by Shanna Bell
Carmen jumped up. “I don’t want to talk about—”
Jazzy grabbed her hand and placed it on her baby bump. “But I do,” she snapped. “I was there, remember, the day you told me that you were pregnant. The day you were finally going to leave him. The day—” Her voice broke. “That damn day I came back to pick you up, only to find you bleeding on the kitchen floor. I thought you were dead, Carmen. But we survived that. That pig got what he deserved. Whatever it is that’s happening now, we will survive as well, together. Now, I let your moods slide for the last year, figuring you needed time to heal, but I’m drawing the line here.” She pressed Carmen’s hand closer on her bump.
Carmen did her best to prevent a waterfall of tears from sliding down her cheeks. “Jazzy, I—”
“Either you tell me what’s going on with you, or I’m going to do my own investigating. You know I have the means to do that.”
Carmen dropped back onto the couch. She couldn’t risk Jazzy running around town, making inquiries, drawing the attention of the wrong kind of people. For a second, she thought of telling Gio. No doubt, he would lock her up, as he’d done before, but she feared that would irreparably damage their relationship.
Haven’t you pulled away enough?
Doesn’t she deserve the truth?
“Okay,” she said softly. “Promise me you will stay out of it, and I will talk.”
“Starting with how the hell you ended up living with Vince and his hot friend.” Jazzy beamed, and relaxed into a plush cushion.
So, she started telling. How she and Vince had fallen in love in college. How, at seventeen, she had believed that one day, they would live the American dream: get married, have babies, and a white picket fence. Even in the sheltered world she’d lived in, she had held on to that hope. One day, Vince would rescue her from her tower, slay her dragons, and whisk her away to his castle where they would live happily ever after. Then, life had intervened.
She ended her story with Morelli and Keegan. Both men were still on the loose.
“I had no idea.” Jazzy looked flabbergasted. “I mean, when you passed out on my wedding day and Vince picked you up, I didn’t think much of it.”
“You couldn’t have known. We kept it a secret. If Grandfather had found out, he would’ve taken me from school. Back then, Franco’s family was much more powerful than Vince’s.”
Jazzy sighed. “And Grandfather always went where the power was.” She eyed her curiously. “I can’t believe neither of you ever showed any feelings during family dinners or holidays. I’ve been sitting on the sidelines of an epic love story and had no idea.”
“There was no epic love story.”
“Of course there was! So, what went wrong? I mean, according to every story in the book, you two should’ve eloped or something.”
Except, their story hadn’t been the all-consuming love story that survived the centuries. It wasn’t worthy of epic poems or fit for a Hollywood screen.
“He never showed up,” Carmen confessed. “When I overheard my grandfather telling Nonna that I was to marry Franco, I told Vince. We planned to elope the morning I turned eighteen. That was a week later. I waited for hours, but he never came. I didn’t see him again until your wedding.”
Jazzy took another bite from her cracker. “And now you’re living with him. And his friend, who, by the way, I once saw at Flux during girls’ night. Wow. You do know how to pick ’em.”
Except, they had picked her. She grabbed the envelope and took out the papers. The first thing that fell out of the envelope was Marni’s picture.
“I was actually going to ask for your help,” she confessed.
“About time,” Jazzy said, eying the picture. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Marni. I don’t know if she’s still alive, but I need you to help me find her.”
“You want to use my facial recognition software for kids.”
“Exactly.”
According to the report, Marni was the daughter of the president of a motorcycle club on the East Coast. She was also dead, as stated in a copy of her death certificate. There had been rumors she was abducted by a rivaling MC, which had resulted in a war between several MC factions. There was a picture of a woman with haunted eyes—Marni’s mother.
Now, more than ever, she was determined to find that little girl. To atone for her sins, and prove to her guys she was worth loving. Also, maybe then, she could stop hating herself.
***
On her way back home, Carmen was in a much better mood. She should’ve asked for help earlier. By shoveling bad memories into a dark closet, she hadn’t done anyone a favor. The chances of finding and saving Marni were not big, but it was better than doing nothing.
Maybe you should ask Vince and Sy for help as well.
Maybe they could help you locate those nasty pictures.
Vince parked the car and she got out, contemplating her next move.
“Fuck.” He scowled at a woman standing in the apartment’s doorway. The middle-aged women looked like an older, female version of Sy. Her clothes seemed worn and her hair unkempt. Clearly, she was going through a rough patch.
There was a gaunt look in her eyes as she eyed Vince. “I want to see my son.”
Vince shook his head. “No can do. Look, you need to leave. Now.” He took out his phone and started typing.
“Please.” A tear crept into the woman’s voice and Carmen couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. “It’s been years. I need to speak to him. I deserve to speak to my son.”
“Let’s not get into what you deserve,” Vince replied, his tone clipped.
“Vince.” Carmen couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “We should at least invite her in.” It seemed rude not to.
He shook his head. “When it comes to the Skarsgards, there’s certain things you need to know. Such as, never invite their mother into their home.”
