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“My father really liked it too. They hung it up on the wall right then and there.”
I wanted to say something nice, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She had the life I wanted, and I was the one sitting alone in my office, thinking about the man I wanted to kill, thinking about my mother’s dead body eaten by cockroaches in the dumpster.
Life wasn’t fair, and I never got used to it.
She had everything.
I lost everything.
I hated her.
But I swallowed my anger as much as I could and kept my fury bottled inside. I was the one who called her, after all. “That’s nice.” That was the best I could do, so I hung up and turned off my phone so she couldn’t call me back.
I had an endless supply of scotch, so I opened another bottle and poured a glass.
And I drank until I passed out.
I sat on the couch in the darkness of her apartment and waited for the sound of her approach. She said she would be back this evening, and I made the two-hour drive so I could be there when she walked in the door. Her happiness infuriated me, and the only way I could numb the pain was by burrowing myself between her legs.
It was the only form of revenge I could have.
The only thing that could stop me from thinking these bad thoughts.
Voices came louder as people approached.
“You don’t need to carry my stuff, Con.” Vanessa’s beautiful voice came through the door.
“I know I act like I hate you, but I don’t. Let me carry your shit.” Conway’s deep voice came next. His appearance came into my mind. I remembered how he looked at the Underground, in his finest suit. I’d wondered if he knew who I was—like I knew who he was.
The keys moved in the door.
I was tempted to stay put, to let him look at me when he walked inside. He wouldn’t be armed, and his pregnant fiancée would be in the car downstairs. I could kill him then go after her next. Carter would probably be there, but I could handle him if it was one-on-one. Vanessa would come after me with everything she had.
I’d have to kill her too.
But I wouldn’t break my word to Vanessa. She kept her end of the deal and didn’t tell her family what was going on. So I walked into her bedroom and hid out of sight.
They stepped inside seconds later.
Conway was in a black jacket and jeans, looking so much like his father it seemed like Crow Barsetti was in the house. “You want me to put these in your bedroom?” He had her two bags in each hand.
“No.” Her answer flew out fast, an instinctive reaction. She knew I was in the bedroom even if she couldn’t see me. She probably felt my presence, felt my possessiveness even in a different room. “I got it. You should get going. It’s been a long day.”
“So fucking stubborn.” He dropped her bags on the floor. “You’d think I would get used to it, but I never do.”
“You’re more stubborn than I am.”
“But much better looking.”
I listened to their sibling-bickering with annoyance. I didn’t have a brother or a sister. Neither of my parents lived long enough for the luxury.
“Thanks for giving me a ride home,” Vanessa said. “Christmas was nice.”
“It was,” he said in agreement. “Mom and Dad really liked that painting.”
“Yeah…” Her voice softened. “Seems like they did.”
I turned the corner and watched them by the front door.
Conway wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m right down the road.”
“I know.” She hugged him back.
“Merry Christmas, sis.” He kissed her forehead then walked out.
She watched him leave before she shut the door behind him. She turned the lock and kept her position in the entryway, her back rising and falling hard. She knew I was just down the hall, and getting her brother out of there as quickly as possible was her goal. She didn’t want us breathing the same air. Her forehead rested against the door for a few seconds before she stepped back.
I stepped out of her bedroom and made my way down the hallway and into the living room. She didn’t turn back to me, already knowing I was there before she heard my footsteps. Like she was using her body as a shield between me and the exit, she didn’t move. She was scared. I could see it in the way she held herself.
It was the first time I’d ever seen her that way.
I stopped behind her, my chest pressing into her back. My arms circled her petite waist, feeling the thick jacket that covered her body. My head angled down, and I kissed her on the neck, feeling her frantic pulse right against my lips. Her heart was beating so fast, the terror ripping through her in waves.
