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“You’re not staying. You can’t handle this.” I say, but Robert squeezes my shoulder firmly.
“I’m staying. You’ve taken the load for me,” Robert’s voice deepens with emotions. “I’ll stand by you when you need me just as you’ve done time and again for me. It’s a small price to pay.”
“Puking your guts out and having nightmares isn’t a small price for you, Beanpole,” Robert chuckles weakly, and I look back as he rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “Go upstairs, Robert. Send Jimmy down here. You’re smart. Get Markee and make sure everything’s cleaned up. I wantnoevidence of what happened. If it’s true that Long was working with Frankie, he could’ve been there. Find him and confirm his whereabouts. Do whatyoudo best, and I’ll do whatIdo best.”
“Be careful, Jack.” Robert’s parting words ring in my ears, and I nod. Careful. Oh, yeah, I’m gonna be very careful... while I skin this motherfucker alive.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Heather
Four weeks later
“You sure you wanna do this, Heather?” I look over at Carrie and nod firmly, and she frowns under tightly knit brows. “You don’t have to come back. You know you can stay with me forever. Especially after being mugged! How can you go back to Boston?”
“It’s a little late for that, considering we’re already here,” I wave around the station, and Carrie chuckles humorlessly. “It’s been a month, Carrie. I had to come back eventually. My home’s here. I can’t be afraid anymore.”
“I still can’t believe they haven’t found the guy yet. Boston police suck. How hard is it to find a fucking mugger?” Carrie gripes as she drags my suitcase along behind us. I hobble, one hand on my cane and the other clutching my side. “I guess you must die for them to give a shit. Oh, it makes me so mad!”
“My kidney died,” I try to joke, and Carrie grimaces when we reach the stairs. “Too bad that doesn’t count. But my point still stands. I can’t just leave. I can’t leave my job, or my house, or—”
“Or that hot guy that’s been calling you every day for a month?” Carrie smiles saucily, and I purse my lips thinly in consternation. Struggling up the steps, I look over at her as her eyes twinkle. “I heard some of those cute messages he leaves you every night. You said he’s in London or something for conferences, right? And he still managed to call you at exactly eight every night.”
“Jack’s not cute,” I grumble, uncomfortable as Carrie reminds me of my lie. Shit, I do that so much, and yet she’s let me stay with her, bought me food, and comforted me. I’m a crap friend. I’m such a crap friend. “I don’t know what to do. Just being mugged... it made me think of everything, and I didn’t wanna do it around Jack, so the fact that he called me every single day is annoying.”
“Your life was on the up, so at least you only got shot and didn’t have a financial crisis,” Carrie jokes, laughing heartily, and I giggle. Even now, it’s an ache, and I palm my side tenderly. We emerge from the train station, and I pause in surprise when I see a familiar face waiting for me on the curb. Jack straightens, holding up a hand with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Oh, is that him? He’s so hot!”
“Yeah, I’m—I’ll meet you at home?” I offer, and Carrie nods giddily. “I don’t know how long this’ll take.”
“Just don’t break up with him without hearing him out first,” Carrie replies, and my stomach churns with dread. She wanders off to hail a taxi, and Jack starts towards me slowly. He’s different from the last time I saw him. His face is a little gaunter, a little more haggard and drawn.
“You’re back,” Jack says, and I cross my arms over my chest protectively. Rubbing his jaw and neck, he clears his throat roughly. Awkwardness spreads between us that wasn’t there before. “I wasn’t sure you would. I wouldn’t blame you for staying in New York. You’d have Carrie and your mother.”
“I couldn’t stop looking over my shoulder, afraid that Frankie’s gang would come after me,” I admit, my throat closing in emotion at the rawness in Jack’s eyes. The guilt. So blatant. “W—what about you? How’re you doing now that you got revenge for your sister?”
“I realized it didn’t mean anything when I found out you’d stolen my car and left,” Jack replies, and I look away in shame. Maybe, in hindsight, it was a bad idea, but at the time... I couldn’t look at him. “It put—put a lot of things in perspective for me... going up there, and you were gone, and I had no way to know where you went.”
“Because you tracked my phone, everything I did, said, even when I wasn’t using it,” Jack has the decency to wince at my words like I’d slapped him. My heart aches. “Why didn’t you just tell me what it was all really about, Jack? Things—things would’ve been different if you’d been honest with me. Frankie murdered your sister. I would understand that.”
“I’ve never cared about lying to someone before,” He admits shamefully. “Will you come with me? I’ll drive you home. No lying. Not anymore.”
“I’d like that, yeah,” Lifting my cane, I take a step before Jack’s gaze slides down and widens in surprise. Licking my lips heavily, I hold up the cane and frown. “It’s been a long time since the last time we were here, huh?”
“Feels like it,” Jack grabs my suitcase, gingerly wrapping his other arm around my back, and I don’t stop him. I hobble towards his car, and he opens the door for me before helping me into the back seat. “Easy now.”
I groan softly as I slide into the seat. Everything looks so different now, even this car. Memories flood my mind’s eye, and I pull up my sweater to stare at the long incision just under my ribs. Jack blocks the light, and I glance up as he grimaces at the sight of my injury. Sliding in next to me, he reaches to turn on the overhead light to pull up my sweater higher.
“You’re doing okay? Charles said you lost a kidney and your gallbladder,” Jack whispers, his voice hoarse and quiet. So quiet. I nod mutely as he caresses the scar with his fingertips. I can barely feel it, but his touch is acute, making my skin prickle. “How was New York?”
“I remember,” I murmur, and bright, green eyes meet mine—eyes I’d have dreams about. Eyes that kept me awake at night. The car rumbles along underneath me, making my legs hurt. “I had to keep him talking. I had to keep it going. And Frankie always used to argue about everything. When my dad was alive, they used to get into it—screaming. Screaming so loud, for hours and hours.”
“I was trying to get the gun in my jacket pocket, and I was buying time,” Even now, I can hear the atrocious words that spilled out of my mouth. Jack’s quiet, grave as I take a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t scared of Frankie, though. All I could think of was why—why were the men in my life like this? Why doesn’t anyone lie for my benefit? I’m so sick and tired of it. So, when I woke up... I left because I needed to know if it was true.”
“If what was true?” Jack asks, his voice trembling, and I gulp down the dense lump in my throat. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back and sigh.
“For better or worse,” I mumble, my tongue sitting uncomfortably in my mouth. “Is it true? Is there a future? Or am I just fooling myself? Lying to myself, like everyone else does. Being used and abused... but the lying. The lying—everyone lies to me, and if everyone’s doing it, that means there is something wrong with me, doesn’t it? Frankie asked me, ‘why do you endure this pain?’ I’m not sure what the answer is, Jack. What’s the truth? Our fight—do I love you, or am I just falling into the same bad habit and settling because it’s safer to confront the horror I know?”
“I can’t do this anymore, Jack,” I croak as my emotions batter the right side of my body. Clutching my side, I tilt my head to look at him through my watering eyes. “I can’t. You—you can’t do this to me anymore. You did all this to me, and it’s all based on lies and deceit, and I can’t go through it all again.”