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.” Surely, Sy wasn’t going to snap seeing his mother in his home, just because he had Mommy issues. “I’m not just going to let her stand on the street. Unless you tell me I can’t invite her in because I don’t have the right?”
He pulled her close and gave her a long, deep kiss. “You can invite in anyone you want, sweetheart. Just remember that this was your idea. And your funeral.” He winked, then got back into the car and drove away, leaving her alone with a woman close to tears.
“Coward,” she mumbled.
Sy’s mother seemed relieved to see Vince’s taillights disappear around the corner. With a new spring to her step, she walked up to her.
“I’m Erica Skarsgard, Sy’s mother.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Skarsgard,” Carmen said while taking out her keys. “Why don’t you come inside?”
Whatever it was that had mother and son estranged, surely it could be fixed. If she deserved a second chance, why wouldn’t Sy’s mother?
CHAPTER 21
CARMEN
Sy’s mom took in the living room, her eyes slightly narrowing as it went over every nook and cranny of the place. Judging by the way she was scratching her arm every few minutes, she was clearly nervous.
“My boy has such a nice home,” she said.
Carmen couldn’t help but notice the envy in Erica’s voice. It was obvious she hadn’t been in Sy’s house before. She was curious about what had driven a wedge the size of the Grand Canyon between mother and son. Most of all though, she wanted to help Sy restore his bond with his mom. She would give anything to see her mom one more time. Surely, their differences could be resolved.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked as they walked into the kitchen.
Erica took a place on the chair across her on the kitchen island. “I’ll have what you’re having.”
“Two cappuccinos coming up then.”
Erica pulled a face. “Don’t you have something stronger?”
“I think we still have some of Sy’s favorite poison in the fridge.” When she
got a blank look, she added,” Corona.” She opened a bottle and gave it to her.
“Figures,” Erica said. “Unlike his brother, that boy could hold his liquor without falling off the deep end.”
Since Carmen had seen a drunk Viking up close, she didn’t refute that remark. Still, the comment seemed a little harsh.
“So, how long has it been since you’ve seen Sy?”
“Over a year ago.” Erica took a long pull from her drink and scratched her arm again.
The woman obviously had the jitters. Carmen just wasn’t sure if it was because she felt cold or because of nerves.
“Do you want me to get you a sweater or—”
“No, I’m just nervous about seeing my little boy again.”
“I understand. Surely you two have a lot of catching up—”
Erica jumped up. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Sure. It’s just down the hall, on the right.” She’d barely finished her sentence, before Erica had slammed down her drink and headed off.
Carmen tried to ignore the woman’s odd behavior. Maybe Vince had been right, and she shouldn’t have gotten involved. But it was too late now. They had to deal with it.
She’d just taken the kettle off the stove when thunderous footsteps made her jump.
“Where is she?”
Sy was standing right behind her. Judging by his shorts and sweaty tank top, he’d just returned from a workout. To say he looked pissed off was an understatement. She’d never seen him like this before. Sy was the happy, carefree one, always in for a laugh. Unlike broody Vince, he appeared not to take life too seriously.
“Your mother just went into the bathroom. Take it easy on her. She’s very nervous and—”
“Mom!” he bellowed.
When he wanted to barge after the poor woman, Carmen grabbed his arm. Even his skin felt hotter than usual.
He turned his gaze on her and she stepped back, daunted by the burning fury in his blue orbs.
“Please, calm down. You’re going to scare her.”
He laughed without humor. “Me, scare her? You don’t know what you’re talking about. Why the hell did you let her in when Vince told you not to?”
“Because she’s your mother.” Seeing how upset he was, she grabbed his hand and leaned against his big frame. She let out a breath when he didn’t pull away from her.
“Just because she gave birth to me doesn’t make her a mother.”
The anguish in his voice tore at the seams of her soul. Whatever had happened to him, the scars ran deep. Much deeper than the ones he wore on his skin.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “It’s just that I lost my mom a long time ago and not a day goes by that I don’t miss her. Maybe I shouldn’t have presumed you would feel the same, but I figured that whatever happened between you two, she is still your mom. Family is everything.” If there was one truth in life she had always held on to, it was that credo.
“Well, I’m glad at least someone gets that,” Erica snapped.
She was standing near the fridge, keeping a distance from her son.
There was a hint of disdain in her voice that irked Carmen, but she kept that to herself. It was no use adding more fuel to an already explosive situation. She wasn’t sure how to react to the situation. Sy was no help either, standing next to her with balled fists. Waves of rage wafted off his body.
Erica seemed to be the only one not too distraught by the tension in the kitchen. She clutched her bag closer to her chest and made it around the kitchen island.
“Please, stay,” Carmen pleaded when Erica headed toward the corridor.
Erica curled her lip. “I can see that I’m still not welcome. Goodbye, son.”
Okay, that was just weird. She couldn’t believe his mother gave up that easily. Maybe she couldn’t stand the animosity that Sy radiated toward her. The tension in the room was so thick, it could be cut with a knife.
