by Stacy Gail
“That’s probably what did it—being ignored doesn’t sit well with some men, and I doubt Rude’s used to that kind of thing from a woman. Remember that hoochie woman he had a couple years back when he was stationed in Georgia? What was her name? Mama Coco couldn’t stand her.”
“Rita Jaramillo.” Though Sass had never met her and knew her only from photos and descriptions of her from Frankie, Tonya and Scout, it was hard to forget a woman with platinum blonde hair and black roots, a tan that no sun had ever created unless a person had Oompa Loompa DNA, and a D-cup that looked vaguely ridiculous when matched up her flat ass. “Rude met her at a car show, if I remember correctly.”
“That’s right. She was one of those girls in a bikini top and short-shorts who sprawls on cars like a not-so-virginal sacrifice.”
Sass tried to keep her immediate and profound need to be catty under wraps. “I heard that she was a model?”
“That’s what she said. I say I’m a goddess, but that doesn’t make me one.” Then Tonya shrugged, as if the whole subject was beneath her. “My point is that he met that chick, and within a day she was all over him like a bad rash. That’s probably what he’s used to—women falling all over themselves to offer up homeruns on a silver platter. He’s not the kind of man who’s used to being ignored.”
“So…” Sass’s brows drew together. “Maybe I should offer to play ball with him just to get back some control of my life.”
“I know you’ve always been about controlling things, but obviously Rude’s cut from the same cloth.” Giving up when Sabrina began spitting the food out, Tonya got up and snagged a kitchen towel off a hook near the stove. “What are his objectives in this Operation-whatever?”
“He won’t say. Only that it started out as a desire to make peace, but that objective changed a long time ago and now he’s aiming for something different.”
“Did he say what made him change his objective?”
Sass shook her head. “Nope, and I think he wouldn’t tell me even if I threatened to torture him. Remember, he’s been trained by the military.”
Tonya made a sound that could have meant anything as she went about the task of cleaning up her daughter. “So he’s the one pushing for this to happen, obviously. But the way I see it, you’re the one who’s going to have to be very careful in how you walk this tightrope.”
“Tightrope?” She frowned at her former foster sister as Tonya unbuckled Sabrina from her booster seat, set her in a cushy, rectangular play yard, and turned on the small flatscreen TV above the counter to keep her entertained. “What are you talking about?”
“Think about what stopped me from sneaking into his room all those years ago. I chose the stability and welcoming embrace of the Panuzzi family instead of playing around with one of them. You don’t play where you stay, as the saying goes. If you do, you won’t be staying there for long.”
A block of ice dropped into the pit of her stomach. “I’m not playing with him, Tonya. He’s pursuing me, full tilt, not the other way around.”
“Yeah, but you’re not stopping him. And I’m not saying you should, so don’t misunderstand. I actually like the idea of you and Rude together.”
That made one of them, as far as Sass was concerned. “So… what’s the problem?”
“I know how you like your relationships.” With a quick look around the kitchen and one last peek at a glassy-eyed Sabrina, she settled back at the table next to Sass. “No strings, no promises, no commitments and no complications. The moment you hook up with one of your pretty boy-toys, we both know you’ve already got one foot out the door. If they get too close or too clingy, you hit the eject button because you don’t like people to get too close. You’re the epitome of a stray—footloose and fancy free. You’re the one who does the leaving, before anyone can leave you. That way it doesn’t hurt as much.”
Tonya’s words hit Sass hard enough to make her catch her breath. Apparently the truth really did hurt. “We all have problems making lasting attachments with other people.”
“I’ll be the first to admit it. Mama Coco and Papa Bolo gave it their best shot, trying to teach us that some things can last forever, and I love them for it. But by the time we all reached the Panuzzi house, a lot of damage had been done. We’d learned the ugly truth right from the beginning of life—people leave, because people suck. So it’s better to do the leaving first and not get messy about it.”
