“To get away from my family,” she explained, feeling the shield to keep her lies protected fall and shatter. All that remained was the cold, hard truth and her brutally raw soul. “Like the newspapers say, my dad runs a drug operation in Chicago with mob ties. He and my two older brothers spin a web of unspeakable crimes.” She paused, drawing in a shaky breath before continuing. “I was never brought into the business. I only knew what I knew from things I saw, conversations I overheard. By the time I finished high school, I knew that my father and brothers were very bad people. But I figured I could get away, at least for awhile. I had plans of going to college, although it was expected that I’d come home immediately after, marry one of my father’s associates, and carry on the family legacy.” Vet school had been a dream, even back then. But she figured it would never happen. “But then a deal went wrong. My mother paid the price.”
Hunt straightened. “How? What happened?”
She let her mind wander, going back to that day. “I’d turned eighteen, and my parents threw a big party. Everyone was drinking, having fun, but then there was a gunshot.” The screams from that day etched into her memory. All so vivid. Too vivid. “No one knew where it came from, but a shot that was obviously meant for my father missed him and hit my mom.”
“Jesus, Lottie,” Hunt sputtered. Then he shook his head, color leaving his face. “I mean, Marissa.”
“No, not Marissa,” Lottie said firmly. “I haven’t been Marissa for seven years. My mom’s middle name was Charlotte. I wanted to honor her in some small way. I’m…Lottie.” She felt like screaming her name repeatedly as all her secrets came out to remind herself of just who she was.
“Okay, Lottie, then,” Elise said, after Hunt stayed silent. “Were you there when this happened?”
Lottie dared a glance at Archer. His glare hadn’t changed, burning her up where she stood. She took it—she deserved his anger. She’d broken his trust. She’d ruined their friendship. “I was there, yes.”
Hunt squeezed her hand, drawing her attention back to his strong gaze. “What happened to the shooter?”
Lottie pointed to the picture of the man who had been in her building. “My brother Leo killed him.”
“Was there ever a charge for that?” Hunt pressed.
She laughed dryly, her soul turning to ice. “These aren’t the type of people who get caught. If there’s no body, no one reporting the person missing, how can there be a crime? But rival families knew Leo had taken care of the shooter. There was a war brewing. I knew I had to escape.”
Hunt’s lips pressed together tightly, worry lines creasing in his forehead as he released her hand to pick up the photo and studied her older brother.
The silence became so thick, daunting, that Lottie sighed in relief as Elise asked, “There is one other thing that I think you should know.” She shifted through the folder and then offered Lottie a piece of paper.
Lottie stepped closer and took it, disbelieving her eyes. She read the document. Once. Twice. Thrice. Before the words sank deep into her head.
Death Certificate.
Angelo Ricci
“I don’t know if you know this, but your father recently passed away,” Elise said, sympathy full in her voice. “I’m so sorry.”
Lottie’s hand shook, and the paper fluttered to the floor. Roaring sounded in her ears. She knew what her leaving Chicago would have done to her family. The betrayal they would have felt—particularly her brothers. The rage that she’d stolen money. But…she also knew her father wouldneverhave her killed. Even if he did know where she lived, which apparently, he had.
Now the only person protecting her was dead.
The much-needed air her lungs required was seemingly impossible to find as the room spun around her. She heard the conversation continuing. Even picked up a few things. Hunt saying, “Thank you, Elise.”
Elise responded, “It doesn’t feel good to bring you this.”
Archer adding, “I’m fucking pissed.”
Then roaring in her ears. More roaring. So much roaring.
Until a few things Archer said registered. “I have to tell Rhys…membership revoked.”
Until there was nothing but the roaring after Hunt shut the door behind Elise and Archer. The thundering of her heartbeat, the coldness of the sweat dripping down her spine became all she knew. Her feet carried her without thought, her stomach heaving. She heard Hunt calling for her, but she aimed for the bathroom. Tears fell heavy, like they could wash away all the pain, the past, every damn thing, as her stomach emptied itself, alongside her soul.
Hunt leaned against the wall,staring at the bathroom’s closed door. One hour had gone by. Then another. He might have been worried if he hadn’t heard Lottie crying. She’d thrown up until her heaving went quiet. Pain, misery, he had heard before. The sound of loss, of an unfathomable pain, but Hunt suspected this had little to do withher father’s death, but more so, that the new life she’d created and protected was now exposed.
When the door finally opened, a red-eyed, ashen-faced Lottie came out. Upon seeing Hunt waiting, she froze, like a deer caught in the frightening beam of bright headlights. “You’re still here,” she gasped.
He slowly arched an eyebrow. “Where do you think I’d go?”
“I thought you’d leave,” she barely got out. She padded her way by him, heading into the bedroom, and then lay down in the bed, pulling the covers up to her shoulders.
He moved to her, drawn by the heady pull he’d always felt around her. His head swam as he desperately fought to pull all the missing pieces together to get to the bottom of this. Of why she’d lie about her past. About her name. About her family.
