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“Stop thinking so much.” Smirking, I sit down and tuck my leg under my butt, before leaning into him.
“Easy to say, not so easy to do.”
We sit there in silence, and before I know what happens, I’m in the black room again. The smoke forms little black clouds that engulf me whole. I can’t see. I’m stuck, and then I hear his voice. It sounds like he’s far away, but I see his hand--I see that ring flashing in front of my eyes. I reach out and take it.
Gripping Sean’s arm, I try to pull him to safety, but there is nowhere safe. I’m holding a severed hand, still dripping with blood. A scream rips through me, and I’m awake.
Sitting up, I gasp and look around. Sean isn’t next to me anymore.
“Oh, God.”
I throw my legs on the floor and rub my face. I stay like that for a moment, willing my heart to slow, when I hear the creak of wood floorboards. It could be a floorboard on the back porch. My spine goes straight, and my eyes widen. I get up and rush over to the wall, careful not to make a sound.
I don’t see Sean, just Marty’s granny furniture. I slide along the wall until I’m in a tiny kitchen. The back door is open, swinging gently in the wind, its window curtain flapping. The sound comes a second time. It’s closer, louder.
I can’t see anyone. It has to be Sean, but the way my body reacts makes me think it isn’t. As I inch closer to the window that overlooks the porch, I hold my breath. As I inch up to peer out the window, a voice booms behind me.
“What the hell are you doing?” Marty laughs and steps toward me. I scream like someone stuck a fork in my eye and fall on my ass.
“Marty? When did you get here?”
“Uh, last night. You slept for nearly twenty-four hours straight, princess.”
Confused, I look out the window. It’s sunrise. Did I seriously sleep that long?
“Really?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. You were run ragged. You could probably sleep for a week.”
As Marty talks, I look him over. He’s more tan than usual, and he's wearing tight black jeans and a fitted pocket t-shirt. His sandy hair is getting longer, so he’s slicked it back. He would look kinda nice if he weren't a freaking hit-man.
“Don’t give me that look.” He scolds, wagging a finger at me before sitting on a counter top.
“Like what? Like you lie too much or like I slept next to you, poured my heart out, and have no idea who you really are? 'Cuz they both suck.” Marty rolls his eyes. He slides off the counter.
“Go chew some Midol, princess. We can’t all be as forthright as you are. Oh wait, that’s right--you lie like a dog, too. Not to mention that you're rather smelly. If you don’t mind, shower, then we can fight.”
“I hate you.” I say the words without feeling, not meaning them. It’s more like I hate the fact that I still like him, that I still care about him.
He walks into a hallway, plucks a towel from a closet and hurls it at my head.
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know. I put fresh clothes in the bathroom for you.”
Tucking the towel under my arm, I shove past him. Marty stops me with his arm and looks down at me. His hair falls forward, softening his features.
“I’m glad you’re safe.”
I look up at him and want to cry. I want to tell him the same thing, but I can’t. My throat gets clogged with insults and nasty things to throw in his face for lying to me all this time.
“Avery, it’s okay that you’re mad. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I lose it. Sobs bubble up from deep inside me, and I fall apart. Tears roll down my cheeks as I stand there blubbering.
“I can’t do this! It was bad enough finding out that asshole Victor Campone is my father, but I have a brother too! And he doesn’t want to meet me and see how his little sis has been all these years, no! He wants to put a bullet in my head! And when they can’t get at me, they strike at those around me. I shouldn’t be here, Marty. You’ll end up with your throat cut, and--” The snotty crying has gotten so bad that my speech is no longer intelligible.
Marty steps in and wraps his arms around me. He holds me like that until I glance up and see Sean in the living room. I jump back like we were doing something wrong. I wipe the tears from my face and rush past him. When I get to the bathroom, I turn on the shower and cry, not even feeling the water cascade down my body.
They’re risking everything for me, and there’s no way to ditch either of them. I could run, sneak away in the middle of the night, but Sean will come looking and Marty will help him. I need to do something drastic, something that will make Sean walk away from me.
As I stand there, finally done crying, the hot water easing my sore body, an idea forms. It’s horribly cruel and completely final, but it will get Sean to walk away and not look back.
For a moment, I can understand what it must be like for Sean living with the death of his wife because I feel the same aching guilt about him getting sucked into all of this. The sensation only hardens my resolve. I have to do it, and I know he won’t forgive me for it.
Not ever.
CHAPTER 8
After being cooped up for three days in Marty's beach house, they finally agree it's safe to venture outside, but only after dark. The sun is setting, and Sean and I stroll down the private beach alone.
I tangle our fingers together and try not to focus on the rapid beating of my heart. I lean against him, enjoying the warm feel of his body against mine and wish it could stay this way forever. I want a life where there is nothing to run from, no one to fear. There's only one way to get it. I have to find my brother. I have to dismantle the remains of Victor's mafia, so there is nothing for Sean to take over.
Scenarios turn over in my mind, each ending with me in a body bag. I should have gone to college for something else. My degree does me no good here. Also, I should have taken a freaking gym class. As it is, my thighs are burning trying to walk in the sand. I didn’t think I was out of shape. Maybe I’m just tired. Sean squeezes my hand and glances over at me.
“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Smith?” The corners of my lips tug into a small smile.
“You’re richer than God and you offer me a penny? Are you cheap, Mr. Jones?”
“Only when it comes to you.” He says it deadpan and then smirks.
I stop walking, my jaw dragging on the sand. “You did not just say that!”
“What are you going to do about it?” Sean turns toward me and pulls me to him. He places a hand on my cheek and sweeps his fingers across my skin, leaving a tingly sensation every place he touches.
Reaching up, I put my arms around his neck and pull him toward me, so we’re eye to eye.
“Mr. Jones, do you seriously want to be beat up by a girl, right here on the beach? Don’t tempt me.” There’s a smile in my voice even though I’m dying inside.
“Then stop being so damned sexy.” He presses the tip of his finger to my nose. “Boop.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “Really? ‘Boop’?” He nods.
“It’s a trick I learned from this hot chick. She’s going to be a shrink, so she knows all this Freudian stuff about reading people and getting into their heads. The thing is, she’s so far into mine, that I’ll never be the same. She has no idea how amazing she is, and how much she’s worth. She also thinks she can take on the world alone, but she doesn’t have to.” His voice is so soft that I can barely hear him over the sound of the waves. We stand there like that, watching each other. “Don’t do whatever you’re considering doing.”
I don’t want to deceive him. I don’t want things to be like this, but I’m the one pulling him down. I nod and slip my hands down his firm sides, feeling the pads of my fingers slip over each firm muscle until I rest my hands at his waist.
The thought is in my eyes, and I know he sees it. Sean can see right through me, that’s why it kills me to say this, but I have to do it. A knife to the heart will
add blood to the water. It will taint everything, every emotion, every thought.
Pressing my lips together, I look down at the sand and spit it out. “Sean, I don’t want to talk about it now. Talking about this will only make what's already hard, harder.” He swallows hard and watches my face.
