I sigh. I’ve already told her it was a short fling and we’re no longer together. The words hurt, and I’ve got to question if they’re true, considering he’s still got people following me around. If he didn’t care, why hire people?
“He’s gone, Grandma,” I say.
“He’sdead?”
“What? No! We broke up. There were some… complications.”
“Anything can be worked out when true love is at stake.”
“True love?” I huff. “You’ve got the wrong idea. We hardly even know each other. We’ve been onone date. It’s not true love or anything like that. It’s something I’ll look back fondly on, something I’ll cherish, and that’s that.”
“I knew the moment I met your grandfather,” she says stubbornly. “The moment we laid eyes on each other. Oh, it was like a motion picture. He swooped in and… just like that, everything changed. I was no longer the same person, nor could I imaginebeingthe same person. I want you to have something special like that too.”
I blink, but I haven’t cried since everything went to hell. Now that Grandma is getting the care she needs,notfrom my sadistic uncle, I feel freer, more able to act, to think. To hate. I’m not scared. I’m infuriated.
“I saw the way you looked at him,” Grandma murmurs. “I saw the love in your eyes. I was so happy, because I knew I wouldn’t have to leave without seeing you settled.”
I stare out the window. Okay, maybe that not-crying thing was a little arrogant. I wring my hands together.
“Are you praying?” Grandma says approvingly.
“You know that’s not my thing.”
“I thought you might be praying for things to turn out okay with your man.” She lets her head fall sleepily against the pillow.
“Get some rest, Grandma,” I murmur.
I wait until she falls asleep, then take out my phone and hold my thumb over Dominic’s name, over the text icon. So much of what we shared was through words exchanged on a phone screen, like we both needed that emotional distance to fully connect.
He doesn’t want me. He’s made that clear. I’ll just make a fool of myself if I text him again.
I put my phone away.
CHAPTER 22
DOMINIC
Istand at the water’s edge with the city as my skyline, like a mob boss in a movie shaking down a cop. The cop in question is Marco Aquila. He’s had a soft spot for Vale Construction ever since we helped build a new community center for his precinct’s softball team.
He takes an envelope from his pocket, frowning at me. A short man, intelligent eyes, with combed-over wet black hair. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have called you otherwise.”
I try to let my voice come out casually, in control, not like a man whose world is spiraling into chaos. Ever since Sebastian dropped the bombshell on me, I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s all a lie. He’s a liar. But my mind won’t stop skimming over memories, nasty comments here and there from my father, things I’ve buried and ignored because I loved him too much.
Marco hands me the envelope.
“Just tell me,” I grunt.
“All signs indicate that he’s telling the truth,” Marco sighs. “The accident report, police report, hospital report, they’re all inside. It seems your father managed to pay off a witness and bribe one of the investigators. There’s also an official letter of complaint from Sebastian Armitage. A local officer told me some of them were pissed at the time, but the officer your father bribed was their superior. Nothing they could do.”
I walk right to the edge of the water, trembling. My father ran down a family of three, killed the wife and child, then refused to face justice. Worse, when the husband showed up years later, he didn’t even recognize him. Which means he ran from the crash before he had a chance to get a look at him, then ignored his complaints after.
“Do you need me to stay?” Marco says from behind me.
“No,” I whisper. Louder:“No.”
I never claimed to be perfect, my father whispers.Remember that time I threw the cup at the wall. I always said I wasn’t aiming it at your mother. But that was only a justification. I was trying to hurt her.
