by Leah Holt
“No, you're lying.” Waving my hand, I cupped my jaw and swallowed hard. “Nicholi said no one could find my parents, he said that no one was looking for me.” My voice wavered, tumbling out in broken cries and lost breaths. Shoving the picture back at the detective, I looked into his eyes. “He said you gave up.”
The detective threw his hand out, capturing mine and squeezing it firmly. “We never gave up. We did everything we could to find you. Nicholi lied to you.”
“I don't believe this, it doesn't make sense.” Shaking my head, I sniffled, yanking my hand free. “I woke up in the woods, Birch found me there. Nick and Birch saved me, they helped me and gave me a place to live. Why would they lie about that?”
“I don't know the answer to that, but I promise you, we're going to figure it out. For now, you can't go back there. We need more answers, we need more information so we can take this asshole down. We need to protect you.”
Protect me? Did he really just say that?
Protect me from the only family I know?
Protect me from the people that have loved me?
“How do you know he did this? What proof do you have that he took me? I remember waking up to him picking me up off the ground. What if it was someone else that placed me in those woods?”
“Cyprus, I'm sure this hard for you to take in, but that diary was in his house. We found it during our search, that wasn't a coincidence. What you wrote in there, that tells the story.” Tapping the side of his head with a single finger, his brows arched high. “What you remember, that wasn't reality. I believe that little girl, I don't believe what he put into your head. But all we have is that book, we don't have anything else to go on just yet. You really don't remember anything?”
Taking deep breaths, I covered my face with my hands and wept. My shoulders shook uncontrollably, my lungs begged for air they couldn't find. Nothing was what I thought it was.
Everything was a lie.
“We'll help you through this.” Detective Jones scooted closer, and rubbed a hand over my back. “But you can't go back there. We need to figure out what happened, we need to find out how deep in this Nicholi is. Tell me you understand that, Cyprus.”
Sniffling, I kept my face buried and nodded. “I understand you're trying to steal my world. I've already been through that once, I can't do it again.”
“You deserve the truth. Don't you think you deserve better than this?”
My world was spinning out of control. Everything I thought I knew wasn't true.
How was I supposed to feel about the idea that my family might have done this to me?
The little girl in that book was so shattered, she had lost all hope and was left to mend her own broken pieces.
But that little girl wasn't just anyone. . .
That little girl was me.
“Where are they? Where are my parents? Are they really gone like the diary said?”
Nodding, Jones tapped the table with his knuckles, unable to look me in the eyes. “When you're ready to know the truth, I'll tell you. But let's take this one step at a time. I have a safe place all set up for you, you'll go there for now.”
Cocking my head, my brows knitted. “What? No, I can't do that. I need to go back, I need to hear it from them—”
“No,” he snapped, crushing my request with his harsh tone. “You can't go back there. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever. It's not safe for you.”
Not safe? How?
Does he hear himself?
I was tempted to laugh in his face. The guy was trying to protect me from the people who had been caring for me. He was worried for my safety. . . Seriously?
Did he really think that the love of my life was suddenly going to change after all these years and strangle me to death?
Was he really that caught up in the mob dynamic that he thought we were all disposable and held no value?
I never felt like I was in danger. Nick had done far too much for me to just wipe me off the face of the earth. And I had done the same for him, I had been there through it all. Through the death of his wife, through business deals and even a triple homicide. He wouldn't hurt me, he loved me.
Right?
He did love me like a daughter. . . Or is that a lie too?
No, he loves me. And so does Birch. But I need answers, I deserve answers.
“Detective Jones, I appreciate the offer, but I'm not going to just run away from them. I deserve answers, and if you don't have any to give. . .” Pausing, I crooked my jaw and hardened my stare. “I'll get them myself.”
Bouncing his hands in the air, his lids opened wide as his lips frowned. I could tell he was annoyed and frustrated that I was going against his idealistic plan for my 'safety.' “Let me do my job, I know these people, I know this family—”
Cutting him off, I snapped. “Are you screwing with me? You know this family? I'm not trying to fuck with your manhood, but I know this family. You know what you want to see, I know them for who they really are.”