“Thus becoming one of those people who suck.” Sass huffed out a short breath, but it didn’t relieve the tension inside. “Do you have a point to all of this?”
“Rude doesn’t know what it’s like to be us, my sweet little sister.” Tonya reached over to grab Sass’s hand lying on the table with both of hers. “I know why you do the s-word you do. You can’t settle into a relationship that lasts longer than a couple months, because you have no effing clue how to do it. Life never taught you anything except how to leave people behind, so that’s what you do. You bail at the first sign of trouble, thinking that’s how it’s supposed to be, because that’s how it’s always been. But you can’t do that if you want to go the distance with anyone, and you especially can’t do that with Rude. He’s a Panuzzi, Sass. If you hurt one of them, you hurt all of them, including Mama Coco and Papa Bolo.”
And she’d thought Tonya’s words had impact before. “How do you suggest I play this out?”
“Don’t play. If you’re going to do this with Rude, then do it. Do it with everything you’ve got, with all the courage you’ve got, with all the crazy you’ve got. Do your best to not treat him like just another temporary boyfriend you have to try to control, then kick to the curb once you’re done with him. And if you can’t do that, pull out now before it’s too late and damage is done to your relationship with the entire Panuzzi family.”
Sass shivered at the all-or-nothing scenario Tonya laid out in all its terrifying glory. Her first instinct was to pull deep into her Nowhere Place and stay there until she found a way to be content with nothing. That was why she didn’t react when she heard a familiar name on TV.
“Holy shit.” Tonya’s hands squeezed Sass’s hard enough to make her wince. Baffled, she looked up, only to see Tonya staring in horror at the television screen. The cartoon that had been playing was gone, and the noonday news had taken its place.
“…body found floating in the Chicago River early this morning has been identified. Liam Cadwallader, twenty-five, was a barista and part-time musician. Security cameras show Cadwallader closing up the coffeehouse where he worked on Wednesday around midnight. Authorities are now trying to piece together how he came to be naked in the river, with the words ‘unworthy coward’ written in Russian on his chest.”
Russian.
The one word dropped poison into Sass’s veins.
Oh God.
Fucking Russian.
Why did it have to be Russian? Unless…
No. It couldn’t possibly be.
It had to be a coincidence.
Maybe Liam had gotten involved in something sinister. Yes, that had to be it. Before he’d tried giving her a flying lesson off the landing and nearly killing her, she hadn’t seen him in six months. She had no clue what sort of trouble he’d been getting up to in all that time. His winding up in the river had nothing whatsoever to do with her. It wasn’t possible.
It was just a coincidence.
That was all.
“I’m sure this has nothing to do with you, or with Rude.”
Sass turned to look at her former foster sister, so shocked she had trouble processing her words. Tonya didn’t know about the letter her biological mother had left her; only Scout knew about it. And Scout had laughed at it just as much as she had, so what the hell was Tonya talking about?
“What?”
“This whole Liam thing. I’m sure he tangled with something he shouldn’t have, something that has nothing to do with you or Rude.”
“Rude? No, this wouldn’t have anything to do with Rude. He flew
to Toronto for some security thing after our non-date at the amusement park on Tuesday. He wasn’t even in the country when this happened.”
“Oh, thank God.” Tonya clutched at her chest and collapsed back into her chair. “Because, honey, I was totally thinking it was Rude. I mean… my God, that fool got himself killed. Holy shit.”
“Shit,” Sabrina said solemnly, and chewed on the edge of her play yard while staring at her mother.
Sass couldn’t settle. Not surprising, considering one of her former lovers—a total dickhead and worthless human being, but still—had wound up on a slab. She didn’t feel bad about Liam’s death, mainly since he’d tried to kill her. But her cage was now officially rattled.
