the second before it happened. I was hugging him.”
Arthur swallowed.
“I remember feeling safe.”
His voice nearly broke on the word.
“So my brain learned that safe is what happens immediately before pain.”
Paige's anger disappeared.
Arthur looked embarrassed by his own honesty.
She raised her hand slowly.
Then stopped.
“May I?”
Arthur stared at her hand.
“Yes.”
Paige touched his cheek.
Nothing happened.
No panic.
No violence.
Arthur closed his eyes.
When he opened them, Paige was still there.
“I can't promise nobody will hurt me,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“But you don't get to lose me before you've even had me.”
Arthur's eyes changed.
“Had you?”
Paige realized what she had said.
“That's not—”
Arthur kissed her.
It was not dramatic.
Not desperate.
Just careful.
Almost uncertain.
Paige's hand rested against his chest.
Arthur pulled away first.
“That okay?”
Paige stared at Chicago's most feared man.
“Did you seriously ask after doing it?”
“I've had limited practice with healthy communication.”
She laughed.
Arthur kissed her again.
From the sanctuary, Thomas's voice echoed.
“I may have been gone twenty years, but I'm still your father, and this church has excellent acoustics.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
Paige laughed harder.
For one brief moment, the war disappeared.
Then Leo called.
Pier Seventeen had changed.
Rourke had moved the meeting.
Gallagher Tower.
May you like
Arthur's own office.
And he was already inside.
