by Bethany-Kris
“Why wouldn’t Andino tell me?”
Cross cleared his throat. “Well, on that, you should talk to—”
“I think you’ve kept enough from me,” Catherine interjected coldly. “Just tell me.”
Fine.
“Money.”
Catherine’s jaw tightened, and her gaze hardened. She turned in her seat to stare out the windshield, and not at Cross. “Money.”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He thought you would quit or maybe work for Catrina instead of him. You pull in a lot of cash all on your own, and he felt telling you would risk his bottom line.”
“Is that so?”
“Catherine …”
She looked at her diamond encrusted watch. “Do you know where Andino lives?”
“I do.”
“I would like you to take me there.”
“Are you even sure he’s home? A couple of hours ago, I was in a warehouse with him, and he was working.”
“He’s home. It’s twelve, and Snaps eats at twelve every night before Andino walks him around the block. That dog keeps a tight schedule. Please take me to his place. Now.”
“Sure, babe. Do you—”
“You should have told me,” Catherine said, cutting off Cross’s words. “Back then, I mean. You were the only one who knew, or had an idea, that I was struggling with the lies I was juggling and the act I put on. You should have told me.”
“Maybe you should have tried being honest, too.”
Catherine didn’t deny it. “You still should have told me, Cross.
Cross opened his mouth to say something, maybe ask if another day would be a better time to do this, but Catherine’s glare quieted him instantly. She knocked on the door of Andino’s Brooklyn brownstone. It took another thirty seconds of knocking before Andino finally came to the door.
He opened it up with a, “What the fuck, you can’t call or something?”
Catherine pushed past her cousin, forcing the door wide open, and making Andino take a wide step back. She gave Andino a shove on his bare chest, and pointed a finger at his face. “You … you fucking asshole.”
“Hey, don’t come here to my home calling me names, Catty.”
Cross stepped into the hallway of the brownstone, and closed the door behind him. Andino passed him a look, and the man’s gaze narrowed.
“You told her, then?”
Cross shrugged. “Guess so.”
Catherine stepped in front of Cross, and back in the line of her cousin’s vision. “Don’t even pay him any attention. It’s me you need to be talking to, Andino.”
“How dare you?” Catherine shrieked.
Cross cringed. Catherine only got loud when she was at her limit.
“I beg your pardon?” Andino asked.
“You know why I’m here. You know what you did … what you’ve been doing!”
“Catherine, it’s not even a big deal. So your parents know you’ve been hustling for me, whatever. Who gives a shit? They clearly don’t. They just kept quiet because they wanted you to tell them. I went along with it, all right. That’s it.”
“No, that’s not it,” Catherine muttered, stepping up to her cousin again. “That’s not even close to being it, you prick.”
She poked her finger into Andino’s chest hard enough to make the guy flinch. As big as a linebacker, Andino easily towered over Catherine in height. He had a good eighty pounds of muscle on her slim one-hundred-twenty pounds, too. Yet, in the face of her rage, he took a hesitant step back. Cross didn’t blame him.
“You’ve listened to me say over and over again how anxious it made me to even think my parents would find out that I was hustling drugs,” Catherine hissed. “You played along with that, Andino, you joked with me about it, and fed those fears to get a rise out of me. Or, that’s what I thought. Because we’re family, right, so you didn’t mean me any harm. You couldn’t, but you did. You did that shit not because you knew how I felt, but because of what you wanted.”
“I—”
“Money,” Catherine interjected with another sharp jab of her finger into Andino’s chest. “That’s what this was about for you. Not the fact that telling me could have saved me a lot of unnecessary worrying and work hiding what I was doing all these years. No, you didn’t tell me because you liked the money I was making.”
“Exactly that,” Andino said simply.
Catherine straightened like someone had shoved a rod up her spine. She dropped her hand. “You’re not even ashamed of it.”
Andino lifted a single shoulder like it didn’t matter. “Nope. You’re fucking predictable, Catherine. All you would need was the slightest idea that your daddy didn’t like what you were doing, and you would fuck off somewhere else. Or even better yet, you’d run to your mother and get in on her shit. Here’s the thing, I wasn’t letting that happen. So yeah, I played along. Yeah, I worked your fears a bit to make sure you kept your business with me separated far away from your parents. And fuck yeah, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
Andino smirked, adding, “This is my crew, Catherine, and my money we’re talking about. It’s business. I supply you. I keep you going. You make me money. That’s how it works, and I want it to keep working. There’s nothing else to be said about it.”
Catherine nodded, and took a step back. “Well, fuck you, Andino. I’ve got news for you—I’ll never deal for you again. Not after this. I promise you that.”
“Catty, you don’t get it. That’s not how it works in this business. You don’t get to just drop the person that’s kept you above water and helped you make a name. You owe me for getting you where you are, sweetheart. You can be pissed off about it all you want. Still, when next month rolls around, make sure you’ve got my money, and you’re picking up your next package to run.”
