by J. L. Fynn
“A book,” she said, practically spitting the word back at me. “You did all this for a stupid book?”
“It’s not… I can’t really explain it, but it’s important to someone in my clan and they want it back.”
“Your clan!” I could tell by her expression I wasn’t helping my cause.
Judd laughed again. “I tried to explain it to her too, but I don’t think she’s as smart as you said, Buffer.”
The muscle in my jaw twitched as I bit down on my response. There were only so many battles I could fight at once. “I’m not a transfer student from Loyola. I’m not even really enrolled at Balanova. I’m from a Traveler clan in Louisiana, and I came up here to settle a score. That’s the whole story.”
“What does this have to do with my dad?”
Okay, maybe not the whole story. I looked at Tommy again, and this time he looked back. It was bad enough that Spencer had to find out everything about me; I wasn’t about to dump all of Tommy’s history on her too.
Once again, though, Judd decided to do the honors. “You mean you never told your little girl all about the trouble you caused, Saint Thomas? I’m surprised at you. You know what the Good Book says about liars.”
“Shut your mouth, Judd, or I’ll shut it for you,” I warned.
He moved the gun to me again. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Dad?”
I heard Tommy’s long sigh but couldn’t take my eyes off Judd’s gun to turn and look at him.
“Go ahead and tell her, Tommy,” Judd coaxed. I wanted to tear his lips from his face rather than look at his smile a second longer, but the gun in his hand kept me where I was. “I, for one, would be very interested to hear you try to explain this.”
“Before you were born, I was a member of the same Traveler clan. I was a conman, and I was good at it.” Tommy paused, and when he started again, you could tell how hard it was for him to spit out the rest of his story. “Twenty or so years ago, I was running a scam with another Traveler named Jim—his dad.” Tommy indicated me with his head. “I had a bad feeling about it from the start. Something was off about the mark. I tried to talk Jim out of it, but it was a bigger score than either of us had seen and he wanted it. Turns out I was right. When the mark realized what had happened, he went ballistic, came after us with a shotgun. Jim was killed, and I knew I had to get out. I couldn’t keep living the way I was.”
It felt like all the oxygen had left my body. Tommy hadn’t killed my da. He’d gotten himself killed for the sake of a big score. Just like Jimmy Boy had said. Now I was staring down the barrel of a gun because of my own goddamn ambition.
I finally tore my eyes away from the pistol to look at Spencer. The devastation on her face was much harder to take than the anger that had been there a moment before.
“Spencer,” I said, taking a step toward the bed despite the gun trained on me.
“Stay the hell away from me,” she said, scrambling back like a scared crab. “You’re a monster!”
The word hit me like a baseball bat to the face. I hung my head, deserving every word, but surprisingly, Tommy spoke up. “Spencer, he may have lied to you, but in the end, he chose you. I offered him this.” He held up the battered book that had caused all of our trouble. “But he chose you. He’s no monster.”
“This is just great.” She laughed bitterly. “You’ve been completely opposed to any guy I’ve liked since the fourth grade, and this is the one you finally decide to defend?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Judd’s angry question brought all of our attention back to him and his weapon. “You had the book in your hands and you chose that?” He waved the pistol in Spencer’s direction. “I should kill you now,” he said, pulling it back to me. I never thought I’d be so relieved to have a gun pointed in my face.
“All right. Enough,” Tommy said. He took a step forward, shouldering me out of the way so he could stand between Judd and I. “I’ll give you the damn book, and you’ll let her go, right?”
“You really think you’re in a position to negotiate?” Judd sneered at him.
“You want the book. I want my daughter safe. I don’t think I’ve been in an easier negotiation in my life.” The steadiness in Tommy’s voice was impressive.
“Fine,” Judd said.
Tommy tossed the ledger onto the bed in the same way Judd had tossed Spencer. It bounced once, then slid to a halt at her feet. “There. You’ve got it. Let her go.”
“You heard him, sweet tits. On your feet.” Judd beckoned to Spencer with the gun but kept it pointed at Tommy this time.
