Girl from Oklahoma (Guns N Roses - Izzy Stradlin)

Family business

Meanwhile in Boston – Massachusetts

Patrick O'Connell tugs his coat tighter around his slim figure, while he's getting out of the car, slamming the door shut in raging anger.
'She can't just disappear like this! She just can't!'

Peter, his dark haired giant buddy, gently shuts the door of the driver's seat.
'Calm down. We'll find her, Pat. Just a matter of time.'
'We don't have time, Pete. We need to find her.' Patrick snorts, shoving his fingers through his red hair. 'I've got work to do and the sooner we get her out of the way, the better it is for everyone. We just can't have her talking to the cops. Without her there is no case.'
Peter reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He shakes one out, pulls it to his lips and lights it. Blowing out a blue ring of smoke, he shakes his head looking at his friend.
'I don't know why you didn't let me and one of the other guys take care of her in the first place. You could focus on business right now.'
Patrick narrows his eyes. 'She's my fucking sister, bud. This is personal.'
'Yeah. But I wish you'd mellow out. You're making me nervous.'

The redhead gives his friend a nod and shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat.
He breathes slowly, trying to calm down. For a minute it works.
The two men make their way across the street to the old Irish pub. That pub had been in O'Connell's family hands for ages. Patrick's whole family either works, lives or drinks here.
He thinks of Rylee again and the murderous fury returns. He'd outsmarted business partners, manipulated the law and the police and outmaneuvered some of the most powerful drug lords in the country. His own sister would not be his undoing.

He'd made the unforgivable mistake of underestimating Rylee, seeing only a sweet and innocent girl with a head full of simple dreams. He never intended her to find out that his fortune, the fortune of the whole family, was built on shipping drugs and guns to profitable and illegal markets.
Who would have guessed Rylee would disappear for weeks?

Opening the door to the shady pub, the two men directly make their way to the bar.
'Aileen, have you seen Da?' Patrick asks the young woman behind the bar, not even caring for a proper greeting. Everyone knows exactly who he is around here.
The young woman gives him a nod while drawing two pints of Guinness.
'Aye. He's upstairs. Said something about you should call your uncail Brian. Sounded urgent.'
Patrick frowns while Aileen puts the pints in front of the two men.
He wondered why he should call Brian. His uncle lived in California.

'You think she made it to Cali?' Peter asks, sipping on his beer. This whole situation is making him feel extremely uncomfortable. He already knew Rylee and Patrick a whole lifetime. Even though he's a bit older than Patrick, they went to Sunday school together. They have been hanging out at the same places, knowing the same people. They've always been family.
Patrick shakes his head in disbelieve wondering if Pete was kind of psychic, reading his mind like this.
'Nay. What should she possibly do in Cali? She doesn't know anyone there, right?'
And even if she made it to California. The Irish always end up with the Irish. He adds mentally. So maybe it really was a matter of time until she would show up somewhere.

Taking a big gulp of his beer, it was Peter's turn to shake his head.
'I think you're underestimating your sister again, bud. She's smart.' He tosses his cigarette into the ashtray and looks at his friend. 'Maybe you should just wait for her to come back. She loves you. She would never turn on her family.'
Snorting skeptically, Patrick pours down the rest of his beer.
'I wouldn't bet on that. She was in love with that fucking Finnegan. I'm not sure if she's ever going to get back. Da is furious. I really need to find her, Pete.'

Without expecting anymore conversation, Patrick gets up, letting his bar stool leave a scratching noise on the wooden floor.
'Going to talk to my Da. I want to know what's going on in California.'
Pete gives him a nod, watching his friend disappearing through the door. He feels lucky to avoid the old man. That motherfucker was even more frightening than his Da and his Grandda together.

Upstairs, Patrick lets out a huge sigh, shoving his fingers through his red hair. His Da is a real scary son of a bitch. And ever since Rylee skipped town, he was in his worst mood. She had always been his little girl. The thought of her maybe betraying the family was making him crazy.
Not caring to give it a prober knock, Patrick opens the door.
Liam O'Connell sits at a big, wooden table, holding a glass of whiskey. In front of him the matching bottle. Good old Jameson. Liquid gold, straight. The stuff his family has been drinking for ages. Even if they are American in the fourth generation now.
The appreciation of Irish whiskey has been passed to every O'Connell. They will always be Irish after all.

The old man raises his had as his son appeared in the door frame.
'Damn, Da. Get your shit together. You won't do any good drinking here all by yourself.' Patrick says, snatching the glass from his old man's hands.
'Don't you dare taking this away from me, son.' The old man growls.
The younger man shakes his head and pours down the brown liquid in once, placing the glass back in front of his father.
'So, you want to tell me why uncail Brian is suddenly in the picture? And why isn't he calling me directly? He shouldn't bother you.'
'Brian got his hand on Rylee's ID and other stuff. He called me. He's pretty sure she's in LA. Girl's not going to get out of there without money.'
Raising his blood shot eyes to his son, the old man sighs. 'You've got to find her, Patty. I can't lose her, too.'

Patrick frowns by the thought of his baby sister. Since the day his mother died, it has always been about Rylee. His father would rather let him go to jail than let anything happen to his little girl. Fuck.
He needs to go to LA himself before any of his moron relatives would find her.