“Hey,” Cross said, stepping in between the two. His gaze locked on Andino’s. “If she’s done, man, then that’s the fucking end of it. Let her be done if that’s what she wants.”
“That’s not how it works, Cross, and you know it.”
“It’s going to work that way this time.”
Cross would make sure of it.
“No, I don’t—”
“Andino, is something wrong?”
The new, quiet voice made Cross glance down the hall. A pale-skinned, willowy blonde leaned over the staircase railing at the end of the hallway. Teal and violet streaks colored her platinum hair. Nothing but a sheet she had clutched at her chest kept her covered. Peeks of tattoos covered her collarbones.
“Who are you?” Catherine asked.
The girl looked between Andino and Catherine. “Um …”
“None of your business,” Andino muttered to Catherine. Then, he looked to the girl. “Haven, head upstairs, all right?”
Haven didn’t look pleased, but she flicked a hand over her shoulder before she did as Andino asked. Colorful tattoos inked up her shoulders and arm.
“Who was that?” Catherine asked.
“I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah, mind my business. Who is she?”
“A woman,” Andino snapped.
Catherine cocked a brow in challenge. “She just shows up to your place wearing a sheet or something? Since when did you start seeing someone?”
“My personal life is not up for discussion. There’s enough fucking people in this family who seem to think it is.” Andino stepped to the side, and yanked open the front door. “Now, get the fuck out. The next time you come to my house, make sure you call first.”
“Fuck you,” Catherine spat over her shoulder.
“Remember what I said, too. This is business, Catherine. You don’t get to walk away from business just because you want to.”
Catherine flipped her middle finger over her shoulder as Cross followed behind her. “And you hear me—I won’t ever deal for you again, cousin.”
Andino slammed the door behind them with a bang.
“I’ll take you home,” Cross said as Catherine dug th
rough her bag.
She looked up at him on the cold, empty street. “Actually, I think I’m going to call a cab.”
He frowned. “Why? I’m here. I can take you.”
“Just … you were supposed to be different, Cross. Especially back then, okay?”
“I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”
“You lied to me back then about this. Just like Andino. Just like my mom and dad. You were supposed to be different for me.”
“Catty, come on. That was a long time ago.”
Catherine scoffed. “Yeah, right? Still feels like yesterday, though.”
Those words stung.
Cross had to let them.
“I’ll call you,” Catherine said over her shoulder as she headed down the street. “I will, Cross. Give me some time.”
What choice did he have?
Catherine parked the Lexus in the drive of her parents’ home, and drummed her manicured fingernails to the steering wheel. The entire drive to Amityville had left her anxious, but now, her anger was returning fast and swift.
She hadn’t slept at all the night before. She couldn’t sleep when she had far too many questions rattling around in her mind, and just as much anger filling up her heart.
Sadness and anxiety, Catherine could deal with. She had learned the best tools to handle those kinds of emotions through her work with Cara. But anger? Not so much.
It didn’t help that for reasons Catherine couldn’t quite explain, a deep sense of betrayal had burrowed into her heart. Like everyone around her had lied, lied, and lied more.
Before she could convince herself otherwise, Catherine exited the Lexus and headed for the house. Inside, laughter filled the main hallway. She followed the sound to the kitchen, where she found her mother and father.
For a moment, she simply watched the two. They didn’t seem to notice her presence in the entryway.
Catrina sat on Dante’s lap at the head of the table. He tipped his wife back, and kept a tight hold on her before he kissed her twice in quick succession.
“What are you working on, bello?” Catrina asked.
“Nothing,” he murmured. “I can’t love my wife?”
“You can.”
It was a cute, sweet scene. Any other day—any other time—and Catherine wouldn’t have interrupted. She probably would have turned away, and tiptoed out of their presence so they didn’t know she was there. For the most part, her parents were very private about their love and how they expressed it to one another.
Sure, she saw lots of moments between them over the years, but not because they allowed her to see it.
Dante and Catrina Marcello were not the kinds of people who allowed others—even their family—to witness their private moments. Something as simple as handholding could be incredibly intimate for them, and so they treated it that way.
It was not for the consumption of others.
So yeah, any other time, and Catherine wouldn’t have stepped in on their moment. Right then, though, she was too pissed and too confused to really care.
“When were you going to tell me you knew I was working for Andino?”
Instantly, Catrina was up out of her husband’s lap. Her mother fixed her dress while her father’s head whipped in Catherine’s direction.
“Catherine,” Dante said, standing from the chair.
She was supposed to come over to visit this week. That’s what she had promised her father.
He probably expected that.
Not this.
“I asked a question,” Catherine pointed out.
Catrina cleared her throat, and looked to Dante. “Well, couldn’t we ask you same thing?”
“Except I asked you first.”
“Don’t act like a child, Catty,” Dante said. “Be respectful.”
“Once I get an answer, sure.”
“Catherine.”
She ignored her father’s second warning.
