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Luciano rises as we approach, Bruno and Effie follow his lead, and my blood boils when I notice a slight wince to her movements.
“Gentlemen,” Luciano welcomes as we sit down. Cash is the only one of us who relaxes back in his seat. The others and I cross our arms or steeple our fingers, elbows resting on the table. “We have a clear and unavoidable problem that threatens both our families.” His snobby voice pisses me off, and I can’t stop thinking that his slicked back black hair looks greasy.
“You think? Breaking a decade old truce tends to make things a little rocky—”
“Finneas,shut the fuck up,”Cash barks, and I shift in my seat, rolling my shoulders and neck. “It’s now irrelevant how we got in this situation, what matters is getting out of it.”
“I won’t deny the role my family played.” I balk at his audacity, and Roan curses under his breath. “But this outcome is not one we ever intended—”
“Yeah, no shit,” I slam my palms on the table and rise, “Youintendedon robbing us blind and starting another fucking war.” I can’t look at Effie when she flinches at my raised voice.
“Sit down, son,” Luciano orders, and I truly regret not sneaking in at least a knife.
“I amnotyour son.” My jaw clenches, and my fingers whiten on the table.
“The governor’s not going to let this disappearance slide under the rug. He won’t stop looking, and he won’t hesitate to bring the full force of the FBI, police, and his under-the-table goons down on us. Because unlike you two,” he pointedly flits his gaze at me then his daughter, “He’s not stupid. He’s seen what you sent Hudson, and he’s putting the pieces together.”
“It’s all circumstantial and speculation. He won’t find a shred of admissible evidence.” I slump back in my chair and crack my knuckles.
“Maybe not, but he can subpoena people he suspects to be witnesses. He has plenty of legal measures and political power to bring this house tumbling down.” Cash picks up where Luciano left off. “We have knowledge that can bring Effie down, and she has knowledge equally as damning. So we’ve come to a decision that will protect both our families and stop history from repeating itself.”
I glance across the table and Effie looks just as surprised by this “decision” as I am. In fact, the only ones who don’t look totally confused by what is going on are Cash and Luciano. I drum my fingers impatiently on the table, not caring about the side eye my brother shoots me.
My chest feels like a heavy weight is slowly settling onto it as we sit in prolonged silence, waiting for someone to catch us the fuck up. I can’t stop my gaze from traveling to her. Her long hair is brushed over her shoulders and down her back, a headband pulling it out of her face, leaving every inch of her flawless features visible. Even battered and bruised, she’s still fucking stunning, and I fight the roiling heat in my gut when our eyes lock.
Hers are heavy and sad, and it makes me want to punch something, namely myself, for sending that bastard to her doorstep. The thought that I could have gotten her killed makes my lungs feel like they’re collapsing.
“Spousal privilege,” Luciano states, “precludes spouses from being compelled to testify against the other.”
“I know what spousal privilege is, what does it have to do with me?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I realize the direction of this conversation, and it seems Effie does too.
“No, absolutely not!” Effie pushes her chair back and crosses her arms defiantly. “He’s the fucking reason we’re in this mess in the first place!” Her voice cracks, and red deepens the olive tone of her cheeks.
“Consequences of your own actions,” I volley back. “This,”I point at Luciano, “is the result of you breaking the truce.” I can’t bring myself to blame her, not when I sent that package. But her megalomaniac father? Yeah, I can blame him.
“You started this,youfix this, Luciano.” Cash tries to stop me from standing, but I bat his hand away. “You think you can plot against us, and then smooth things over with wedding bells? You’re fucking insane.”
“Finneas,”Cash hisses my name under his breath, and I reluctantly sit back down. He addresses the group again, taking an envelope from his pocket and unfurling the sheet inside. “It’s already done.”
“That’s not my signature, no way that will pass as authentic.”
“It will when you have friends in the right places.” Luciano fixes me with a smug, sleazy smile. “All that’s left is to consummate it. Better get to it, lovebirds.”
The drive to Bartlett Farms is silent. Not a word is spoken between us. It’s a painful contrast to the last time we drove out here together. She spends the entire drive staring at the passing landscape through the window, but unlike last time, she never turns to look at me with softness in her eyes and a faint smile on her lips.
After realizing that this marriage was happening with or without our consent—the right palms greased to pass the forged marriage certificate—Cash sent us off to Bartlett Farms to lay low for a while. The last residents passed a few years back, and the property doesn’t have any financial trail back to us.
Objectively, it’s a good plan. We can hide out without being too far from June Harbor in case shit hits the fan. And being legally married…well, it’s a smart move. Protects both our asses if we both stay silent, but it’s mutually assured destruction if one of us talks. I don’t like the idea of being so precariously tied to Luciano now, but I don’t completely hate the idea of Effie as my wife.
Though she certainly seems to.
All I can hope is that even though I failed to keep her safe, I can protect her now.
We pull into the farm’s drive and my low-riding sports car sounds like it’s being torn up driving over the gravel. I park in front of the old barn. It looks better than the last time Effie was here. The roof isn’t sinking inward, and the gaps in the wood siding have been patched up. It’s been a sort of project of mine, I guess.
“Do you remember this place?” I ask, while I remove our luggage from the small trunk.
“Of course,” she says, almost bitterly, and it stings.
