by Cassie Wild
He was a good-looking man. The lines of his jaw and chin were familiar, but I didn’t know if it was because he reminded me of Gabriel…or myself. His hair was almost to his shoulders, straight and black and shiny.
I’d always wanted straight hair.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, voice nearly a whisper.
“It was in my father’s house,” I told him.
His eyes lifted slowly to mine, and I had the weirdest feeling he was seeing me all over again. His eyes roamed over my face, moved to my hair then back, staring at me as though he was trying to see clear through me. “Your father,” he said quietly.
“Yes. Gabriel Marks. Why was this picture in my father’s house?” I demanded.
Nicco Alexander closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wide shoulders rose and fell on that heavy breath, then he looked back at me. “My father’s name is also Gabriel Marks. And this picture…” He flipped it around and tapped the image of the small boy. “It’s my mother…and me.”
Three
Suria
Catherine Alexander was still a beautiful woman.
I could see why my father had wanted to marry her. Of course, he married her when she’d been a beautiful girl, but Papa had never much cared about boundaries.
He only cared about power and status, and to him, a beautiful young wife might have seemed like a sign of both. It must have really sucked for him when she ran away.
I couldn’t help but smirk inwardly as she told her story – not because of what she’d gone through. I had nothing but sympathy there, especially considering my father was looking to put Joelle through something similar. But the thought that at twenty-two, she’d decided to just leave.
She’d had a young child, and she’d still had the courage to just leave.
“Was it hard?” I asked her as she finally stopped speaking, staring down in the tea she’d poured for all of us earlier.
The clock was ticking. In less than twenty minutes, Joelle would be back out front, and while I had answers to my questions, things still felt…unfinished.
“It was. Twenty-two, trying to raise a boy on my own?” She shrugged, reaching over to brush her fingers down Nicco’s arm. “But staying would have been harder. I didn’t want Nicco to grow up in that life. I couldn’t stay in that life. I had too much respect for myself. And leaving was the best thing I could do, not just for myself, but for my son.” She shot him a smile.
He didn’t return it, but I think it was because he was more focused on me.
“Are you going to tell us why you’re here?” he asked, his blue-gray eyes penetrating.
“I…” My heart lurched up into my throat as both he and his mother focused on me. I felt like I was under a microscope now, being all but dissected by their insightful gazes. What did I tell them?
The truth, a small voice inside me whispered. What is the point in lying here?
And wasn’t that the bitch of it?
If anybody would understand, it would be somebody like Catherine, who’d run from the life I was trying to escape, the life I was trying to save my sister from.
Squaring my shoulders, I met her gaze levelly. “I have a sister,” I said calmly. “She’s my half-sister. My mother died when I was very young. Papa goes through wives the way some people go through shoes.” Curling my lip, I tossed my hair over my shoulder before continuing. “Joelle, my sister, is five years younger than me, but sometimes, it feels like more. She’s just…” Lifting a hand, I floundered for the right word and finally settled on the only one that seemed to fit. “She’s innocent. Sweet. Life hasn’t hurt her…yet. But Papa decided she’s old enough to get married, and he’s promised her to one of the biggest bastards in the clan.”
Nicco’s jaw went tight, his eyes going cloudy, while Catherine passed a hand over her eyes. “Oh, honey,” she murmured sympathetically. “Is there anything we can do? How can we help?”
“We’ve already run away,” I said in a flat voice. “She’s out driving around right now. I’ll drive us both to the police and let her go to foster care before I let that bastard Ephraim get his hands on her.”
“Ephraim,” Catherine whispered. Her face paled.
I slanted a look at her. “You know him.”
“Yes.” She nodded, the motion jerky and uneven. “He was a bastard thirty-years ago. I don’t expect that’s changed.”
“No.”
She leaned forward and covered my hand with hers. “Come stay with us. Gabriel won’t try to intimidate me. He knows he can’t,” she said. “We can help. We can protect you.”
Some part of me wanted to say yes. The thought of having somebody else to count on was…it was almost overwhelming, but in the end, the thought of trusting somebody else was more than I could handle.
“No.” Shaking my head, I said quietly, “We’ll take care of each other.”
“I’d like to get to know you,” Nicco said, his voice almost gentle. “Both of you. I’ve always wondered if I had any brothers or sisters. Finding out that I have…” He shrugged, a smile crooking his lips. “Well, I’d like for us to be whatever kind of family we can.”
I laughed hollowly, unable to stop it. “Family. Family doesn’t mean much to me, Nicco. I’m sorry, but it doesn’t.”
He inclined his head. “I can understand that, but not everybody is like your father.”
“He’s your father too,” I pointed out.
“He’s a sperm donor,” Nicco countered. “There’s more to being a father than helping fertilize an egg, and that’s about all he did for me. Chances are, he didn’t do much more for you and Joelle either.”
The bitch of it was that I couldn’t even deny it.
My phone buzzed, and I looked down, seeing Joelle’s name flash up across the screen. I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed.
