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He forced down the urge to give the boy another hiding. He was sorry, not because Lance was battered and bruised, but because he felt no pity for him. Lance's eyelids were flickering, he was dreaming. Patrick knew that any other child would have been awake, would have been far too upset to sleep. He stared down at his son, wondering what he had bred. He knew that at some time in the future this boy would be an asset in any criminal undertaking but that as a child he was an anomaly. He found his dislike of his child was growing by the second. He wanted to drag him from the bed and make him understand just what he had done, but he knew that if he touched him, he would not be responsible for his actions. He needed to calm down first. The boy had been spoiled by his granny since he had first drawn breath and she had played a big part in all this. He had to blame her for a part of it, otherwise he would go mad. Well, he was going to sort the vindictive old bitch out. He needed to blame someone for his son's twisted nature and she was the prime suspect as far as he was concerned. Listening to the boy's soft breathing he knew he had to get away from him, to leave this room and all it entailed.

He crept into the other kids' rooms; the girls, as always, were asleep in one bed, a mass of plump limbs and baby sweat. Their lovely, long blonde hair was damp from their body heat and their rosy cheeks made his heart swell with love for them. They were good-looking children. All his kids were handsome and he was proud of them; at least he had been, until now. Kissing them lightly he went to his eldest boy's room and, opening the door, he saw he was awake as if waiting for him to come home. He guessed this was exactly what his son had been doing.

'All right, Dad?' Pat Junior smiled tremulously at his father.

Patrick sat on the edge of his bed and smiled back. 'What happened, son?'

Patrick knew he would get the truth from him, Pat Junior was as honest as the day was long.

'Mum was really cross, she went mad.'

Pat nodded. 'I can see that, mate, but she had reason to be, by the sounds of it.'

The boy reluctantly nodded in agreement; as always he was trying to look out for Lance.

'But he didn't mean it, Dad. He does bad things but he don't really mean to, he just doesn't think…'

Patrick loved this son of his; he knew that he was still trying to defend his brother even though Lance wasn't worth this loyalty. Lance had no loyalty or respect for anyone but himself.

'But he did hurt Maureen Callahan, Dad. I heard about it at school and I asked him about it. He denied it.'

Patrick nodded once more, the shame washing over him and leaving him feeling dirty.

'But you knew it was true, didn't you?'

Pat Junior nodded again as his eyes searched his father's for a hint of approval about how he was handling the problems his brother seemed to bring him on a daily basis. He didn't want to say outright that he had believed it from the off and that nothing his brother did surprised him.

'You're a good boy, son. Now relax and I'll talk to your mother and get it sorted. This is a serious thing that Lance has done, you do understand that, don't you?'

'I know. I felt sick when I heard. She could have been killed.'

Patrick shrugged, a nonchalant shrug that took all his willpower because he was going to lie and he knew it was important that his boy believed what he was going to say so he didn't feel any more guilt over his brother and his actions.

'This isn't your fault, mate. You couldn't have prevented this. Lance has a mind of his own and when I am finished with him he will wish he had never laid eyes on that girl or her family. This is not your problem, OK? You don't need to worry about this any more.'

Patrick looked into the face so like his own and wished he didn't have to deal with all this now. He had enough on his plate without a fucking Looney Tunes for a son. His actions seemed so far-fetched that he had thought it would turn out to be exaggerated or a big mistake. Now he knew that Lance was capable of anything. He was the child everyone was frightened of. Lance was a coward and it was that which made Patrick so angry; he had somehow bred a coward who had been able to bully his way through life because he bore the name Brodie.

Now he had to make some kind of sense out of this for Lil's sake and for this boy here, who he knew would be Lance's buffer to the world, until even he couldn't take it any more. He stroked Pat Junior's hair, feeling the thickness of it. The fact his son hadn't answered him was enough to make him change the subject and try to bring some normality into this twilight world the boy seemed to have stumbled into. Violence was his game and now it had crept into his home. All the years he had feared it encroaching on his family and he was stunned to find that its arrival had been heralded by one of his own children. This wasn't a boyish prank, it was a cold-blooded act of hate and as a man who used his strength and intimidation to earn a living, that was a very frightening thought. Controlled violence was one thing, as long as it didn't involve civilians and it was kept in their world. But the more he thought of his son's act, the more he knew he needed to be home more often than he was. Lance needed to be watched over and taught right and wrong. He needed a strong hand to guide him into the future.

Patrick forced a smile and said in a cheerful whisper, 'Looking forward to your party?'

Patrick Junior nodded but the pain and fear were still in his eyes and Patrick knew he couldn't do this now; he had too much on his mind. Now that Lance's actions had finally sunk in he needed time to digest and cogitate on what the outcome should be.

'Come on you, get to sleep. Let me sort this lot out, eh?'

The relief in the boy's eyes was evident; the problem had been taken away from him. Patrick felt guilt weighing on him heavily for leaving this child to shoulder so much of the burden in the household. He was going to have to get out of the game; delegate more of the day-to-day running of the businesses. He was getting past all the skulduggery that constituted his main graft, his earned wage. If the truth be told, he was finally getting fed up with it all.

The Williams brothers should have been taken out from the off and because of Spider and his low-life brother, he had left the situation for too long, all the while expecting Spider to sort it out. Well he hadn't, not in time for him anyway. He had let it go on and that had set off alarm bells. Spider had an achilles heel, as they all did to an extent, but where Patrick would take out a family member if the offence warranted it, Spider couldn't. Cain was on his last legs and so was Spider if he played up. He had given him ample opportunity to sort the lairy little fucker out. If Cain had been his brother the Williams brothers would have been warned off long ago. Cain would then have had his displeasure at the association pointed out to him with such force that he would have broken off any kind of friendship tout de suite.

Then he came home to another fucking war. Life was a bastard, there was no two ways about it. This son of his, who he loved more than life itself, was already carrying the weight of his siblings on his shoulders and he knew that if anything should happen to him, the boy would be carrying the mantle for this family long before he was due.

'Go to sleep, son. I'll sort it all out. Stop worrying, OK?'