I wondered on a scale of one to ten how horrible it would make me as a human that I’d smile while killing him.
“Tex.”
“Frank killed Xavier.”
I sighed and leaned forward, my elbows on my knees. “So he’s no longer a threat?”
“He’s no longer a threat, nor are the ten associates that were working for him.”
I jerked back. “Because?”
“Because…” Tex sighed. “A hit was ordered on every last one and rather than share, Frank carried them all out himself, with the uncles, of course. Dirty bastards probably had the time of their lives.”
“Hmmm.” I licked my lips and leaned back in my chair. “So, I’m assuming there’s more.”
“There’s always more.” Tex tapped his temple. “He left his wife and two kids, and when I say wife, I say girl he was given by Petrov in order to keep his mouth shout, and two kids who lost their parents.”
“Petrov is dead.”
“Not his son.”
“Damn it, why is he alive?”
“Because up until last year he wasn’t a threat.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“Frank offered her protection.”
I exhaled a curse. “Of course he did, he’s turning into a damn saint in his old age.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what Xavier thought right before Frank broke his wrist, starved him, then slit his throat and cursed him to hell. Hey!” Tex paused. “This old man’s gone soft!”
“You’ve made your point.”
Tex stood. “He’s flying back with her later this week, just thought you should know since Frank’s got it in his head to bring another stranger into the fold.”
“Splendid,” I muttered. “Let me guess, I’m the new hotel?”
“Nah.” He laughed. “Actually Nixon gets dibs on this one, lucky bastard, I heard she screamed for one hour straight before Frank could finally calm her down and when he did, she bit him.”
“Hell. Good luck with that one.”
“She’s eighteen.”
“Shit.”
“Right.”
He was quiet. I didn’t mind. Tex did that a lot to me and, for the most part, I needed that quiet time to process whatever bomb he had the tendency to drop out of nowhere.
“Tex?”
“Shoot.”
“How do you know I’m going to ask you a question?”
“That’s what you do. You’re a numbers and questions guy, so ask.”
“Val mentioned a best friend she used to have, I didn’t really…” Shit. “I didn’t get her anything as a wedding gift, and I thought that locating her might be a good place to start.”
Tex froze. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “Or is stalking some random stranger and then buying them a plane ticket to your house frowned upon these days?”
Tex burst out laughing. “Look, I think it’s a solid plan, just…” He hesitated, like he was actually thinking before speaking, which was a rarity. This was Tex. Not Nixon. “Prepare yourself for bad news, people disappear all the time, you know? Without rhyme or reason, and although you have creepy as hell computer skills, you don’t even know her last name.”
“I didn’t say that,” I said slowly. “I never once said I didn’t have her last name.”
“Well, do you?” he countered, avoiding the question altogether. “Have her last name?”
“No.” I sighed. “But, I’m sure if I track Val’s bank account history along with her uncles, look through school records, it’ll be easy.”
Tex rose from his chair and slapped me on the back. “You’re probably right. Good hunting.”
“Thanks,” I muttered while he walked out, leaving the door wide open. Minutes later Val knocked.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“Sure.” Thank God she’d changed into sweats. All bets would have been off if she still had that bikini on. It had fit every luscious curve, every expanse of skin. Shit, there I went again, losing control.
“I was going to make dinner, anything you want?”
“Cookies?”
Laughing, she started to walk out. “Those are for dessert.”
“Or,” I added, “We eat them now and come up with our own dessert for later?”
“I think a pot roast,” she said, completely ignoring me as she headed out the door. “Sounds… mmm… juicy.”
“You’re killing me!” I yelled after her.
“Get used to it!” she called back.
Damn it. Round two went to Val.
THREE HOURS LATER, Val brought food into my office, I was hunched over my computer typing vigorously away and I still hadn’t located any info on her best friend. It was literally like she didn’t exist. But she’d have to be brilliant to wipe her own school records, unless someone did it for her.
“Hey.” Val plopped down in one of the chairs. “I already ate. I didn’t want to bother you, but here’s some food.” She pointed to the plate. “I have cookies for you when you’re done.”
I forced an exhausted smile. “Great, thanks.”
She frowned, then stood and walked over to me, leaning over my shoulder. Normally it pissed me off, people looking over my shoulder at my own shit. That was my domain, my world, but, for some weird reason, I wanted her to see it, the code, the hacking, the weird numbers and algorithms.
“Wow.” She sighed and pointed at the screen. “What does that even mean?”
“It’s a type of language. If you know it, you can use it to your advantage.” I typed in a few keys and hit enter. A picture of Val in high school appeared.
She burst out laughing. “Tell me you love the braces.”
“My very first thought. Next to the One Direction shirt of course.”
I received a pinch in the side.
“Show me another,” she whispered, her words kissing my neck with their nearness. I was powerless to say no, so I typed something else in and found another picture, this one from Facebook.
