“What’s going on is that Lana called me and told you what you did. We talked about this. Having Lana involved was crucial to the success of this,” he reminds me.
“I decided that his blood is worth having on my hands. Why have her take the rap for it? He was my father, after all,” I say.
“Yes, but she was more than willing to end him. And given her relationship with Christian, he would have her fixed up and new in no time, making her untraceable.”
I laugh. “You’re sounding more like a criminal than a cop right now.”
“I’m very much still a cop, who is trying to help the lesser of two evils, one being my cousin, who is more like a fucking brother,” he says, breaking his previously hushed tone.
“Christian will work his magic, whether she has bloody hands or not. I needed to end him, to close the chapter that has remained unwritten, haunting mine and Sienna’s lives,” I seethe.
“Next time you want to veer from the plan, consult me first. There is only so much I can do to help you. Vanessa was supposed to meet with your father today, and she’s going to know something is up when he doesn’t show.” He doesn’t hide his disappointment in his voice.
It’s not that he isn’t used to my impulsive behavior, he just always worries that one of these days I will be too impulsive, and he won’t be able to save me from it.
“We’ll be gone by the time she puts anything together,” I remind him.
“Remember, the ‘we’you are referring to won’t happen if you are in jail. I’m a cop, not a magician. There is no guarantee that if Vanessa pieces together what you did, I will be able to save you from her,” he says, taking in a deep, stress-filled breath.
“I’m not asking you to. Now, head over to the old warehouse. I have the bastards corpse to dispose of,” I say casually.
“Yea, I know. Lana filled me in. I’ll be over in twenty,” he says, immediately turning the radio channel off as it fades to irritating static.
I feel a sudden strange ache coming from my ribcage. I must have pulled something, either in the struggle with my father or when I was entangled with Sienna. It’s an interesting life I lead, killing and fucking, all within one hour. As I rub my rib to try to relieve the ache, I remember the intentional scar my flesh holds there. I immediately feel an ache in my chest. A memory repressed for so long that its reemergence feels more crushing than comforting.
As I remove my hand from my rib, I hear my calluses scuff against the fabric of my shirt. Reminding me, yet again, of what could have been mine. I lift my hand, sliding a black glove onto it, then switching hands, doing the same to the other. I grab my toolbox as I begin to clean up.
I think back to the ache I felt just moments before I re-entered the area that’s pooling in blood. A king is nothing without his queen. I remind myself as I pick up the saw. She is worth the bloodshed, the betrayals, the sorrow.
I’m doing this for her.
I’m doing this for us.
Chapter43
Sienna
Heat radiates on my cheeks as I slam the car door. Frustration kills any ounce of lust I felt just moments before. I stare out the tinted window at the most infuriatingly intoxicating man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.
Every time he summons me under the guise of work, it doesn’t take long for our undeniable desire for each other to take hold.
There is still time for me to abandon ship. It’s only been two full days that I have been in the city. There are plenty of other fishandemployers in the sea, right? Who am I kidding? If only it were that easy. Carmine Moretti isn’t just any man; he is an incubus. He haunts my dreams, invades my reality, and leaves me constantly desiring more of him. I moved to the city with the naïve hope that I would be able to start over and escape my past, yet I feel like I’m running into an even more fucked-up version of it. He knows it, too. Every time he stares at me, with those chillingly beautiful onyx eyes, and grins that deliciously evil grin, he knows I won’t run. He fucking counts on it. He is quicksand, and I am trapped, drowning in him.
I remember talking to Mama once about the concept of soulmates. This was shortly after I first met Leo. We were young and carefree, but in his presence, there was a deep familiarity, one that felt like home. I made the mistake of trying to open up to Mama about it and I can still hear her laugh buried deep in my psyche.
“Hija, soulmate implies that our souls know what is best for us, but it’s not our souls that determine our love, it’s God. You are young still, pray to God that he will show you what is best for you. Don’t be fooled by the enemy trying to confuse you with your own instincts,”she said.
I scoff as I recall her words. Religion robbed her of the ability to step outside of herself for just a moment to consider that there could be more than the doctrine that has been ingrained in us from birth.
That specific conversation has replayed in my head for years. It has consumed me, even admittedly over the grief I feel for my parents at times. That’s the thing with unresolved anger; it festers and boils over the good things, tainting everything. All my memories of her are of a mother who didn’t know how to give motherly advice. I know she loved me, but all she ever did was preach to me about a god that dictates our personalities, our morality, our everything here on Earth. Shaming us if we do not conform, without giving tangible proof that our conformity to his rules will make it better when our life here ends. All the hollow preaching robbed me of the ability to think for myself, and worse, made me feel guilty for much of my life for attempting to do so.
Maybe that is why I am in the fucked-up position I find myself in now. Maybe I am fucked up, or maybe I am the product of being steered so far in one direction that I have grabbed the wheel and derailed myself off a cliff of logic or reason. I am what happens when you are pushed too far to conform.
As we continue to drive in silence, I am immediately grateful that Carmine’s driver, Rufus, isn’t one for small talk. Finally, a peaceful ride without having to deal with Eric’s antics. I go to call Titi Lana to find out more about what she had to tell me from the warehouse, but instead, I decide that can wait. I just want to fade into the silence, because I know a storm is on the horizon. I can feel it.
* * *
I exit the elevator and head in the direction of my office. The office I have spent minimal time in since I started working at Marked Inc. Who knows how long I will even spend there today, because Carmine, as usual, gave me no real directives, other than that file folder I already have.
