Billie laughed and laid her head over on Tommy's shoulder, smiling up at him, "I have a futon actually. It's all yours."

She turned to the driver, giving him directions before they sped off toward her home. 

The wind whipped around the Island's point, biting into Thomas' uncovered face. The flower garden had been reduced to weeds with the winter fronts coming. Thomas stood over his brothers grave...

"I know yer nae here, James... I just wanted ta reach out ta yeh an' let yeh know. I joined wit' tha Paragons today." He produced a full bottle of Irish Single Malt... It was still a rare commodity here with prohibition, but the occasion was justified.

He popped the cork and took a heavy swig of the drink before dumping the rest of the bottle over James' grave. "I figured yeh'd want ta have a drink wit' me ta celebrate joinin' wit' yer old crews." He jabbed the empty bottle into the dirt where Bishop's body had been buried and left the empty bottle there as he walked off, lighting a cigarette on his way back to the road.