She was laughing hard, Dante was trying to steal her Kindle, and suddenly, my world did a little flip.
It was the exact picture from my folder.
Without thinking I grabbed the black folder from the other side of my desk and flipped it open.
It was the exact same picture.
“What!” Val hissed out a little yelp. “You have pictures of me.”
I nodded, unable to speak. “It’s the first one I saw of you.”
“But that…” She frowned. “That wasn’t recent at all. I mean it was taken easily over a year ago.”
Which was why, when I met her, I was shocked, nearly brought to my knees.
“I’m not sure.” Because usually the mafia was better than that. Hell, Luca was better than that.
He would have updated information, or asked someone to update my folder, right?
Or was it just laziness?
I frowned.
Torn between wanting to call Phoenix and dig some more on my own.
“Sergio?”
“Yeah?”
I hadn’t even realized Val had my folder until it was too late, with shaking hands she pulled out a picture of Luca and frowned. “I hate him.”
Tears streamed down her face as she ran out of the room and up the stairs.
Her father?
I understood. I really did, I hated it, but a part of me got it — understood her anger. So I sighed, and slowly followed her up the stairs just as her door slammed shut.
…grows, lives, and dies in blessedness. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Valentina
WITH SHAKING HANDS, I grabbed the last note and started to read.
I’m sorry.
It’s really all I can say.
I think if I explained myself, it wouldn’t make sense, not yet anyways. So, I leave you with this.
Ask him to show you.
Ask him to show you us.
But only after you show him a p
icture of you and me.
The picture fluttered into my lap.
I read the note again and again, then picked up the picture, just as Sergio burst into the room, making a beeline for my bed.
“Val.” His voice was cold. “Why are you in a picture with my dead wife?”
He was wrong.
Completely delirious with his anger and sadness, and it was finally breaking him, making him hallucinate. Irritated, I shoved him away. “It’s my friend, Ara.”
“No.” Sergio jerked the picture from my hands and stared. “That’s Andi.”
“No.” I shook my head, unable to believe what he was saying. “That’s my best friend. She’s—she’s fine, and she’s happy, and you’re just confused because you’re sad.” Tears streamed down my face. “Everyone has a doppelganger you know? Everyone! It’s not her!”
Sergio’s eyes closed briefly before he held out his hand. “There’s something you need to see.”
I wanted to climb under the blankets. I wanted to ignore him, ignore the pain in my chest at his expression, ignore the world, but his eyes had changed, transformed from this deeply rooted sadness to something worse.
Pity.
I grabbed his hand and followed him down to the guest room where he’d grabbed the swimsuits.
He opened the door wide.
And turned on the lights.
It wasn’t a huge room.
Still pretty in its own way, even though it was smaller than mine, less new. Then again, it could be the fact that the blinds were drawn, a choking sensation wrapped itself around my neck as I tried to inhale through the staleness of the room, with shaking hands I touched my neck in an effort to free up the air.
“This…”Sergio grabbed a framed picture, held it close to his chest, and closed his eyes briefly. “This is Andi.”
I reached for it, but he didn’t hand it over, instead he eyed me up and down with suspicion as if I knew some great secret.
“What?”
“You really have no idea, do you?”
“What are you talking about?” I think, deep down, I suspected, maybe I even knew, but I didn’t want to know, I wanted to turn on my heel and run out of the house, out into the field, I wanted to run, and I had no idea why, other than the look on his face told me my world, or the world I’d known up until then, was going to be shattered one last time, maybe for good.
He sighed and bowed his head, then handed over the frame.
The minute my hands locked on it, it was like a physical shift in my body as I turned it over and stared.
My friend Ara… was Andi.
The same smile, lips, posture, eyes.
Shaking, I nearly dropped the picture until Sergio held my hands, gripping them in his.
I should be confused, scared, angry, so many things, instead, all I felt, was such a horrific sadness that I collapsed to my knees and sobbed.
Because it was she who had helped me.
She who had, at one point, made me feel alive.
She had who rescued me when nobody knew I needed saving.
It was his dead wife.
Who had brought me into the land of the living.
And I couldn’t even thank her.
I couldn’t say thank you.
And worst of all — I hadn’t even known she was gone — until it was too late.
“No.” I pressed my hands against the carpeted floor and tried to breathe through my tears. “No, it’s not true. You’re lying! It’s a trick!” I didn’t recognize my own voice as I screamed at him.
“Breathe.” Sergio ran his hand down my spine and whispered urgently, “Breathe in and out.”
“I am!” I choked out a breath. “Breathing! Leave me alone!” I tried to swat his hand away but all of my strength was zapped the minute I locked eyes with her.
It had to be her.
It had to be her.
“Why?” I finally croaked out once I was able to form the words. “Why would she do that to me? Befriend me then leave?” And die. I didn’t say the last part, maybe I didn’t need to. It was a selfish thought, but I was feeling selfish, and more than abandoned, tricked even.
