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Tock.
I kicked at the dumpster again, needing the pain to lap its way up my body and chase away the rage. The back door swung open, and a security guard peeked his head out.
He took in my glare for a second before bowing his head, apologizing, and shutting the door to Uncle Frankie’s club.
When my phone rang, I answered without looking and barked out, “The fuck do you want?”
“D-dad?”
Shit.
“Everett. I thought—”
Nothing. No excuse.
Just… fuck.
“Sorry, kiddo.” I leaned the back of my head against the brick wall, harder than necessary, but I deserved the pain. “How are you?”
In seven years, I’d never yelled at him. Never cursed at him. Never spoke to him in any way less than he deserved.
All that love, all that tenderness, all that devotion up in flames. If I were anyone else, my fist would be in my face, and I’d wake up with a black eye.
Everett’s breathing grew ragged over the line. “Mom’s acting weird.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Can I come home yet?”
I ran a hand down my face and bit back a swear.
I wanted everyone home twenty-four-fucking-seven. Him. Vince. Tessie.
This—always searching or waiting for the people I loved to be near me—chipped at my sanity, scattering a trail of my soul across the city with each step I took.
“I’ll find a way, Everett,” I promised, hoping I could keep it.
You can’t, the distorted Vince in my head taunted. I needed sleep. Time’s running out.
Tick.
Tock.
Too late.
ARIANA DE LUCA
I’d never let myself grieve my mom.
I’d always felt that, if I took the time to hurt, I’d never stop. It made no sense. I’d never met the woman.
I didn’t know what I was missing out on, so how could I miss her?
The first tear slipped past my lashes as I stared at Bastian’s bed. I’d tucked Tessie into bed in her room a few minutes ago, and I was supposed to be finding a place to sleep in this stupid two-bedroom penthouse with a million useless rooms but no guest room.
Leave it to Bastian to not want guests.
The second tear volleyed past the first as I kicked my duffel bag to the side of his bed, something like grief clogging my throat as I told myself it made no sense to grieve someone I’d never met.
