“Didn’t you see how he was? He was fucking possessed by a demon. I had to do something to stop him. When I told you he was fucked up, I meant it. I’m not in the dark. I know he goes batshit crazy when he gets angry. He got in trouble before for it. He got locked up for six months in one of those hospitals.”
“You mean a psychiatric hospital?”
“For the criminally fucking insane hospital.”
That was news to me. Ty had never told me about it. It was surprising yet in a way expected. Did I want to know what Ty did to earn it? Probably not.
Laius shook his head. In disapproval? “It was better than prison. I paid a lot of money to get him that deal, put him in a fancy ass hospital and got his record expunged. I thought the doctors might help a little, but somehow he got worse when he came out. I’d never seen him like that. You said you did? How? When?”
“I taught him for a year. You think episodes like that just sprout all of a sudden out of nowhere?” I said way too defensively. “He…he had a similar one at school. If you don’t believe me, call Delilah to check.”
“Jo, baby, don’t be like that. Not now.”
“And while you’re at it, check the story of Mark Chadwick, too.” I ignored his demand, remembering how mad I was at him before Ty came crashing down on us. “But I swear to God, if you hurt an innocent boy based on a fucking rumor, we’re done, Furore. I don’t care if you threaten me or fuck me into subordination. I don’t care how much I love you or how much you love me. If you hurt that poor boy, we’re fucking done.”
He reached out an arm, but I spun and walked toward the banister. “Oh, and by the way, I decided the idea of teaching here was good after all. It’s a great motivation for your son to go back to school and stay away from violence.”
CHAPTER 13
Jo
My wig had bangs to cover the bump on my forehead. I put on the only pencil skirt and formal jacket I’d packed with me. I was hanging by a thread. Too distraught to be around either Laius or Ty to throw a casual good morning, let alone let them take me shopping for a new interview outfit.
How was I supposed to process and deal with the facts I clashed against in the past three days? One, my life was in more danger than it’d ever been since I was rescued by Michele when I was eight. I had ten more days to find a way around Mario Lanza’s birthday party or on the eleventh day, I’d be forced to go and most likely never come back. Laius had sent his men everywhere to gather enough support, and they were doing their best—they were barely here, out all day and night to bring allies to what seemed to be an inevitable war—but the look on Laius’s face wasn’t promising.
Two, Ty didn’t wrong me as much as I thought he had when he left. He was protecting me, not abandoning me. As sweet and noble as that was, it messed me up. Despite how toxic and dangerous Ty was, despite how my feelings had changed for him after I’d fallen for his dad, Ty’s chivalrous act jumbled my feelings. It made me feel guilty and ashamed of my love for his father, and it rekindled something I had for Ty I should never have again. It was wrong on so many levels, too much for the rebels of my conscience, and I was the teacher who slept with a minor student of hers. I wished I hadn’t known the truth. It ruined everything so much I couldn’t see either of them the same ever again. It left me with a disturbing question desperate for an answer. One I slapped every time it pulsed against my skull because I wasn’t ready for the answer, whatever it was.
Three, my phone was missing. None of Texas, Hook or the prospect had found it. Laius wasn’t lying about not having it. It meant one thing. Someone took it. That someone was Michele. Who else could have? My call had gone through, and he must have heard the altercation. Which meant another thing. Michele must have believed I was in danger, and he had to be out there looking for me. Yes, another war was coming. The people I loved were in more danger than they thought they were.
I used to think Ty ruined me, and then Laius finished the job for good. ButIwas the ruin of every single person that had ever loved me. First Mom, who died because of her love for me. If she’d aborted me like my father ordered her, she’d have still been alive and none of the horrors that had happened after would have. Now, it was the two men that had my heart and the people that were ready to sacrifice their lives for them. About to raze them down in the middle was a cold— soon to be blazing—war between two Mafia families, the Lanzas and the Bellomos. Why? Because of me. Because of my unwanted existence that brought nothing but shame, ruin, feuds, destruction and death.
I put the lesson plan I’d been working on all night as a distraction and my resume together in a folder and headed downstairs.
Ty stared at me, taking in my outfit, the unsettling gleam in his eyes a stark contrast against the black and blue bruises.
I looked around. There weren’t many people at the lounge or kitchen that early in the morning, but the few that were there, Laius, Doc and a girl named Lolita, whom I’d learned belonged to him, were looking at me warily, too, making me self-conscious. “What?”
“It’s kind of weird to see you in that outfit with that hair and eyes after I…knew what you really look like,” Ty said. “It’s like you’re two different people. Sometimes, I don’t know whom I’m looking at.”
He wasn’t talking about my appearance, obviously. He’d seen what I looked like before, and I’d always switched looks. In private, with him, I was Jocasta. In public, I was the fake Italian brunette. He must have meant the Jo he knew when I was with him, the virgin, recluse teacher who looked like me now in this outfit, and the new Jo, the biker’s girl with a property tattoo, with her cream blond hair and Irish eyes out in the open where people could see, while his father roughed her out in bed, again where people could see—where he could see.
I cleared my throat and glanced at Laius. “Are you coming with us today?” It was going to be awkward. I had no idea how to behave when the three of us were alone anymore. I’d barely spoken two words with either of them since that fist fight.
He took his time, eyeing me from head to toe. Was it longing or derision? “Good morning to you, too,Miss Meneceo.”
I cleared my throat again. The way he said my name like that had never lost its damping effect on my panties. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You’re out of pants?”
“Excuse me?”
“When I was your student, I didn’t see your legs until you were saying goodbye.”
“You were a student at a maximum security prison not a high school.”
“Hungry, lonely prisoners aren’t more predatory than hormonal teenage boys, Miss Meneceo,” Ty joined the conversation, handing me a cup of coffee. “Here. I made it myself, exactly as you like it.”
Blinking, I took it from him, unappreciative of the continuous reminder that he knew how I liked my coffee and Laius didn’t. It meant nothing. “Thanks.” I switched my glance toward Laius. “Yes, I’m out of attire appropriate pants. I told you I needed new clothes for the interview. What I’m wearing is the only formal outfit I have at the moment, not that anybody has a say in how I choose to dress.”