Had our friendship been real at all?
Or had she used me?
With a sigh, Sergio joined me on the floor. A sliver of sunlight peaked through the curtain drawing a line on the carpet between our bodies.
“I wish I had answers. I don’t.” He sighed. “I had no idea, Val, believe me. If I had…”
“What?” I gasped. “What would you have done? Anything different?” Please say no. It was hard enough being rejected by him, but being married to the man my best friend had loved with her whole heart, knowing he had felt the same way about her.
It was impossible not to feel angry and hurt, but what was even worse, was I could see it, how easily she fell even if it wasn’t on purpose, and how much she must have loved him.
“What were you holding earlier?” Sergio asked. “In your bedroom?”
I stared down at my hands. “Letters.”
“Letters,” he repeated. “From Andi? Or Ara?” he corrected.
“No.” I frowned. “I have no idea who sent them, I was given a key to a security box at the bank and—”
“And you’re just telling me this now?” His voice rose an octave as he scooted closer to me. “Seriously! It could have been a trap! You could have gotten hurt. Need I remind you that there’s a pissed off Russian who wants to kill you?”
I shivered at the thought. “It was before I met you.”
“And that makes it better?”
“Stop!” I shoved at his chest. “I was lonely, okay?” Tears streamed down my face. “My best friend had all but abandoned me, Dante was distancing himself, and I was bored! I had nobody to talk to, and then suddenly I get this letter, assuming it’s from Ara, FINALLY, you know? Because she just stopped writing and I tore it open without thinking, and then, I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I don’t know what happened, suddenly I was in front of the bank and—” I frowned.
“And what?”
“And Mil was there…. and this other tall guy, who was really good looking and—” I vaguely remembered the guy with the easy smile. I blinked at Sergio and then let out a little gasp. “He looked… like you.”
Sergio tensed next to me. “A really good looking guy with Mil who wasn’t Chase and looks like me?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” I pressed my fingertips to my temples. “But he was lankier.”
“Oh, that’s helpful.” He bit back a curse and shook his head.
“I’m sorry!” I snapped. “I didn’t know I was going to be getting profiled later!”
“Shit,” Sergio whispered out the curse. “I’m sorry, it just, none of this makes sense, and if I’m right, which I typically always am, that means my brother Ax has been in on this since the beginning.”
“Y-your brother?”
He clenched his jaw and then asked, “May I see the letters?”
“You’ve already seen one, on our wedding day, it came with the dress.”
The silence was tense.
“If you show me that one, I’ll show you mine.”
“No.” He didn’t even pause or hesitate.
So much for trusting each other.
Another curse escaped between his full lips before he pulled out his phone and pressed a button then barked out, “Mil, tell me what the hell is going on now, or I’m going to point a gun at your husband’s temple and pull the trigger.”
I didn’t hear what she said on the other end.
“Phoenix? What do you mean Phoenix?” Sergio’s eyes widened. “Frank too? Fine, send him over now.”
He tossed the phone onto the carpet and groaned.
“Good news?” I sighed, tugging at the carpet fibers.
“She said to ask Phoenix since it was he and Frank who were given the instructions.”
“Instructions?” I shook my head. “For what?”
Sergio hung his head. “Ou
r love story.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Exactly.” He rose and held out his hand. “Phoenix was with Chase anyways, so Mil relayed the message, they’re on their way.”
“They?”
“Everyone.”
I suddenly wanted to crawl into the bed and hide, but not my bed, not even Segio’s, hers.
My best friend’s.
Because I knew if she were here, she could explain the method to her madness, and she’d also laugh with me and tell me everything was going to be okay.
And maybe, after she did that, I could apologize.
For falling in love with the same man.
Only I wasn’t sorry.
I would never be sorry.
And that made me the worst sort of best friend, the worst sort of person, because every time I thought about her touching him, a pang of jealousy shot through my chest. Cancer or not, if she were here, I’d still fight for him.
And I hated myself for it.
If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Sergio
IT WAS RAINING again.
I was angry again.
I was frustrated.
I was irritated.
And as much as I wanted to comfort Val, I was livid that she’d kept such a secret from me — for so long. How could I trust her in the future?
The division between us grew along with the silence as the gang slowly started to arrive.
They knew something.
And it pissed me off that they’d kept it from me right along with Val, then again, she was as much a victim as I was. What the HELL had Andi been thinking?
Maybe she’d been delirious, and Frank hadn’t the heart to tell her no, maybe Phoenix was desperate, maybe they were all worried I would jump off a cliff the minute she passed.
They’d had good reason to be worried.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it.
Phoenix was the last to arrive, and when he did, he slammed the door behind him with such force; the aftershock pierced the tension in the house with a knife, causing an explosion of emotion to boil in my chest. I surged to my feet and started to charge him, only to be intercepted by both Tex and Nixon.
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