“Apparently, you’ve known that I was dealing for … well, since I started,” Catherine said, opening her arms wide. “Stupid me thought neither of you had a clue because no one figured they should speak up. You didn’t think for even a second that you should maybe tell me you knew what I was up to?”
“You didn’t think you should tell us,” her father shot back.
Catherine’s hackles rattled.
She rose to the bait.
“All this time, you’ve known. So I guess you were just, what, getting a good laugh about it all? Silly little me with my head in the sand, right?”
“No,” Catrina said, “of course not, Catherine. We just—”
“Whenever I asked about Ma’s business, you both shut me down. Whenever school came up in conversation, I was pushed in that direction. I kept this quiet because I felt like I had no other choice. Yet, I did have a choice. You both knew what I was doing, but shit, maybe you wanted me to do something else, so you just opted to say nothing. What, did you fucking hope I would eventually let it go if you didn’t speak up?”
Dante frowned. “Now—”
“Can’t you just answer a question?”
Her shout echoed in the quiet house.
Neither of her parents said a thing.
Catherine’s anger bubbled higher. “You know what, this is ridiculous. You’re both ridiculous.”
She turned to leave already done with a conversation her parents couldn’t seem to have with her. She was not wasting her time more than she already had.
“Catherine!”
“Go to hell,” she shouted over her shoulder.
“Catty, wait,” her mother called.
“I guess that’s our thing, right?” Catherine asked at the front door as she pulled on her ankle-high boots. “We’re all fucking liars here. I lie, you lie, and we all lie about what we’re lying about.”
“Catherine, are you even listening to yourself?” Dante held up a hand to keep Catrina from coming further down the hall. “You’ve come here to fight with us about something that doesn’t even need to be a fight. Tell me what the real problem is, please.”
Fuck him.
He didn’t even get it.
“It’s a damn shame, Daddy. Had I known years ago that I could have come to you when I needed you the most without fear of your anger or judgement, it might have saved me from everything. Had you given me someone to come to, like I needed, I wouldn’t have tried to hide how fucked up I was. Don’t you get that? You didn’t tell me, so I didn’t think I could tell you!”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t,” Catherine spat, more frustrated than ever. “You don’t know anything about me at all! I never felt like I could tell you!”
“Whose fault is that, Catherine?”
“When are you going home?”
Catherine looked up from the book in her hands. Cara stood across the living room with her hands on her hips. Despite her posture, Cara did wear a small smile.
“Soon,” Catherine said, “but I need a break, that’s all.”
Cara nodded. “Everyone does once in a while. At first, I was fine and happy to accept that excuse from you when you didn’t want to talk. Now, not so much.”
Catherine frowned. “And why is that?”
“You’ve been here, oh …” Cara waved a hand, and finally said, “Five days, now.”
“So?”
“You haven’t talked once about why.”
“Because you’re a safe place for me,” Catherine said quietly.
Cara’s postured softened. “I know that, Catherine, and I will always be that for you. Should you need it, of course. This time, however, I don’t actually think you do need it.”
“How can you know that if you don’t know why I’m here?”
“Your father got in touch with me this morning.”
Fuck.
Catherine tossed her book aside with a sigh. She left New York the night she had confronted her parents. She didn’t bother to call them before she left, e
ither. She assumed someone would figure it out, and clearly, they had.
“You cannot just run when things are not going your way,” Cara said. “You’re twenty-five, not ten.”
“Ouch,” Catherine muttered.
“Child-like tactics deserve appropriate responses, Catherine.”
“I didn’t … run.”
“Oh, yes you did.” Cara strolled across the large living room, and took a seat on the sectional across from Catherine. “It seems, from what I understand, something came up that you didn’t like, and didn’t know how to appropriately deal with. Your first choice was to not deal with it, and so here you are. That, Catherine, is called running.”
“When you put it that way, sure, but—”
“How long have I been telling you to be truthful with your parents about dealing drugs?”
Catherine wouldn’t meet Cara’s gaze. “A while.”
“The entire time I’ve been a part of your life, actually.”
“I said a while.”
“Why did you feel the need to confront your parents in the way you did?”
“I don’t know,” Catherine admitted.
“Or do you, but again, you don’t want to deal with it.”
“You never cut me slack, Cara.”
“That’s not my job. My job is to make you take a good, hard look in the mirror, and own the reflection staring back at you. I give you tools to handle situations in life that upset your delicate balance, so that you can set yourself upright once more. I teach you how to manage your life in a world full of triggers that could set you back. So no, I am not here to hold your hand and let you run from issues that pop up.”
Cara smiled, and crossed her legs before she said, “And that is why I think you came to me. That is why you came here for your break. Everyone else in your life is too busy holding your hand, and walking on egg shells. None of them will tell you what you need to hear, when you need to hear it. They’re concerned they’re going to upset your balance. I, on the other hand, am quite aware of just how strong you actually are.”
“Cross probably would,” Catherine said after a moment. “Tell me the truth, I mean. Put me on the spot. Make me own my shit.”
“Are you still seeing him?”