by Haley Jenner
“Anyway,” she distracts my dark thoughts, squeezing my hand once more before letting go. “Tell me what’s new.”
She watches me eagerly, one hundred percent invested in what fills my life. She looks like Mom in these carefree moments, when her spirit is allowed to breathe, no longer suffocated by the devil. Her hair is a little darker than Mom’s was, but the shape of her face, the color of her eyes, her complexion; they’re identical to Mom. Rocco seeks Mira out for comfort, to bring mom closer to him. I avoid her for the very same reason. It spikes the most bitter parts of me. Seeing her hurts my heart as much as it calms hers. But I love her, so I let myself feel the pain. Rocco and I are all she has left of our mom, her sister, her best friend.
“Not much, Aunt Mira. Working heaps, bar is doing well, keeping me busy, outta trouble,” I smirk and she rolls her eyes.
“Find that hard to believe, Parker.”
The waitress brings our food and Mira thanks her with a wide smile and sincere words. Like Mom, she’s just so good. Deep within her heart, within her soul, she’s good. This life should’ve never been theirs. They should’ve stayed away from Kane Shay and Marcus Dempsey and lived a life not weighed down by loss and violence.
“Eat,” she prompts and I watch her for a moment.
“Mira,” I call and she looks up from her salad, her fork pausing mid-air. “Love you. You know that, right?”
She places her fork back in her bowl, leaning over to cup both hands around my face. “I know that, sweetheart. I love you too. You and your brother, you’re all that matter in my life.”
“Parker?”
Mira’s hands fall away from my face as I turn to the sound of Codi’s voice. She’s standing by the table, a small look of uncertainty playing of her beautiful face.
“Sugar,” I stand, leaning down to place my lips against hers.
She looks to Mira hesitantly and I gesture for her to sit. “Codi, baby, this is Mira. Mira, Codi,” I introduce them. Mira glances to me expectantly, shaking her head when I give her nothing more.
“Nice to meet you, Codi. Mira Dempsey,” she offers her hand across the table. “Parker’s Aunt.”
Codi takes her hand readily, a large smile pulling at her pink toned lips. “So lovely to meet you. Codi Rein, Parker’s girlfriend.”
I watch Mira’s reaction closely; the heavy swallow within her throat, the widening of her silver eyes. “Codi Rein,” she tests, making certain she heard correctly.
Codi nods, the gesture unsure and anxious as she glances to me for reassurance.
“Lunch break?” I change the subject, ignoring Mira’s probing glare.
“Yeah,” Codi affirms, looking across the table awkwardly, then back to me. “I won’t keep you from your lunch. Just ran in to grab a coffee and a piece of cake and saw you sitting here.”
I drop my lips to hers again. More from necessity than anything else; my need, my want to taste her, especially now, almost too much.
She pulls back from our kiss almost shyly, her eyes seeking out Mira once again. Coughing, she clears her throat. “I’m so sorry for interrupting your lunch.”
“Not at all,” Mira smiles genuinely. “You should join us.”
“I’d love to, but this one made me pull a sick day yesterday, something I don’t often do. Shop was a disaster when I came in this morning,” she sighs. “Honestly, I really have to get back.” She stands. “It was lovely to meet you, Mira.”
Mira stands as well, smiling wide. “We’ll get Parker to organize a lunch with the three of us, give us a chance to get to know one another.”
“I’d like that.” Codi grins, the warm affection in her tone stabbing me in the heart as much as the emptiness that will be Mira’s promise.
I hold a finger up to Mira, telling her to give me a second and she nods, taking her seat and turning back to her salad as I follow Codi from the café.
She turns to exit, walking into my frame and I don’t hesitate in drawing her into my body. “You never told me you had an aunt. She’s lovely.”
“Didn’t keep it from your purposefully,” I lie. “Don’t see her much nowadays. Just slipped my mind.”
She watches me skeptically and to stop her asking any more questions, I close my mouth over hers, cutting off her train of thought with a deep, wet kiss. She returns it with enthusiasm, her tongue caressing mine in a way that leaves no doubt to where her mind has traveled. I break the kiss, smiling at the protesting groan she lets out when I do.
“Tonight, baby.”
She nods. “Tonight. You working?”
“Nah. Night off. Want you at the loft. Wanna fuck you in my bed tonight.”
She bites her bottom lip. “Okay. I’ll be over around seven.”
I plant a chaste kiss on her tempting lips once more, stepping back before I get lost in her once again. I watch her walk away, her head turning back every few feet, smiling and waving each time she sees I’m still there. Fuck, she’s a dork. An adorable, addictive dork. Hitting the corner before she turns out of sight, she blows me a kiss and the grin I no longer need to force around her works its way onto my face.
Mira watches my approach, her silver eyes cutting into my brain cavity. I sit down without meeting her eyes, picking up my fork and begin shoveling food into my mouth to stop my ability for conversation.
“I’ll wait till you’re done or you can stop forcing excess amounts of food into your mouth to avoid talking about whatever the fuck you and your brother are playing at.”
I drop my fork, loudly, the sound echoing through the café. I swallow my mouthful, chasing it down with a large sip of water. Finally, wiping my mouth, I meet her intense stare.