“Put it back,” Sy growled.
Holding her bag closer, Erica kept on walking. “I’m leaving.”
“I said, put it the fuck back!”
It took Carmen a second to catch on. “No…”
Erica’s cheeks turned red. “I need this,” she snapped, not even bothering to deny what she had done.
“Don’t give a fuck,” Sy said, his tone ice-cold. “Whatever you just stole, put it on the counter, and get the fuck out of our home.”
“I wouldn’t have to steal anything if my sons would help their mother out!” Her hand waved around the room. “You have all of this, but spend it on your whores.” The facade of the contrite mother had completely vanished.
Carmen ignored the jab and kept a hold of Sy. He stood rooted to the spot next to her, as if his feet had grown into the floor. She didn’t believe he was actually capable of hurting his mother, but she didn’t want to take any chances. He would never forgive himself.
In the meantime, Erica continued to slither toward the penthouse elevator. Any second now, she would be gone with the loot.
Carmen couldn’t care less about the stuff Erica might have stashed into her bag. She was more concerned with Sy. All emotion had left his face, which was an eerie sight to behold.
His eyes pinned his mother to her spot. “If you don’t put the fuck back what you stole, I will fucking break every bone of that bastard of a boyfriend of yours.”
“You wouldn’t.” There was fear in her voice.
“I fucking would. You know why? Because, unlike you, my brother actually taught me a thing or two about life. Like to never make an idle threat. So, yeah, I will cut up that junkie ass boyfriend of yours and I will fucking enjoy it.”
Erica started pulling out items from her bag, while cursing him. “You’d love to finish your brother’s work, wouldn’t you?” she spat. Several of Carmen’s gold rings and bracelets rained down onto the carpet, followed by a Rolex. “I curse the day you were born. You boys ruined my life! I gave up my youth for you, and what do I get in return?” After vomiting those loving words, she left, leaving a trail of destruction behind her.
No good deed ever goes unpunished.
Carmen could just kick herself. “I’m so sorry.” Sy was staring into the distance, as if there was something interesting on the skyline. When the silence stretched for another minute, she couldn’t take it any longer. “Vince warned me. I should have listened. Please say something. Or yell. It’s okay if you yell at me. I deserve it.”
And then some.
He pulled her close. She burrowed into him, needing his support as much as she wanted to give it to him.
“You couldn’t have known,” he said, his voice tight. “Good old Mom is a master manipulator. All junkies are. She’ll do and say anything to get her next score. And Frankie, well, he’s her enabler, just as the men she had before him. They’re like freaking cockroaches; kill one, and another one immediately takes his place. I pay her rent and utilities every month, so she doesn’t end up on the street. It’s no use giving her money. She’d only spend it on drugs and her loser boyfriends. Viking has cut all ties with her. He got arrested for nearly killing the man who… burned me.”
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, not knowing how else to respond. No words were enough to put out the fire in his words.
“If it hadn’t been for some judicial error, he would have been locked up for years. In the end, Mom didn’t cost him his freedom, but she did cost him Elena. She ruined them.”
He grabbed her chin and kissed her deep. The unspoken words hovered between them.
I don’t want her to do the same to us.
Then he let her go and went into the shower. All she could do was watch him leave.
***
It was close to midnight, and Carmen was still wide awake in her lonely bed. Sy hadn’t come to her. He always came to her bed during the night. Other times, they started making out on the couch while watching a documentary, and he’d drag her off to bed. If it weren’t him, then it would be Vince to instigate i
t. Never since they had become intimate had they left her alone all night. She found she missed their warmth. Vince hadn’t come home yet, and she had no idea where he was at this hour. He’d been gone a lot lately at night.
When the clock hit one o’clock, she heard the front door open. That must be Vince coming home. Footsteps stopped at her door for a second, then they went on. She heard him enter the shower and the water start running.
She got out of bed, put on her slippers, and went to Sy’s room. He was tossing and turning in bed. Beads of sweat covered his body that writhed as if in pain.
She couldn’t stand him going through a nightmare. She walked up to him and slowly rubbed his shoulder, in the hope of waking him up.
His body stilled. Sy’s eyes shot open, looking right through her. He grabbed her by her upper arms, squeezing them to the point of pain.
Carmen cried out. She tried to pull away, but that only seemed to enrage him. His eyes were like shards of ice that bore into her.
“Don’t ever fucking put your hands on me again,” he snarled.
“Sy, please, you’re hurting me.”
“Never again, brother, I promise. No one will ever fucking put their hands on me again.”
His grip on her got ever tighter, and for a second, Carmen feared he would break her bones.
Then he got out of bed, and tossed her away. Her back hit the wall, and she took down a lamp as she fell onto her knees. When she looked up, Sy had raised his fists as if he was ready to go a round with her. His body emanated a raw rage that would be unleashed on her any second.
So, she did the only thing she could—she screamed. She yelled for him to wake up, but his eyes were still… wrong. He was still in the grips of a nightmare and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of his encounter with his mother.