Spencer didn’t move for a long time. She looked from Judd, to the book, to me. I pleaded with her silently to get up and come to me so I could get her out of that room. Mercifully, she slid from the bed and took several shaky steps toward my arms, which had lifted instinctively to reach for her.
“Oh, but there’s just one more thing,” Judd said, as if it had only now occurred to him. “See, Pop knew that Buffer here would be too much of a chickenshit to finish the job, which is why he sent me.”
“And now it’s finished,” I said. “You’ve got the ledger.”
“Right, but that’s not the end of the game.” Judd lifted the gun and pointed it straight at Tommy’s heart. “This is.”
It only took one glance between Spencer and I to work out what we’d both do. In the same instant that Judd squeezed the trigger, she grabbed his forearm and yanked it hard, and I threw myself into Tommy, sending us both crashing into the wall. The shot was deafening. Heat exploded through my upper arm before it went numb and a red stain started to creep across the fabric of my torn sleeve. Spencer clamped her teeth onto Judd’s wrist, and he shrieked. The gun flew from his hand and tumbled under the bed. He shoved Spencer back, then dived for the ledger, rolled onto the floor, and got back to his feet in one motion.
“This isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.” He ran for the door and swung it open. It slammed into my side, blocking any attempt I could make to grab him before he disappeared. I heard his car engine roar to life and the tires of the Mercedes squeal as he tore away from the motel.
“Someone will have heard that,” Spencer said, already back on her feet. She and Tommy both helped me to mine, though I barely registered what was happening. “We should go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“SO EXPLAIN THIS again. You two are…what? Some kind of gypsies?” Spencer asked.
I sat at the old table in Tommy’s kitchen, my bloody shirt balled in my lap. “Not—”
“Travelers,” Tommy said. He sat at one of the island’s white stools. “They…” He paused. “We call ourselves Travelers. People call us Irish gypsies but rarely in a kind way.”
“Sorry,” Spencer mumbled into the first aid kit she’d opened on the table between us.
“I think we have bigger things to worry about than ethnic insensitivity,” I said over her head. “Whatever protection you had from Pop is now gone along with Judd and the ledger.”
“I don’t think I’m the only one he was here to kill. Lucky for both of us I was smart enough to make copies.”
“That’s good for us, but since Pop doesn’t know about them, I need to get a hold of Jimmy and tell him what happened. Hopefully, he’ll be able to get Maggie somewhere safe.”
“I’ll call Maggie.” Tommy slid from the stool. “To let her know you’re safe and she and Jimmy aren’t. I’ll make arrangements for them to get up here, and we can figure out where to go from there.”
“I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear from you,” I said, looking him straight in the eye.
“And what makes you say that?”
“Your safe combination. 1031. It’s her birthday.”
Tommy gave me a long look, then nodded once.
“That’s a story I wouldn’t mind hearing sometime,” I said.
“It’s only partly my story to tell,” he said. “Maggie and I were close. I was close with both your parents, but she and
I met when she first came over from Ireland. Your grandparents had already promised her to Jim though. I never really had a shot. When your dad was killed, I begged her to leave with me, but your brother was just a toddler and she was pretty far along with you. She just couldn’t imagine the kind of life you boys would have on the run.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” Spencer said, though she didn’t look at him.
Tommy winced. “Spence, I know you don’t want to hear it now, but I did what I had to keep you safe. Please understand that.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to hear it.” She ripped open a package of antibiotic ointment, her back still stubbornly turned on her father.
“So you took off and left her behind with two kids and no one to provide for her,” I said, still trying to piece together my own story.
“I wasn’t going to leave without her, but Maggie wouldn’t let me stay. She knew there’d be trouble after what happened to your dad. She told me about the ledger Michael kept, that it would give me a little cover in case he came after me.”
“It was her idea to take the book?” I couldn’t believe it. Why hadn’t she told me about all this before I left?
“It was. I wouldn’t even have known about it if she hadn’t told me.” Tommy pushed a hand through his hair. “You don’t know how many times I thought about going back for her, but I’m not sure she ever really forgave me for what happened.”
“She’s forgiven you,” I said after considering it for a second. “She didn’t want me to come up here. Tried to talk Pop out of sending anyone after you.”
