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Clare
One month later….
I roll up my sleeping mat and stuff it inside my pack. I stretch and cringe when my back cracks loudly. Sleeping on the ground in the woods of Central Park isn’t the best but it will have to do until I can reach Luka. He doesn’t owe me a freaking thing but he is all I have left. I grab my belongings and shove them inside my bag before shoving my arms through the straps. It’s heavy and weighs me down but everything I own is in this bag. I crouch down and carefully grab the urn, then wrap my arms around it and hold it close to my chest. Nearly six months ago I came out here to get Luka’s help. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain why I was here before he had one of his guys driving me back to the airport and dumping me on the next flight back home.
I’m mad as hell at him but I don’t have anywhere else to go, he’s all I have left. Today is the day I go back and make him listen because this time, he can’t send me back to Oklahoma.
I don’t have a home anymore.
I make my way through Central Park and keep my head down. People in New York don’t take kindly to homeless people. The guys think because I’m homeless I’ll allow them to make themselves at home inside me for a quick buck! They can fuck right off with that mentality.
I don’t have enough money for a cab and my stomach is protesting by growling about not having any food inside it for a couple days. I keep my head down and try not to groan or drool as I walk past a hot dog cart. My stomach begins to cramp, so I hold the urn tighter and push on. I won’t reach Luka until nightfall at this rate. It’s cold, you can smell snow in the air, so I really don’t want to be sleeping in the park when the first snowflakes begin to fall.
* * *
By the timeI make it onto the street where the Murdoch’s residence is, it was like it got colder, almost like the universe is telling me this isn’t a good place. I know it isn’t, I’ve been here before. Not inside the house but outside it, where I met Rook. He wasn’t jaded or hateful back then. I was just a kid, fifteen years old and nothing but stars in my eyes thinking the world is a good place. How wrong I was. Halfway down the street I pause, there never used to be a gate here. With my hands free and the urn safely in my pack, I grip the bars and try to squint my eyes to get a better view of the houses. This place has changed so much over the past four years.
Now there are more houses either side of the street with the main one still the furthest back. It looks daunting from way back here. Rook told me that house wasn’t a home, it was a prison. I didn’t understand what that meant. I came from a loving home. My step mom was amazing. My mom died during childbirth so I never got a chance to get to know her. I never felt like I was missing out though, Lillie never made me feel like I wasn’t her own. My dad, he was my best friend, I could tell him anything and he would never get mad. He never raised his voice or spanked me, even when I told him I was pregnant at fifteen.
“Step away from the gate!” I yelp and jump back scared shitless at the sudden appearance of a man dressed like a security guard. He narrows his eyes. “Go beg for scraps somewhere else, kid.” I scowl at the beefed-up juice head, whose shirt looks two sizes too small for him.
“I’m not a beggar, you nitwit!” Beefy grits his teeth, clearly pissed now.
“Get the hell out of here now!” he roars. I clench my hands into fists so he doesn’t see them shaking. I know Luka works for the mafia and I should have thicker skin, but I was never exposed to this type of stuff. I lived a really sheltered life.
“No. I need to speak to Luka.” His brow furrows, clearly taken back by my request.
“Why would he want to see poor pussy like you?” I cringe and fight the retort that wants to break free as he rudely spoke to me.
“One, eww. Two, because I’m his little sister.” Beefy’s eyes widen a fraction before he schools his features.
“Where’s your proof?” My jaw unhinges, he cannot be serious.
“How the hell am I going to prove that?”
“Call him.” I cringe, it’s a simple request but one I can’t do.
“I don’t have a phone,” I mutter under my breath embarrassed, he scoffs.
“Nice try, kid. Get the hell out of here.” Desperation crawls through me. I lurch forward and grip the bars looking at him hoping he can see the truth in my eyes.
“I swear, Luka Salinski is my brother.”
“And I’m the fucking Pope. Fuck off now before I make you.” He turns to leave and all hope flees me until I hear his voice.
“You gonna lay hands on a little girl, Chris?” I stand up straighter and search for him in the darkness but I can’t see him.
“Whose there?” Beefy calls out, his hand goes to his hip to grip his… gun. Oh my God. He has a freaking gun!
“You pull that gun and I will be the least of your worries.” He steps out from the shadows of the trees that line either side of this fence line, my breath hitches. He looks like a dark angel standing there in dark jeans and a black sweater with the hood pulled over his head. I can’t see his face and it bugs me.
“Shit, sorry, Rook. I had no idea you were out here. Did you need something?” Rook turns his head toward me. I may not be able to see his eyes but I can feel them when my body begins to burn with awareness. I can feel him looking me over and it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Let her in,” he says while keeping his dark gaze on me. The guy pushes some buttons on a hidden keypad, then the gates begin to open. I try to move but a feeling of uncertainty thrums through me. I don’t know how I know this, but if I step through those gates I feel like my life will change forever.
What other option do you have?the little voice in my head says. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders and take the first steps into what I am sure is going to be my new life. Rook doesn’t wait for me, just turns and heads toward Murdoch Manor as I call it. Neither of us say a word on the walk, with him staying at least five steps in front of me. I try to get a look at each of the houses but it’s pretty hard when it’s dark out and there are no street lamps. There are three large houses either side of the street with the seventh being the Manor. Who the hell lives this close to them? I’m too lost in my own thoughts to notice Rook has stopped moving and crash into his back with a grunt escaping me. I stumble backward as he turns to face me. A gentleman would reach out and help steady me on my feet but not Rook. He stares at me like I’m the bane of his existence.
“Thanks for the assist,” I grumble. He doesn’t comment for a long while, just stares at me in the most unnerving way which causes me to fidget. The intensity of his stare has my body heating with awareness. I hate that even when he looks at me like I am nothing he can draw this type of reaction from me. “Where’s Luka?” I finally ask, breaking the tension-filled silence.