She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to; her questions are clear enough.
“Doesn’t concern you, Mira. Something Roc and I just need to do.”
She looks affronted, hurt contorting her features, making her look years younger. “Doesn’t concern me? It’s my sister you’re working your revenge plan for.”
“Our mother. Don’t forget that part. Our mother. They took her from us, Mira,” I spit across the table. “Left us with that monster who used to be our dad. He was no better than Marcus in the end,” I accuse.
She blinks down her guilt, once again taking responsibility for the agony our father put us through. But that’s not on her. That’s on Dominic Rein. Him and only him.
“Parker, they never proved Dominic Rein had anything to do with Lila dying. Cops worked their damnedest to pin it on him. They couldn’t. Sweetheart, there was no evidence that even suggested him.”
I shake my head at her disbelief. “What? You don’t think the fact that my father seemed to be getting tipped off with details of Dominic’s business wasn’t motive enough? Or that that intel started giving my father more power, he started claiming more turf, bigger deals. That’s not reason enough for Dominic Rein to act out?”
She leans across the table, reaching for my hands, which I give to her, reluctantly. “I’m not saying there isn’t a possibility it was Dominic. I’m just saying there was no actual proof. Be smart before someone gets hurt.”
I look down at the table, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s done. It’s already in motion.”
“Parker,” she stresses. “Parker, look at me.”
I follow her instruction, the strict, demanding tone of her voice leaving no argument. “You love her.”
My eyes cut to the side, an overwhelming sense of emotion racking my body, causing water to leak from my eyes.
“You love her,” she repeats and I nod, my eyes glued to the stained yellow wall of the café.
“You go ahead with this, whatever you guys are planning, it can’t be undone. You’ll lose her.”
I swallow deeply, sniffing loudly as I tip my head back. “Think I don’t know that?”
She blinks sadly and I lean across the table, bringing our faces closer together. “You think I don’t fuckin’ know that,” I repeat angrily.
“Then s
top it,” she implores, but I refute her plea with a quick negative movement of my head.
“Your mom and I always vowed we’d keep you and Rocco out of whatever your father and Marcus involved themselves in. She always made me promise if something were to happen to her that I’d keep that promise. That I wouldn’t let you both fall into the abyss of their darkness.”
She sighs in regret, in self-reproach and I remain silent as she massages her temples. “It cost me a lot,” she accuses softly. “My disobedience, my refusal to let you two be swallowed up in their world.”
Guilt is an awful feeling, the way it engulfs you; overtaking your mind, physically affecting your body. I’ve felt shaky about it for weeks now. Felt weakened by its overpowering strength, felt it threaten to spill over and consume me completely. I don’t know how it’s stayed contained. Scarcely. I know that. But watching Mira, having aged within moments; her delicate features now lined with the worry and the hardship of her life, of ours. I know she’s endured a lot. More than she deserved. Well and truly. And in a singular moment, I’ve let it crash down on top of her, letting it be known that everything she has done to protect us, has been for nothing. A waste. An insignificant collection of years that she was going to be swallowed up by eventually, no matter how she fought it.
How depressing the realization that the circle of hate my father created has continued without him. More so, it's expanded. Sickeningly, he'd be proud, pleased at the rage rooted inside Rocco and I. We were drawn to his evil even before we realized, though we might never admit it. A moth to a flame. Brainwashed little soldiers salivating at the opportunity to wreak havoc, to cause chaos. All for our selfish reasoning. We're no better than our father, than Dominic. Hurting others, even those we love, to find our own place in the world.
We're monsters; Rocco and me. Cold and heartless and definitely people our mother would be ashamed of. The thought agonizes me. Ashamed. Disappointed. Would she smile at us the way she once did, knowing what we became? Or would she look at us the same way Mira is right now; lost, defeated, embarrassed that we share the same blood.
Maybe it was always meant to be this way. In tragedy, our father’s hate will die with us. Neither Rocco nor I are stupid enough to procreate, so the cycle will finally end. And as much as I hate to admit it, Dominic did right with raising his girls. There's no hate seeping through their veins. They're what’s right in this world.
The good.
The kind.
The honest.
The decent.
Their father’s evil hasn't spilled inside of them, not like Kane Shay's did to us.
“We’re just tryin’ to find our peace.”
Her head lifts slowly, sad eyes penetrating mine. “What are you planning?”
I hate the dejection in her tone. The disappointment. It eats away at me, acidic erosion crumbling my cracked conscious. But she holds my stare, demanding an answer, so I sigh. Loudly.
“Don’t concern yourself with that.”
She laughs. Sourly. “Don’t concern myself with the fact that you and your brother are harboring plans to avenge your mother? Is that a joke, Parker? You expect me to sit by and watch the two of you destroy your lives? Potentially the life of an innocent girl who looks at you with love in her eyes?”
“Not askin’ you, Mira. I’m tellin’ you. I have enough weighin’ on my conscience, your added guilt ain’t needed.”
“Then stop whatever you’re planning. Clear your conscience,” she pleads, her hands grabbing onto mine and squeezing tight.
“Not an option.”
