Ray Donovan

Previously on Ray Donovan...

Your father's been here.

What did you say to him?

I don't remember.

I have a brain tumor.

Father Danny, he's here in LA. I seen him.

Is that the one that abused Bunchy?

It wasn't only Bunch.

They don't know, do they?

I told you to shut up.

I loved you.

See what I'm saying?

We could knock this place off real easy.

Terry. This is my son.

He's gonna be our muscle.

Try this one.

You're a cop.

You never know when you're gonna get in trouble.

If you do, give me a call.

I think I'm in love with you.

Kate McPherson, Boston Globe.

She's a reporter.

She's gonna publish an article

that says I paid him to kill Mickey.

She has to be stopped.

You buried a Catholic priest at a Jewish hospital?

Anything happens to Kate McPherson,

that body comes up.

You think fucking this guy's gonna make you feel better,

but it won't.

It feels pretty fucking good right now, Ray.

I'm locked in!

Where's Terry?

Just drive, son.

Here's your cut.

Keep counting, Mick.

I'm the one going to jail.

Kate McPherson is dead.

What?

There was an explosion, and I think I broke my arm.

You almost killed your grandson.

You sent Avi.

Of course I did.

You don't know who you are anymore, Ray.

It's over, Ezra.

What are you doing, Raymond?

Yeah, I'd like to report a body.

Raymond.

[heart monitor beeping, oxygen machine pumping]

Mr. Goldman.

Mr. Goldman, can you hear me?

Mr. Goldman.

My name is Thomas Romero.

I'm a Servant of the Paraclete.

Paraclete?

I minister to broken priests.

No last rites.

I'm a Jew.

A call from your office

led to the body of a murdered priest.

I tried to make a monument.

Did you make that call?

You can't tell Ruth.

She's suffered enough.

Who made the call, Mr. Goldman?

- What are you doing? - Did you make that call?

He doesn't want a priest. He doesn't...

Who made the call, Mr. Goldman?

He doesn't want a priest.

I understand.

I'll pray for you, Mr. Goldman.

The girl I killed.

Sweetheart, you didn't kill anyone.

Ray needs to know.

Ray hasn't spoken to you in months, Ezra.

- Call Ray. - No, Ray isn't here.

Call him, call him.

Call Ray!

- Nurse? - Call Ray!

- Nurse? - Ray!

_

Where is he?

You can't go back there this time, Ray.

- Give me a fucking break. - Ray.

- Ray. - Flip!

Ray.

Is that you, Ray?

Open the door, Bob.

We know who he is, Ray.

Open the fucking door.

She wants more money, man.

Jesus, Ray.

Give me the fucking key.

[woman moans, Flip screams]

- Flip? - In here!

Oh, God! In here! In here!

Ray! Oh!

God, no, don't, no, no, don't let go.

He stiffed my glory hole.

They zip-tied my cock...

- - And balls!

Third time he pleasure himself and run

without paying, third time.

500, right?

Not anymore.

He told me he's important man.

Big scandal.

Many people like to see.

- You pay 6,000. -

I'm gonna... I'm gonna... I'm gonna lose consciousness.

No one's gonna pay you 6,000 for this asshole's picture.

$6,000, or I call the Stalkerazzi.

Okay.

Oh, God!

Hello.

- Marty, it's Ray Donovan. - Uh-huh.

You got any interest in a picture

of Flip Brightman fucking a glory hole?

Flip who?

Brightman.

Who?

Flip Brightman.

Stop wasting my fucking time, Donovan.

Ray, Ray.

Trust me, he's nobody.

In the future,

can you please tell the chaplain not to visit?

We don't have a chaplain on tonight.

Excuse me?

Okay, okay, thanks.

Ezra.

Oh, Ezra.

Oh, Ezra.

Oh, my love.

Can I bum a cigarette?

Thank you.

Hey, Ray.

Well, it looks like it's gonna be

another beautiful day in Southern California!

Ray...

I-I have a disease, okay?

That guy in there with his cock and balls zip-tied,

that guy wasn't me.

That guy was my addict.

Yeah, well, one of you owes me $2,000.

_

So my fucking ex-boyfriend calls me drunk last night,

and it's like, "What?

Am I supposed to come over to your house?"

- You okay? - And then I say to myself,

"Mandy, you just have to fucking say no."

How many times are you gonna fucking do this?

You just go over to his house. The same shit happens.

Yeah?

Ezra's dead.

What?

He's gone, Ray.

The fuck you talking about?

I'm so sorry.

Fucking say no, particularly to the men in my life.

Ray, you there?

I'm so fucking tired.

Where are you?

I mean, can we all just stop pretending?

Come home.

That's not a good idea.

Then I'll come to you.

No.

Go back to sleep.

I'm done.

Seriously fucking done.

And this time I totally mean it.

I know I've said it before...

Please fasten your seatbelts

and raise your chairs to the upright position.

We'll be landing at Los Angeles International Airport shortly.

Tip the country on its side,

and everything that falls loose lands in LA.

I'm just gonna focus on myself for now.

I'm completely through with men, you know.

Yes!

Oh, yes!

Yes!

Oh, God, yes.

[reporter speaking indistinctly on TV]

While the kidnapper's demands are not known,

judging by the family's fortune, they're sure to be substantial.

Now Flip with the five-day forecast.

And it's gonna be another beautiful day

in Southern California.