AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There are no good candidates to replace her right now, boss,” Jimmy replies, and I grunt in acknowledgment. “We can’t just kill her, or we won’t have a handle on the person who replaces her.”
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with that rat bitch,” I snarl nastily, my declaration bouncing off the walls and floor. Jimmy doesn’t bat an eyelash, but he does pout a little. My eyelid twitches in irritation, and I sit back to cover my eyes with my palm and sigh hotly. “But you’re right. She must know that, too, or why would she be doing this now? The smart move would be to lie low for a few more years and secure her connections that aren’t involved with us.”
“If she was that smart, why’d she need us to win her the election? Smart people don’t chase after goals they can’t accomplish themselves,” Jimmy replies nonchalantly. While I agree with him, it doesn’t ease the swirling maelstrom in my veins. Fran Shaw— a rat? Where’d she get the balls to defy me? “You know, maybe she just got lucky, and the FBI approached her, not the other way around? Otherwise, we would’ve caught on way earlier.”
“Everything she does, I’m supposed to know about and approve... but you’re right. That’s twice in one conversation,” I joke, trying to lessen my rampaging emotions. Jimmy chuckles, reaching to punch me in the arm lightly. For some reason, it helps jog my mind from the consuming, swirling rage I feel. “Well, if Shaw thinks she can deviate from my plans just because the FBI came to her... I’ll have to pay her a visit. Remind her there is always another idiot that would love to be mayor with none of the work.”
I take my phone from my breast pocket, it's almost time; Heather should be on her way to my mansion once she's finished at Home Depot. Briefly, the thrilling thought that she is ignoring me rings in my ears. I adore a woman with a little sass. If she doesn't come to me, I'll throw her plump ass over my shoulder and carry her home.
But I have a feeling that even if Heather shows up, she will not show herself. I'd be content if she simply parked outside for a while. It would demonstrate a willingness to comply with my demands while maintaining a sense of autonomy. In this game of tug of war, I have to be careful to let her have slack, or this’ll all be for nothing.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Heather
“Your destination is on the left.” My GPS calls out, and I crane my neck to look at the huge mansion. Pulling onto the curb, I put my car in park with a rough stick jerk. Grinding my molars to stop my jaw dropping, I hang over the steering wheel and groan.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” I whisper to myself, glancing up over my forearms at the long, winding drive and the huge house that sits atop it. The place has to be sitting on several acres, which is unheard of for most of Boston. “Jack’s gotta have some serious cash; family cash. He really is who he says he is.”
What am I even doing here? Jack demanded that I come by; how stupid am I to do so? Even if I don’t leave my car, I needed to see this place.
Licking my chapped lips, I grab my phone from the cupholder. My thumbs hover over the screen as I open my text chat with Jack, fear gnawing at my gut. As I close the text box, I search my contacts for Frankie's number, a cold sweat breaking out under my clothes.
Me:It’s Heather. We need to talk. Call me.
I need answers, dammit. My text to Frankie from this morning is seared into my eyelids, I can see the letters when I blink. I'm not even sure if this number is still active. As I press the call button, heat crawls up my neck. The phone rings and rings before going to voicemail. I scoff as frustration sears a path up my chest.
“It’d be stupid of me to expect anything of Frankie,” I turn my gaze back at the mansion standing proudly in the distance, and shake my head. Memories flash behind my eyes. “Jack had mentioned my father specifically. So... it probably has nothing to do with Frankie.”
My phone trills a singsong tune, and I look down as Carrie’s name flashes on the screen. Answering the call, I clear my throat roughly. “Hey! Thanks for calling me back. How was your meetings and stuff?”
“Same old, same old,” Carrie answers. I settle back into my seat, staring up at the floodlights illuminating the house. They twinkle, making it look less ominous than it really is. “What about you, huh? I tried to call you this morning, and you didn’t answer!”
“Oh, because I got some great news! I’m taking over Grace’s classroom for the rest of the year!” I say, my voice crackling with excitement. She squeals happily, and I smile. “I didn’t mean to ignore your calls, Carrie.”
“How’re you feeling about breaking up with Mike?” She gets straight to the point, and my mouth dries. I hadn’t thought much about Mike with Jack Murphy and my pseudo-promotion. What does that say about me? About our relationship, or lack thereof?
“I’ve been trying not to think about it, honestly,” I answer, and Carrie hums softly in acknowledgment. My breath hitches when I open my mouth; I can’t let Carrie know anything about Jack or what crap I’m now knees deep in. Gnawing on my inner cheek, I shake my head. “I— I guess I’m fine? Especially with taking over this classroom, it’s— it’s a great distraction.”
Carrie's end of the line is quiet before my phone rings with a video call. I hesitate to respond, but I press the green button anyway. Carrie is at home, a large stack of books and magazines piled up around her laptop screen to frame her intense expression. “Are you in your car?”
“Yeah, I— I’m on my way to pick up some food,” I lie, and she tilts her head back suspiciously. “Today’s a day to celebrate, so I ordered pizza.”
“You always get your pizza delivered because it’s easier to get uptown than downtown,” Carrie points out, and I wince. She frowns at me, the line crackling when she picks up her laptop to sit back on the sofa. “Spill it, Heather!”
“W— well, the truth is,” I trail off, trying to come up with a convincing lie. Sighing hotly, I prop my phone on the dash and adjust the camera to face me. “I’ve just been driving around. I don’t wanna go home. Liam’s been on a bender the last few days, and I heard him puking his guts out when I stopped at home. I just— I couldn’t be there.”
“You’re gonna let him run you out of your own house? Heather!” Carrie scolds, and I wince again. “Go kick him out! What’s stopping you, anyway? He’s a lazy, freeloading, loser asshole who’s taking advantage of you.”
“I know,” I groan, running my hand through my hair. “But how? It’d take months, and who knows what kind of damage he’d do during that time? And I have no one to replace him with. I won’t be able to make my bills without rent.”
“Oh, yeah, like he pays it anyway,” Carrie rolls her eyes, reaching beyond the scope of the camera to grab a glass of wine. “I’ll come up there and help you.”
“No!” I deny her quickly, panic swelling in my chest before immediately dying down again. Carrie pauses, arching a brow quizzically as she sips her wine. I shake my head. “No, just— I’ll figure something out. I appreciate the offer, though.”
“What, are you worried he’ll sue you or something? He’s too lazy and poor to do that,” she points out, and I shake my head even though I agree with her. “Is everything okay? Are you in some sort of trouble? Did he threaten you?”
“Um, no, I’m fine. Liam didn’t threaten me or anything,” I reply truthfully. Glancing up at the mansion, I gulp harshly. “I just know it’ll turn into a huge mess, and I want to avoid that. I have enough going on.”
