Closer to the Edge

Paul knew it was probably a stupid idea, but it didn’t stop him from walking quietly down the hallway, looking around him, before sneaking into Rowan’s room. Nicolo had simply asked one thing of him while they were alone fifteen minutes before, and he was already breaking his promise. Nicolo had asked him to leave Rowan alone for a few hours, but Paul wasn’t able to do so. He shut the door quietly behind him, looking around.

He knew Rowan was upset with him. But he didn’t know why. And he didn’t want to wait a few hours before finding out.

Even though he had a slight limp, he made his way over to her bathroom door. It was open just a crack and he peaked in. Sucking in a deep breath, he knocked on the door softly.

“Who is it?” Her voice was soft, yet still annoyed.

It might have been a bad move to interrupt her but, well, Paul was used to bad moves when it came to, well, anything. “It’s me,” he said quietly.

Rowan sighed. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk,” Paul told her. “Can I come in?”

“I’m naked.”

“I’ve seen it before,” he joked.

“You’re not funny,” Rowan said. “Come on in.”

Paul opened the door slowly and walked in, taking his time to shut the door behind him, and taking even more time to sit next to the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, eyes meeting hers. He forced himself to not look down, even though he had the sneaking suspicion that she had made sure all essential parts were covered.

“For what?” she asked, her eyes closing as she rested her head against the tub. She was running low on energy and patience, and she knew this conversation was going to require both.

“For not thinking. Can I blame it on my concussion?” he asked a small smile on his face.

She barely opened her eyes, just long enough to glare at him. “That doesn’t work on me.”

Paul nodded slowly. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you. I’m annoyed with you. I’m frustrated with you. I have a migraine because of you. But I’m not mad at you,” she told him.

Paul nodded again. “Well, that’s good news.”

Rowan smiled, just softly, unable to contain it.

Paul pursed his lips. “Am I allowed to ask why you’re annoyed and frustrated because of me?”

Rowan sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Are you kidding me?”

He shook his head. “Should I be?”

“Paul, you’re not an idiot.”

“Is this because I said I didn’t care how we took out my father?”

Rowan sighed. “No, it’s about more than that.”

“Does this have anything to do with you saying that you couldn’t trust me?”

Rowan didn’t reply.

“Why do you think you can’t trust me, Rowan? We were fine the other day. I don’t understand.”

“If you don’t trust me, Paul, then I can’t trust you.”

“But I do trust you, Rowan.”

“How am I supposed to know that when you don’t tell me anything?!”

“I do!”

Rowan scoffed, sitting up slightly. “You didn’t even tell me what happened with your father.”

“That’s not because I don’t trust you, Rowan, it’s because I was embarrassed that he kicked my ass again,” Paul told her, his voice soft.

Rowan ran her hands over her face. “You suck at communicating.”

“So do you,” he told her seriously, even though there was a hint of humor in his dark eyes.

“I know,” she said sadly. “I can’t put my family at risk just because you have it out for your father, Paul.”

“”I understand that, I do,” he said, “and I’m trying not to put them in anymore danger than I have to. I just…want to get this taken care of so things can go back to normal.”

“Things will never be normal,” she told him. “Nothing will ever be normal for us.”

Paul sighed.

“Maybe we were doomed from the start,” she muttered.

“Why do you say that?”

“Maybe we were stupid to think this would ever work.”

Paul frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Paul, if this is the world that we’re going to be in, I can’t do this.”

Paul shook his head. “No, we can do this.”

“It’s too much. It’s the whole emotional detachment thing my mother tried to explain to me years ago, I guess. But I can’t deal with this as well as I thought I could. I’m not strong enough,” she said softly.

“Yes, you are strong enough, Rowan. If you want it bad enough, you fight for it.”

“Or you’re smart enough to know when it’s better to give up,” she commented.

“Don’t give up on us, Rowan, not before we’ve had a chance to actually start something.”

Rowan sighed. “What if—“

“Stop thinking about the what ifs, Rowan!” Paul exclaimed. “Do you want to be with me or not?” he asked, beginning to grow upset. He didn’t see how things could be fine one day and completely turn around within twelve hours. Of course, he didn’t have the most experience with actual relationships with women. This might have been his first lesson in how their minds worked and, well, he already wasn’t a fan.

Rowan didn’t answer.

“Because there are always going to be rough patches. And I can’t promise that it’s always going to be easy, but I can promise that it will always be worth it.”

“How can you promise that?” she asked, refusing to meet his eyes because she knew the tears that were building would fall.

“Because I care about you enough to fight for you,” he said. “And if I could take you away from this world, I would.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Paul,” Rowan told him.

Paul nodded. “I can keep this, and I will. I promise you that.”

+

Dinner that night was awkward. Paul’s mind seemed to be elsewhere while Rowan was struggling to remain focused on the conversation at hand. His thoughts kept returning to the conversation he had with Rowan in the bathroom; he desperately wished they had met under different circumstances. But as much as he told himself things could be different, he wasn’t sure if they ever could be. But there had to be a point when he resigned himself to the fact that the way things were would remain that way until he changed them. And Rowan was worth changing them for.