Tommy almost smiled then. “Anyway, I’ll go make the call.”
I nodded my thanks. He paused in the kitchen doorway for a second and watched his daughter smooth a glob of antibiotic ointment over the gash in my arm. A pained expression twisted his features, but they soon fell into lines of resignation. He left Spencer and I alone without renewing his pleas for her forgiveness.
I closed my eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh through my nose. I concentrated on the feeling of her cool fingers moving across my skin. When she finally broke the silence, the sound of her voice made me jump.
“You and my dad were the most important people in my life, and I didn’t know either one of you.” It was a statement of fact, without any trace of the sadness I would have expected to hear.
“I know, Spence.” I opened my eyes again to watch her, though she refused to look at me just as stubbornly as she had Tommy. “But your dad really did think he was protecting you. As far as I can tell, the only thing he’s been worried about since you were born was keeping you from getting mixed up in all this.”
“Yeah, well, it didn’t work out so well, did it?” She slapped a piece of gauze over my wound, sending a sharp current of pain down my arm and up through my shoulder. I sucked air between my teeth but didn’t even think about asking her to be gentler.
“I’m sorry, Spencer. I could say it a thousand more times and it wouldn’t make up for what I’ve done, but it’s the truth. I know you’ll probably never forgive me, but—”
“Probably not.”
The corner of my mouth lifted in spite of my throbbing arm or the raw guilt I felt. “Always straight to the point, huh?”
“I couldn’t get anyone on the phone.” Tommy came back into the kitchen, a cell phone pressed to his ear. “I’ve called three times, but it just rings. Is this the right number?” He crossed the kitchen and handed a scrap of paper to me. The number for the trailer’s landline was scrawled across it, and I wondered vaguely how Tommy had it and if he’d ever used it before today.
But for now I was too concerned with getting ahold of Maggie or Jimmy Boy to ask. “Let me try my brother.” I pulled the cell phone from my pocket and dialed the number for the emergency phone he’d promised to keep on him at all times. It rang once, twice, three times. Nothing. After the fifth ring, a prerecorded voice told me the caller I was trying to reach was unavailable. I hung up and tried the number again. When I got the same message, I set the phone down and looked at Tommy.
“Something’s not right. Jimmy would’ve answered the phone if he could, and Maggie’s never far from the trailer. There’s no good reason we can’t get ahold of them.”
Tommy grunted. “Then I’m guessing there’s a pretty bad reason why not.”
“This has to have something to do with Judd,” I said. I was starting to panic, but I had to keep my head straight if I was going to figure out what to do next. “I have to go back to help them.”
“And what do you think that’ll accomplish? You just strolling back into the Village on your own.”
“I’ll figure something out on the way, but I’m not just going to sit here and do nothing,” I said, getting to my feet. Spencer stared up at me, still in her chair at the table.
“I’m not suggesting you do nothing, but you can’t go alone either. I’ll have to come with you. We can get there faster in my car than you can on a bus anyway.”
I blinked at him. Why would he agree to go back to the Village, especially now that there was nothing to keep Pop from finishing the job he’d sent Judd up here to do?
“It’s my family. You may have been close with Maggie twenty years ago, but that’s a pretty tenuous reason to get yourself killed now.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t understand yet, but we don’t have time to waste explaining them. Anyway, the Village is probably the safest place for me right now. Michael may be bold enough to send his son here to kill me, but he’s not going to risk exposing the whole clan by having me murdered on his doorstep. Keep the dirt far away from home. Rule number one.”
He had a point. No matter how angry Pop was with Tommy, he was still a reasonable man, and he wasn’t going to risk everything he had in the name of revenge. At least, not unless it was hundreds of miles from home.
“Fine then. We’ll go together. When can you be ready to go?”
“I’m ready now,” he said.
“Give me ten minutes,” Spencer said, pushing back her chair and closing the lid on the first aid kit. “I just need to grab a few things.”
Tommy and I both stared at her. “Spence, you can’t come,” I said.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re staying here,” Tommy said.
Spencer’s gaze swiveled from me to him and back. “If you two think I’m going to sit at home and wait to find out whether you’re alive or dead, then you’re crazy.”