Instead of getting her usual ton of ingredients ready for what she did every weekend—cooking five to six dishes, and photographing every step along the way—she’d burned much of the afternoon waffling about calling the police. But as she had no clue what had happened to Liam, she finally decided it was best to leave it be. Since Rude had forced her into reporting her former boyfriend for smashing her face in and throwing her down a ginormous flight of stairs like the crazy-pants asshole he was—or, had been—the authorities knew where to find her. No doubt they would get in touch with her if they had any questions for her.
And she’d tell them exactly what she knew. Nothing. Wednesday night she’d been babysitting for Frankie and her husband Rocco until the wee hours of the morning. She had a rock-solid alibi in case she needed one.
Wow. Her life had taken a sharp left turn straight into Crazy Town if she was making sure she had an alibi. How wrong was that? Hadn’t she had enough bullshit to deal with in her lifetime already?
The faintest trill and a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye made Sass glance at the end of the sofa, then just as quickly away again. Red The Skittish, as Sass was now calling her, had decided to appear voluntarily and without the coaxing of food, and it was suddenly as special a moment as being visited by the Queen of England. She didn’t want to spoil it by making eye contact and freaking the cat out.
“I think your new foster mommy might be a nut, Red The Skittish,” Sass told the black tufted ottoman in front of her, while out of the corner of her eye she watched the wary calico slowly slink closer. “If someone was mean to you—like throw you down the stairs kind of mean—you wouldn’t give them another thought, would you? Because I’m sitting here worrying about that jerk’s death like it has something to do with me, and it doesn’t. I’m sure it doesn’t. Totally sure.”
The cat stopped its advanced and backed up a pace.
“I’m not lying, so don’t act like that, okay? And I’m also losing my grip over how Tonya made me realize I have no clue how to do long-term. I think that’s like a learned skill, but people like me—and you for that matter, though some might say you don’t qualify as a person—never had a chance to learn what long-term is. Strays like us count it as a win when we just get through the day. And there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”
She hazarded another sneaky glance Red’s way. The cat sat on her haunches and was staring at her like she was trying to figure out why Sass was talking to the ottoman. Sass couldn’t blame her.
“But there’s something to be said for stability and permanence, isn’t there? I’ve lived in this apartment for over six years now, can you believe it? That’s the longest I’ve ever stayed in any one place, by far. And I’ve gotten used to it. I love this space, but the major thing I love about it is that it’s here. It’s real, it’s solid, and it’s something I can believe in. So doesn’t that prove that maybe long-term stability is something people like us can pull off, despite our shitty backgrounds? Yeah, we’re strays, but can’t strays find a home so that they’re not strays anymore? That happened to you, right? You have a permanent home now with Scout, and you’re happy.”
She chanced another glance.
Red The Skittish was washing her unmentionables.
Lovely.
Since sitting at home was clearly making her crazy, Sass decided that getting out of the silent apartment was the best possible thing she could do for her mental health. Making sure Red had fresh food and water, she grabbed up a slim-fit zip-up hoodie that matched her hot pink and black yoga leggings and pink running shoes, and headed across the street to the park. Earlier, while she’d been nervously waiting for the police to come pounding on her door, she’d tried writing herself into a Zen state, moving through a section of her cookbook manuscript that focused on recipes inspired by what she’d learned in Mama Coco’s kitchen. But even after she’d finished that and moved on to getting a couple weeks ahead on her diet and nutrition column, her mind was still on tilt-a-whirl mode. Since she’d already decided to put her grocery-shopping off until tomorrow followed by a busy day of being either in the kitchen or behind the camera, she hoped a brisk walk around the park would flush the stress out.
And if that didn’t work, she’d ignore the carb and calorie knowledge she had on wine, and chill the hell out the old-fashioned way. It wasn’t every day an ex wound up naked in the Chicago River, after all.
She’d just stepped onto the park’s well-manicured grass when her phone went off with Scout’s ringtone of Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” Thanking whatever gods were in charge of serendipity, Sass had the phone out and up to her ear before Aretha had even finished spelling out the song’s title. But when she heard Scout on the other end, she almost put it back in her pocket.