“She’s here,” I said dully. Rising, I looked from Catherine to Nicco.
Catherine tried once more. “Stay here,” she urged. “We can help.”
“I’ve got to get my sister out of the state. I want to go someplace where nobody has ever even heard of my family.” Laughing bitterly, I added, “I want to go someplace where the idea of a psychic on every street corner isn’t a reality. I want something normal for me and my sister.”
“What’s normal?” Nicco asked.
His question was so calmly delivered, so neutrally stated that I wanted to rip out my hair. What was normal? How was I to know?
Looking around the brightly lit living room with its pretty pieces of art and its comfortable couch and chairs, I shook my head. Was this normal?
“I wouldn’t know normal if it bit me on the ass,” I said bluntly.
My phone buzzed again.
Tightening my hand on the plastic casing, I looked from Catherine to Nicco. “I should go.”
Nicco took a step toward me, looking torn. “Will you at least keep in touch?” He held a business card in his hand.
I wanted to tell him no.
I wanted to tell him yes.
“I’ll think about it,” I allowed, taking the card from him.
Then I turned on my heel and strode for the door. Sitting out in the driveway, unaware that she had a half-brother watching us from the doorway, Joelle waited in the car for me.
When she saw me, she slid from the driver’s seat and walked around the car. Halfway there, she paused, her eyes lingering on my face. She came to me instead of getting in the car, reaching out to pull me into a hug. “What’s wrong?” she asked, whispering the question into my ear.
“Nothing. I was just…” I hesitated, uncertain how to answer the question. “I don’t know. I was hoping to figure something out. And I didn’t.”
“You will.” Joelle sounded sure and certain, and I wanted to laugh.
I hadn’t been sure and certain about anything in so long, it was almost laughable.
But if she could believe in me, I could fake it.
I took a deep breath. “Bet your ass
I will.”
Four
Kian
Mom had somehow talked me out of going after Suria, although now, less than a day after talking to her, I didn’t know how she’d done it.
And it wouldn’t work again.
I was going to find that woman and get my mother’s money back.
It wasn’t like the cops were making any progress – assuming they were even trying. I’d called today and gotten Merkel’s partner, who at least pretended to give a rat’s ass, but he still didn’t have any sort of update to give me.
He had told me that Suria didn’t have any sort of record.
Did that mean nobody had reported her before?
Or just that she hadn’t been charged before?
I knew shit all about the legal system, but there was no way she could run a con like this her first time, and it be so smooth.
So, it wasn’t her first time.
Maybe this was just the first time she’d gotten caught.
But if the cops weren’t going to make any progress, then I sure as hell would.
I didn’t give a good damn if I had to park my ass in front of Suria’s so-called place of business and stay there until I got somewhere.
The open sign that had proven to be so annoying didn’t turn on until well after nine, and a small woman with a heavy top-knot of iron-gray hair was already waiting on the doorstep, so I was forced to bide my time. I wasn’t too keen on that. I wanted to go inside and tell the old lady that she was wasting her time and money in that place, but I kept my peace and waited until the woman left.
I did make note of the license plate. If that woman suffered the same fate my mother had, she might want to know she’d gotten conned. I’d have my cop friend reach out to her once things were settled with my mom and Suria.
I started up the sidewalk, the piece of paper with the license plate information tucked inside my shirt pocket. Adrenaline and anger burned inside me, and I fought to keep the anger contained. It was a losing battle, and I practically ripped the door off its hinges as I strode inside.
A demand for answers danced on my tongue, along with something that might have been…indignation, outrage. Something. She could take that kind of money from my mother, then show up back here after a few days like nothing was wrong.
What kind of woman did that?
I didn’t know, but I sure as hell was going to find out.
That was actually the second question I planned to ask, burning its way up my throat.
Then the questions froze, trapped there when I caught sight of somebody who wasn’t Suria sitting in the chair. She rose when she saw me, a smile on her lips. It faltered at the sight of me, and her eyes fell away.
She looked familiar.
It hit me like a lightning bolt as to why, not even a second after.
She was Suria’s so-called cousin – the girl I’d seen dancing with Suria the night we’d met.
“Where is she?” I demanded, taking a step closer to the low coffee table that separated us.
“I…I’m sorry,” she said, her voice faltering. “Did we have an appointment?”
“No. And you aren’t the girl who usually runs this operation. Suria is – or should I say Sirene?” I glared at her and watched as the blood drained from her face.
She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed, no words coming out.
Finally, she rose, smoothing down the dusky rose skirt she wore. “I don’t know what you mean, but if you’d like to…” She paused, clearly floundering.
“Please.” I bared my teeth at her. “Offer to tell me my future. Or maybe you can run me for a trip, the way Suria did with my mom, telling her how she could help her find closure about her dead brother!”
The words ended on a shout.