Dinner passed quickly enough and Paul found himself being shuffled into Nicolo’s office. The door was shut quietly behind him once Martin, Ash, and Rowan had entered. Paul didn’t miss the eyes of Rowan’s mother as the door shut and be found his mind wondering why she wasn’t being included. She had to know what was going on, and it was then that he truly understood the argument that Rowan had made earlier.

“Paul, is there any way that you could draw up blueprints of your house? Approximate dimensions and so forth?” Nicolo asked.

Paul’s head snapped up and his mind was brought back to reality. “Yes, of course. Why?”

Nicolo smiled (one that Paul knew Rowan had as well—they were definitely father and daughter). “I have a plan.”

“What’s your plan?” Martin asked, leaning against the wall.

“Every year, your wonderful father has a ball, doesn’t he?” Nicolo asked.

Paul paused. “Yeah, I hate that damn thing. It’s supposed to be some sort of tribute to what we do, a time when everyone can hide behind a mask and pretend to be something they’re…not…” he trailed off. What Nicolo had said finally started making sense. His eyes found Rowan’s across the room; he smiled and she rolled her eyes. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Rowan asked with a scoff. “You do understand what he’s trying to say, right?”

“Yes, I understand. I’m not a fucking moron,” he snapped.

“Don’t snap at me,” Rowan said. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Your father is trying to help me. You are trying to give me a migraine,” Paul told her.

“Role reversal for once,” she muttered.

Nicolo shook his head. “You two can argue later okay? Let’s just work on this for now.”

Paul nodded.

Rowan nodded along with him. “What’s the plan, dad?”

“I think the easiest way to do this is…” Nicolo trailed off. “Look, Paul. It’s easy for me to talk business when I’m not involved in their life in some way. This time I am, because of you and Rowan. I need to know that you’re in this, no matter what. And I need to know what you want out of this. Because my thought process only has a happy ending for those of us in this room,” he explained, his eyes never leaving Paul.

Paul nodded again.

“Are you in?” Nicolo asked.

“Yes,” Paul told him.

“Are you sure, Paul?” he prodded. “Because this isn’t a joking matter. This isn’t some teenage wishful thinking, having his father taken care of. This is serious. And I need to know that you are in so this doesn’t backfire on me later.”

“I’m serious, Mr. Delvecchio,” Paul said. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life. You know my father, maybe in a completely different way, but you know him. And this isn’t just about me. As long as he’s in Boston, other people are at risk. And whether those people are innocent or not are out of the question. He’s cold and he’s ruthless. He’s never told me that he loves me, and he’s never said one positive thing about anyone in my entire life. And I highly doubt he ever has in his lifetime either. So you can ask me if I’m sure, if you’re sure, if everyone is sure, until you’re blue in the face. But my answer will be, and will always be, a clear and resounding yes.. Yes, I am sure, Mr. Delvecchio,” Paul explained.

Nicolo studied his face, but he knew Paul was telling the truth. An explanation like that was too personal to be rehearsed, and he didn’t doubt the sincerity of his words. “Once we do this, we can’t undo it. And I need to know that all of you,” he said, making eye contact with the three other people in the room, “are ready for this.”

Rowan nodded solemnly; she knew what was at risk but she didn’t want to think about all the ways it could go wrong.

Ash nodded as well, her fingers entwined with her boyfriend’s.

“We’re in,” Martin said, and though his voice was quiet, it was just as strong as Paul’s.

“We’re all in this together, Mr. Delvecchio,” Ash said. “We might have started on different sides but we’re all loyal to a fault.”

“Good,” Nicolo said, motioning for Rowan to join him at his desk. He fanned out some photos he had printed off as the others joined him around the desk. He shoved a piece of paper and a pencil towards Paul. “Can you do a quick drawing of the layout and the rooms used for the ball? Along with all the other rooms that people might have access to.”

Paul nodded, sketching out the house quickly. It wasn’t good by any means, and none of it was to scale, but it was enough to give everyone a good enough visual. “I can do a better one later if you need it,” he told him.

“I will, thank you,” Nicolo said, picking up a pen from his desk and tracing the arrow Paul had drawn. “This is where the ball is going to be held, right?”

Paul nodded.

“How many people attend?”

“Over two hundred last year,” Paul said. “I know he was planning on inviting some more people. Mostly people on the DiGiovanni side, though he had mentioned inviting some of your…friends as well.”

Nicolo nodded. “I’ll not mention anything to them. If any decline, he’ll suspect involvement in some way,” he said. “Casualties are going to happen on both sides.”

“That’s expected,” Paul said. “What’s your plan on how to do it?”

“A shoot out would draw far too much attention,” Rowan said. “You know what our best bet would be?”

“Already thought about it, Rowan,” Nicolo said, “ and your…uncle Tyrice has already been contacted.”

Rowan smiled. “You did get the best, huh?”

“Well, I told you I thought of everything,” her father said with a shrug.

Paul’s brow furrowed. “What? Who’s…Uncle Tyrice?”

“Ex-Marine, ATF,” Rowan said.

“What does that mean?” Ash asked.

Paul couldn’t stop the smile that found its way onto his face. “It means he’s a bomb expert.”