“I cannot believe you! How the fucking hell could you not tell me that that skinny-assed, goddamn cocksucker Liam whatever-the-fuck-his-loser-asshole-name-was put you in the fucking hospital?”
Eep.
“Ah.” Despite thousands of miles separating them, Sass still believed Scout was scarier than the Hulk when she got in a snit. “Hey, Scout. Uh, so I guess you’ve had a wee chat with either Tonya or Frankie?”
“Oh my God, Frankie knew? Fucking Frankie, but not me?”
Damn it, Tonya, you blabber mouth. “You’re on your honeymoon, you idiot. I’m not going to interrupt one of the most important times of your life by running to you with every little problem that crops up.”
“A piece of shit dickhead ex-boyfriend lands you in the hospital because he tried to kill you with a set of huge-ass stairs. Rude—oh my God, Rude, of all people—comes to your rescue and you wind up playing tongue-tag with him twenty-four hours later. Then the ex becomes fucking fish food with fucking Russian scrawled all over his pasty ass. And you’re talking about little problems?”
Any second now Scout was going to burst a blood vessel. “I believe the Russian shit was written on his pasty chest, not his pasty ass. If we’re going to be dramatic, at the very least we should be accurate.”
There was an explosive beat of silence. “It’s Russian, Sass. Russian.”
“I know.” Tonya certainly hadn’t left out any details, that much was clear. And while Tonya didn’t know there was any significance to that particular detail, Scout did. Funny, how it didn’t seem to be as ridiculous now as it had when she was eighteen. “Do you remember how we laughed at that letter?”
“Yeah, I remember. I thought it was the funniest thing I’d ever read.”
“I did too.”
“I don’t think it’s funny anymore.”
That made two of them. “It could be a coincidence.”
“It’s not, Sass.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You’re right,” came the measured reply, and Sass recognized the shift in Scout’s tone. She’d gone into crisis-management mode. That meant Scout believed there was a crisis that needed to be managed. “I don’t know that. But it would be the biggest fucking coincidence the world has ever known, if that’s what it is. Which it isn’t.”
“I don’t need you to scout out trouble for me.” It was finding her just fine all on its own.
“I’m going to tell Ivar we need to come home early, so—”
“Don’t you dare.”
Horrified, Sass heard the emotional crack in her voice, but having another drop of pressure applied to her now was going to make her shatter. Blindly she began walking toward the Cloud Gate, more commonly known as The Bean, a kidney-bean shaped sculpture the size of a commercial fishing boat, made out of stainless steel and had the seamless, mirror-like finish of liquid mercury. “Please don’t ruin your honeymoon, Scout. Your being here isn’t going to change anything, and right now there’s nothing to be done. Tonya and I had a long talk about Rude, and I have a lot to think about on that score, which means you can’t help me there, either. Don’t make me feel even worse by allowing my crazy shit to ruin your special time with your man, okay? More than anything right now, I need you to be deliriously happy, and stupid in love, and exhausted from too much sex. Please, please do this for me.”
“You ask the hardest things,” came the frustrated reply, before she offered a reluctant laugh when she clearly realized what she’d said. “But okay, I’ll soldier through.”
Sass expelled a relieved breath. “Thank you, hon.”
“I’m still going to be worrying about you during the non-sexy times, though, and we’ll be back home late Sunday night whether you like it or not. Please don’t disappear into the grip of some crazy Russian Mafia dude between now and then, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
But since she had no idea what was going on around her, she couldn’t promise anything, Sass thought as she hung up. It seemed like eons had passed since she and Scout had laughed at the immature ramblings her birth mother had left behind. It had been easy to dismiss, because the odds of any of it being true had been so minute she couldn’t begin to calculate it.
But now…
She sighed. She had no idea what to do. Getting the hell out of Dodge was her first instinct, but for how long? And where would she go? She’d never been outside of Illinois. She didn’t even know if there was anything to run from, for God’s sake. And she’d be leaving Rude behind…