Something that might have been guilt flickered inside me because the woman, hell, she was hardly more than a girl, flinched away from me, her long dark hair falling in her face, almost as if she was expecting a blow. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice hesitant.
“What, don’t you all talk about the cons you’re running?” I hated the fact that I felt a little guilty. Hated the fact that her pale face was cutting at me. Why did she look afraid? Why did I feel bad? I hadn’t done shit but come here and try to set things right after somebody had taken my mother for a ride.
“Sir.” A low, hard voice came from behind me.
Slowly, I turned, meeting the dull, dark eyes of a man who stood close to my height. He was older than me, thin, with the evidence of a beer belly hanging over his belt. Malevolence colored his eyes, his voice, his everything as he took a step toward me.
“I don’t care for the tone you use to speak to my niece,” he said.
His words rang false, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the way the girl huddled into herself. She seemed even more afraid now, withdrawing from not just me, but the man who’d just entered the room. Why?
“Is it the tone?” I challenged. “Or the fact that I know you all are running cons out of this place?”
Ugly rage darkened his already near black eyes, but he smiled, although it was more a baring of teeth. “Our clients know what we offer, my good sir. If somebody is unhappy, I can only apologize. But we never make promises.”
“My mother wasn’t given a promise,” I threw at him. “She was given a bunch of shit lies.” I took a step toward him. “And I can fucking prove it.”
“I think you should leave,” he suggested. He took a step toward me, and now we stood barely an arm’s distance apart.
I thought about closing it even further. Something about this guy rubbed me the wrong way.
I wanted to take his face and rub it the wrong way across the pavement outside, but that wasn’t going to help me accomplish my goals, which was getting my mother’s money back.
“I think I will,” I said softly. “You haven’t seen the last of me, though. I’m going to get my mother’s money back. I don’t care if I have to take it out of your miserable ass.”
Turning on my heel, I strode out the door and climbed into the car.
I sat there a few minutes, staring at nothing as I waited for some stunning revelation to come knocking.
What came a knocking was the woman from inside Suria’s house.
She knocked a second time before I looked over at her.
“Can we talk?” she said through the window.
I jabbed the button, waiting for the glass to roll completely down before I said a single word. “What, exactly, do we have to talk about?”
“Why are you looking for Suria?” she asked.
That was the last thing I expected to hear from her.
“I’d think it was obvious,” I said finally. “She fucking stole from my mother.”
The woman’s eyes fell away, and she swallowed, her throat working with the movement.
“Please don’t tell me that surprises you,” I said caustically. “You have to know what kind of shit goes on in these places. And you’re a part of it, kid.”
Her gaze flew to mine, and she opened her mouth, then closed it, shaking her head as though she just didn’t know what to say. Maybe she didn’t.
I jammed my key into the ignition and twisted it almost savagely. It was a wonder the key didn’t break off under the force I used. “Listen, kid,” I said, staring straight ahead. “I don’t know how you’re connected to all of this, but Suria messed up going after my mom. She’s going to get what she deserves. Everybody connected to this will.”
Five
Suria
Joelle was back in the swimming pool.
I was in the hotel lounge, nursing a whiskey and coke. I wanted straight whiskey, desperately, but I had to watch my pennies and mind my P’s and Q’s. I didn’t want to mind much of anything right now. I wanted to get good and drunk and just not think about anything.
“Care for another?” The bartender stopped in front of me, offering me a boyish grin.
&nb
sp; I would have loved another, but I shook my head.
I’d already been here for nearly an hour, and I needed to go check on Joelle, although really, all I wanted to do was fall face down on a bed and sleep. For a month.
The weight of the responsibility crushing into me was enough to choke me, but I fought it back as I laid enough money to cover the drink and a tip down on the surface of the bar.
I would get Joelle, get her back to the room, and the two of us were going to talk.
We had plans to make.
We needed to figure out where we were going to go. I was thinking about the Northeast. Some small town on the coast of Maine. That was pretty damn far from LA.
The sound of children laughing hit my ears as I entered the pool area. Chances were I’d find Joelle playing with the kids. She was a kid-lover, always had been. I’d never had time to love kids, even when I’d been one. But it was fun, watching her play around.
I felt some of the knots in my neck relaxing, just at the prospect.
They were back almost immediately though.
I didn’t see Joelle.
Spying the chair where she’d left her stuff, I saw that it was empty.
Okay, so she’d gone back to our room without telling me.
That wasn’t like her, but hey, Joelle could be flighty. It was her nature although she did hate it when I worried. Setting my jaw, I left the pool and headed to the room, already pulling my phone out. I punched in her number. The phone just rang.
She was taking a shower, I told myself. Washing the chlorine out of her hair.
She was so vain about her hair.
I reached the room, swiping the key card in such a jerky fashion, it took three tries before I could finally unlock the door. Striding inside, I called out, “Joelle?”
The door to the bathroom was open, the light off. All the lights were off and Joelle’s clothes were still neatly folded on the bed. The room looked exactly as it had before we left to go down to the pool.