“It’s not safe,” I said, trying to make her understand. “I love you too much to put you in danger again. You’ve been through enough.”
“Exactly! I’ve already been kidnapped and held at gunpoint. I even had the pleasure of bandaging my boyfriend’s gunshot wound. And you think I’m better off staying here alone?”
The corner of my mouth turned up. “Boyfriend?”
“That’s what you got from that?” She tried to sound annoyed, but there was a slight twitch in her lips, too.
“I think she’s right, Tommy,” I said, but my eyes never left hers. “She’s safer with us, and more than that, she deserves to go. This involves her just as much as it does either one of us.”
Tommy growled in frustration and shoved a hand through his hair again. “Shay, this isn’t—”
“What did you call him?” Spencer narrowed her eyes at her father.
I winced, though this time it had nothing to do with my arm. Funny how the first lie I told her would be the last I’d come clean about. “He called me Shay.”
The narrowed eyes turned on me. “What?”
“My name isn’t Shane Casey.” I fought the urge to drop my head in a display of the shame I felt. “It’s Shay. Reilly.”
Tommy cleared his throat. “I’ll give you two a minute, but if we’re going, we need to go soon.” He left us alone in the kitchen for a second time, but neither of us noticed much.
“Shay Reilly,” she repeated after he’d gone. She stared at me for a long moment, her expression u
nreadable. “I’m Spencer Costello,” she said, offering her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I took her hand in mine and couldn’t stop myself from pulling her into my arms and crushing her against my chest. I kissed her, not caring if she’d pull away or punch me or jam her knee into my groin. It was worth the risk. And it was a hundred times more worth it when she kissed me back, even if hesitantly.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I said against her mouth.
Spencer leaned back to look me in the eye. “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven, you know.”
“I know.”
“I mean, you saved my life and my dad’s, and that’s not nothing. But really, I don’t even know who you are.”
“I know,” I said again and kissed the tip of her nose. “But we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other on the way to Louisiana.”
Acknowledgements
We couldn’t have finished this book without the love and support of our families, so the first very big thank you goes to Max Ernst, Darleen Zimmerman, David Pincus, Cecile Bruhn, and Steve, James, Rhys, Alisha, and Violet Bruhn. We love you all so much!
For being with us from the very beginning (and offering some very helpful feedback on an earlier draft) we’d like to thank Kristyn DiDominick, Angelo Boccia Cedeño, and Dustin Moore. Thanks to Adam Bricker for inspiring one of the first lines ever written in The Long Game, and for always being a character in his own right. For always being supportive of our writing and just being inspirational, strong women, thanks to Amie Knauer, Meghan Saweikis, and Fiona Shirk. For being super supportive while also offering that little kick in the ass a writer sometimes needs to stay focused (and for making the “day job” just as much fun as time off), thanks to Amy Yoder McGloughlin and Michael Brix.
We absolutely have to thank Agent Pooja Menon of Kimberley Cameron and Associates who gave us so much encouragement, advice, and support along the way, all while being one of the coolest agents in the business. To Kristen and Jolene at Pen & Muses, the friendliest and most helpful publicists we could have asked for, and Rebecca A. Weston, the most thorough copy editor. To all the wonderful, talented, amazing, and hilarious ladies in the WrAHM society--we never would have been able to do this without you. Finding this group has been nothing short of miraculous for us. Thank you to Laurelin Page, Melanie Harlow, Emma Hart, Robin Lucas, Delancey Stewart, and Elizabeth Otto in particular, for going above and beyond in the help and encouragement department and playing a huge role in bringing this book to life. And an extra big thank you to Leigh Ann who had the courage to lead the way and whose talent, intelligence, and hard-work inspired us to make a go at it ourselves. Thanks to New Adult Authors Unite, and the lovely ladies who run it, our Pen Monkeys, and Dawn Pendleton for starting a great fall promo group. To Team Fynn, our biggest, loudest, and best cheerleaders—we love you guys! Thanks to everyone who follows us on Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr for all their support. A special thanks to Macklemore and Ryan Lewis for producing the soundtrack to our journey. We’re happy to be I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T chasing dreams.