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“Why do you think he might come looking for her?” he asked Vick again.
Vick took a slow, reflective sip of the coffee I had made him. His mug had a cat eating a piece of pizza on it and it seemed utterly incongruous with what he was saying.
“I consider Torin Reilly to be a rehabilitative failure,” Vick said. “I voted against his release, personally.”
Once again, Vick’s eyes slid over to me. I said nothing, forcing myself to breathe normally.
I didn’t talk about my brother to people.
“Why?” asked Drew.
“He wasn’t overly violent in prison,” Vick said. “For a murderer. Of course it helps when you’re almost 6 and a half feet tall. But when he did commit violence, he was cold and ruthless. He killed at least one man in prison. And got away with it, too. Asshole.”
“What happened?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
“Stabbed him with a homemade shiv,” Vick said. “At the breakfast table. In front of dozens of other prisoners. But not one of them would testify against him. What kind of psycho fucker has got a bunch of maximum-security prisoners that afraid?”
“What does that have to do with Laoise?” put in Drew. “Torin stabbed their father. I think we’ve established that he’s a psycho.”
“It was his reason for doing it,” Vick said. “He had exchanged words earlier with the other prisoner. From the best we can tell, the guy said something about his sister.”
I felt my heart pounding so hard in my chest that there was a ringing in my ears.
Drew was looking at me, his kind hands warm and comforting on mine.
“Are you telling me her brother might have killed a fellow prisoner just because he insulted Laoise?” Drew asked.
“Yes,” said Vick. “That’s one reason we wanted to warn you that he may try to contact your fiancée after he’s released. We don’t know anyone else he might want to contact.”
“Can’t you deny his parole?” Drew asked. “Can someone file a last-minute appeal?”
“It’s already been voted on,” said Vick. “I lost. There’s been a push to let the guys who committed murders at 16 and 17 out. And your brother was just shy of his 18th birthday. There’s nothing I can do about it now but warn you.”
I looked down at my hands, running the peacock blue ring around and around my finger.
I had worked so hard to put all the shit from my childhood behind me. From a dirt-poor kid living in a leaky trailer, with an absent mother and murdered father, I had still managed to go to college and start my own cupcake business. I met Drew through a book club a few years ago and moved into his big spacious home in a nice part of town last year after we had gotten engaged. He asked me to marry him on a trip to Hawaii and we had a wedding planned for next spring. I was working hard to get my bakery off the ground.
“Do you think there’s any possibility for rehabilitation?” Drew asked, in his calm, quiet way.
Vick slid another sideways glance at me, and said bluntly, “No.”
Drew blinked. “You answered very quickly. How come?”
“I think Torin Reilly is violent, unpredictable, and unstable,” said Vick. “I consider him to be extremely dangerous. That’s why I wanted to come and warn Miss Reilly here to be cautious.”
“I’m not afraid of my brother,” I said, and my hands on the table were surprisingly still. Almost like I wasn’t quaking inside.
“Take my advice in place of the father Torin took from you,” Vick said. “Try to avoid contact with your brother. If you insist on meeting him, do it in a public location.”
I saw Drew nodding vigorously beside me. “Of course,” he said. “But he may not even try to contact her.”
I didn’t say anything.
Torin Reilly had killed our father and paid 10 years for it.
And now he would be out to collect what he had left behind.
Me.
