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“What did the guy look like?” I ask.
“Terrifying,” he replies with a shudder. “Huge. Greasy. He had really dark hair and it was slicked back with like oil or something. He had a beard. I honestly don’t remember that much. He told me to get out and I did. I swear, I was just happy not to have been shot at. This,” he looks around the car and then his voice drops to a whisper, “is not my world.”
I lean back against my seat and stare at him. I can’t get a good read on him and that worries me.
“You want to come for dinner?” I ask.
His eyes widen and he looks between me and my two bodyguards.
“They’ll behave. I promise.” I wink at him.
“Are you…?” he asks again.
“Look, kid, she told you Jessica Ivanov was dead,” Mikey barks.
I put my hand on Mikey’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I got this.”
Hayden stares at me, his face pale and his eyes wide with terror. This really isn’t his world. That much I believe. “I’m Jessie Ryan,” I tell him. “Jessica Ivanov is dead. She died along with her parents and her brothers and we won’t speak of her again, okay?”
“Okay,” he says but he blinks in confusion.
“But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a half-sister.”
Hayden keeps blinking at me.
“He’s not getting this, Jessie,” Conor snaps.
“He is,” I say with a reassuring smile. “It’s just taking a while, right?”
Hayden swallows. “Right.”
“You want to come for dinner at our place then?” I ask again.
“Yeah,” he says with a nod of his head.
“Good,” I smile at him and I squeeze Mikey’s shoulder. “Mikey here is a great cook.”
“I make a great chili, kid. You like chili?”
“Love it,” Hayden says.
“You’d better call Shane and let him know we’re bringing a guest home,” Conor says to his brother.
“Good idea.” Mikey takes his cell from his pocket. “He can make sure Liam is all calmed down by the time he gets home. We don’t want him getting all stabby.”
“Stabby?” Hayden almost chokes on the word.
“He’s joking,” I lie.
Hayden stands at the large window in our kitchen with a bottle of Bud in his hand. I walk to stand beside him. Mikey is cooking in the background and Conor sits at the kitchen table watching me and Hayden so intently that I feel his eyes burning into me. Hayden has been here for two hours now and both Mikey and Conor have been perfect hosts. They haven’t let either of us out of their sight, but they also gave us a little space to talk privately. Not so private that they wouldn’t have heard every single thing that we said, but they have kept their distance and I know how hard it must be for them not to interrogate him because I know they want to.
I have asked questions mostly and Hayden has seemed happy to talk. I know he’s only ever lived in New Jersey but he wants to move to New York. He’s smart with numbers and was going to major in business before he had to drop out of college to help look after his mom. She was sick for three years before she died. He has no other family. He doesn’t have a girlfriend or a boyfriend, and he has worked waiting tables since he was eighteen.
I like him.
“This is some view,” Hayden says with a low whistle.
“It sure is,” I agree as we look out over the city skyline. “You should see it from the roof terrace.”