“There is always an option. Always. I get that you feel cornered, that you think you owe it to your mom. Trust me, Parker. Trust me, I knew her better than anyone else. I know that whatever you and Rocco have created in your mind as a necessity would only break her heart.”
She would have been better to stab my heart with a perforated blade, rip into my lifeline and steal my life from my body. It would’ve been less painful. Her words were true, I knew that, was happy enough to have that kept within the chaos of my mind. But having Mira vocalize the deepest depths of my self-loathing, destroys me further. No matter which way I turn, I hurt the ones I love. She’s wrong, I don’t feel cornered. I am. Surrounded at every angle by my warring emotions. I’m caught in a trap there is no possibility of escaping. Imprisoned by my loyalty, torn open by my heart.
I can’t win. I guess I always knew that. I just never knew how brutal the fallout would be, how affected by the collateral damage I would become.
Nineteen
Codi
I knock again.
I wait. Again.
I check my watch. Seven-thirty.
I move my ear against the solidness of his front door, listening for something, anything. But nothing.
I rummage through my bag, searching for my cell. No missed calls. No texts. Just nothing.
Me waiting in the darkened hall of Parker’s building. I recall our conversation in my head. He told me tonight. I told him seven. He agreed with a quick, hard kiss on my lips before I walked away.
I call his cell. Again. But unsurprisingly, nothing. Voicemail. Not even a single ring.
I huff my annoyance, turning on my foot and moving away from his door in quick, hurried footsteps. I’m irritated. I’m hurt. I’m confused.
Is it so much to ask for a simple phone call? A single text telling me something had come up? That he had to cancel, instead of leaving me to stand at his unanswered door like a fool.
I don’t even let myself worry that something has happened to him. That something is wrong. The time I’ve spent with Parker has taught me that he forces distance when things get too much. As though his mood has a direct link to our connection. He gives too much, he reveals something about himself more than he cared to and he turns ultimate prick.
His aunt. It has to do with me meeting her. His lie about her slipping his mind, so ridiculous I almost laughed. He’s made a point of making it known that with the exception of Rocco, he has no family. I could pretend she was a pseudo-aunt, with no actual relation, a long-time family friend, but their eyes gave that away. Eerily similar in color. Genetically, they’re related. I have no doubt. So, he lied with his nonchalance and now he’s bailed on our plans without the courtesy of informing me.
Throwing my bag into my car, I drop into my seat, slamming my door in frustration. I hate this. The games. The unknown. I despise feeling insecure or unsure. More than that, I loathe that a man has the power to make me feel that way.
I drive home cursing Parker. I’m ready to tell him I love him and he pulls crap like this. He’s cut me. He’s made me second guess myself, because I could’ve sworn he felt the same way. But if you cared for someone, truly, in the way I do him, could you disregard someone’s feelings so easily?
Camryn glances up from the couch as I walk into our apartment.
“Thought you were seein’ Parker tonight?” She pauses her movie, turning back to me.
I shrug, dropping my bag without care and trudging to the couch to fall beside her. “He stood me up. Stood at his door knocking for like twenty minutes without an answer and his cell was turned off.”
Her eyebrows pull together, the dark hairs almost touching in her confusion. “He okay?”
I hug a cushion, rolling onto my back and placing my feet in her lap. “He’s fine. He’s in freak-out mode, I’m sure of it.”
Throwing the remote on our coffee table, she angles her body, arm draped across the back of our couch. “Care to elaborate?”
I pull the cushion onto my face, groaning into the soft material loudly. Moving, I stuff it behind my head, my hands moving into my hair pulling at the strands in frustration.
“I was gonna tell him I loved him tonight,” I confess. “And I was pretty confident he felt it back. But, I ran into him today, he was having lunch with his aunt.”
“Okay,” she drags out, her head shaking in her unspoken and…
“First, he told me h
e had no family. Told me numerous times.”
She shrugs, caught in her indecision as to whether she’d dwell on something so simple.
“Second,” I continue. “She was incredibly friendly until I told her my name, she couldn’t hide her shock, like somehow she knew me. It was weird and Parker changed the subject immediately.”
“Babe, our dad is our dad, people know him. Maybe she recognizes the name Rein.”
“Mm,” I grunt out. “Anyway, we made plans and then he was a no-show. Too coincidental. Every time I get remotely close to knowing a little bit more about him, he shuts down. Or turns into an ultimate jerk. I deserve more than being cast aside without a word.”
She nods her agreement, squeezing my ankle. “True. You should knee him in the junk again.”
I laugh, pulling the cushion from behind my head to throw it at her face.
“Okay, okay.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “A head-butt to the nose will suffice,” she laughs and I groan aloud.
“Codi, talk to him. Tell him it’s not cool, that it’s a deal breaker for you. Make him understand. You’re not happy with something, let him know. You deserve the best from him, not this shit.”
I nod, sighing heavily. “What’dya watching?” I glance to the TV.
“Reruns of Sons.”
“Mmm… Charlie. Nice.”
Reaching forward, she grabs the remote, turning her episode back on and I let my mind go numb, trying not to think about Parker and when he’ll decide to reach out again.