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“What does that have to do with Lily?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. Both Zeke and I stand behind him as he searches for whatever answers he’s looking for. He clicks on an old newspaper article and brings up a picture of eighteen-year-old Liliana Constantine. Her hair is straight and only shoulder-length, plus she has braces on her teeth. She’s certainly filled out over the years, but there’s no mistaking our girl. Jesus fuck, shorty.
“You think he faked his daughter’s death?” Taking a closer look at the screen, I scan the article for any clues as to why she kept this from us.
West sits back and runs his hands through his hair. “Knowing that twisted fuck, I’d bet she faked her own.”
“So Nico Constantine is her twin?” Zeke asks.
I stare at a second picture of her and her brother. She has a fucking twin, and she never mentioned him to us. She must really hate him. Or she adores him and is trying to protect him. I can’t imagine our girl hating anyone, not even us, despite how much we deserve it. “It would make sense that she lied to protect him.”
“This is so fucked up.” Zeke paces the length of West’s office. “She’s a fucking Constantine. I should have done my due diligence. I should have dug deeper, but everything she first told us checked out. Everything! She was some broke girl from Brooklyn, not a Mafia princess and an heiress to the biggest goddamn hotel chain in America.”
I shake my head. “Lily’s not an heiress though, is she? Liliana Constantine is, and she’s fucking dead.” If only our girl were here, we could get some answers. “You think she had any idea about what her father did to us all those years ago?”
West leans back in his chair and sighs. “I have no fucking clue what to think anymore.”
ChapterForty-Six
LILY
Betty creaks loudly as I stop at the light, and I can’t say I blame her. How quickly did I discard her when something newer and shinier came along? I now know firsthand how much that stings. I’ve decided that’s the most reasonable explanation for what happened with the Unholy Trinity. I’m still breathing, so they can’t know who I really am.
“I’m sorry, girl.” I pat her handlebars and sniff back tears. “You know I love you.”
A black SUV comes to a stop beside me, the back window rolled down. “Lily.”
My heart jolts like I’ve just been hit with a defibrillator. I stare straight ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence.
“Lily,” West says again. “Can you please get in the car?”
To my relief, the traffic light changes and I pedal forward, but my damn knees shake, making it more difficult than it should be.
“Please, shorty?”
I ignore Xander too, but the car continues driving alongside me. Tears swim in my eyes, blurring my vision and making me wobble.
“For the love of god, can you get in the damn car so we can talk to you?” Zeke shouts.
I pull on my brakes and come to a halt, causing the cyclist a few feet behind me to curse as they swerve around me. Their car stops too, and horns blare in protest. Turning, I glare at them and fervently wish for them to burst into flames. “Fuck you.” I flip them the bird too, just to make sure they get the message.
The car door is thrown open, and Zeke jumps out. Shit-eating bastard. He reaches for Betty’s handlebars, but before he can touch me or my bike, I punch him in the jaw. He staggers back, his lip split open and bleeding. Whoops, didn’t intend to do that. I mean he deserved it, but still.
His eyes narrow, and I push aside my guilt and give him a triumphant smile. “Crawl back to your limo and leave me the hell alone.”
He wipes the blood from his lip with his thumb and his tongue darts out to lick away the rest. An unwelcome memory of his mouth doing unspeakable things to me makes me sway, but I think I manage to steady myself before he notices. I expect him to start raging at me, but his shoulders droop. “Lily. I know we don’t deserve a second of your time, but please, get in the car and let us explain.”
I swallow down the tears that threaten to burst out of me. Three days have passed, and the pain of what they did hasn’t lessened at all. I deserve answers, and I don’t care if they think they’ve won if I get into this car. I need to close the door on this part of my life, and I can’t do that until I face the three of them. I hop off my bike and thrust her into Zeke’s hands. “Fine. You can give me a ride home.”
They look both intimidating and kind of awkward all squished together on the bench seat when there’s so much room in this car, but Xander moved from his spot when I climbed in, allowing space for Betty and me. And if one of them tried to sit near me now, I’d scratch his eyes out.
I clasp my hands together so they don’t see them shaking. My legs tremble too, but I plant my feet on the car floor. It’s little comfort that they all appear as nervous as I am. “So?”
West speaks first. “We’re sorry.”
I rear back like I’ve been slapped in the face. “Sorry? Fucking sorry. Oh, that makes everything okay then, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not done,” West says through gritted teeth.