He wanted to peg them as the enemy. But it wasn't until right then that all of that was exposed. I had to decide for myself what was real and what was fake. I deserved an explanation, I deserved to know the truth.
Their truth, not the detective's.
I wasn't going to just run away from it. I couldn't. I wanted to hear it from Birch's own mouth. I had to know exactly what happened and why. Those were answers I didn't want to get from some report or testimony on the stand. I wanted to hear it from his lips. I wanted Birch to look me in the eyes and tell me himself.
That was what I deserved.
I was going back to them. Maybe it was a stupid decision to run into the arms of the criminal that had been the spark to the fire that burned my world down.
But I couldn't forget what they had done for me. I couldn't just erase the life they had given me. They had given me birthdays and Christmases, we had Sunday dinners and beach days in the summer. We camped in the backyard and swam in the lake, we laughed at jokes and played stupid board games.
We were normal on some level, with love and kindness. That was what the detective didn't see, that was what he didn't know. He was already blinded by their dark side, he was never going to be able to see what I had.
“Are you going to fight me tooth and nail on this?”
“I'm going to do the right thing, I'm going home. You have questions, I have questions, but we can't get answers if I'm sent someplace else.”
“Fio—” Pointing my finger, I stopped him from saying that name. Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. “Cyprus, please, let us do our job.”
“I'm not stopping you from doing your job, I'm stopping you from fucking up my life even more than it already is. The diary was enough, I have some shit to think about, some shit to run through my head.” Standing up, I pressed my palms down and loomed over the detective. “So if I'm not under arrest, I'd like to just go home. If you have some court ordered authority to lock me up, then do it. Otherwise, I'm done for today.”
He could try and talk me out of it all he wanted to, but I wasn't going to be swayed.
It took them eight years to finally find me, I wasn't going to let it take eight more before I got answers.
“I want my diary.”
“That's evidence.”
“That's mine. I want it back, I deserve that much from you.”
Pursing his lips, he rocked his jaw. “Give me a few minutes, let me see what I can do.” Leaving the room, he returned about fifteen minutes later. Holding out the diary, I gripped the trim, but he didn't release it right away. “Maybe this will help you get your memory back, I really hope it does. The sooner you see those men for who they really are, the sooner you can start healing.”
“Yeah, healing, that's what I need to focus on.” Drawing my brows up, I plucked the diary free and stood up. “Where were you all those years ago? Where were you when it actually counted?”
“Cyprus—”
“I'm all grown up now, De
tective, that little girl is gone.”
Turning my back, I walked out the door.
My skin was thick, my soul was full.
The girl in the diary hadn't existed in years. The only thing I cared about was finding out what really happened to her.
I owed her that much.
Chapter Nine
Birch
How much longer are they going to keep her?
Pacing in front of my car, I couldn't stop glancing up at the police station. I watched the blue suits come and go, all of them wearing some sort of smug grin that I wanted to knock off their fucking jaws.
I hated this place. I hated everything about this fucking place. I had been dragged in here one too many times, only to be treated like an asshole that refused to open for a dick. They would threaten me with time behind bars, they would dangle my freedom over my head in return for information on my father and a clean pass out the other end.
As much as I didn't agree with my dad all the time, he was still my father. I wouldn't throw him to the wolves. That wasn't how I was raised.
“Birch, stop worrying, she's fine.”
“Fine? Fine? They let us go over an hour ago, but they still have her. Why?”
My father shrugged his shoulder, as if this entire thing was nothing and we were just waiting for our takeout order to be ready. “Trust me, she'll be out soon. They don't have shit, they can't keep her. Fuck, I hope they didn't ruin the house too much. I really hate cleaning up after a raid. We still have that cleaning lady's number right? Helen was it?”
How can he act so casual about this? Doesn't he see the danger here?
Even if he did, he wouldn't say it. That wasn't who he was. He was the man who always kept a level head. He didn't overreact, he never lost his temper unless he was pushed. And I had only seen him truly lose it a handful of times.
“I don't like this, I don't like this at all.” Clenching my hands into fists, I couldn't sit still. I had to move, I had to do something. Every second that Cyprus was still in that building, the more and more unhinged I felt. “I'm about to go in there and get her myself.”
Groaning, my father shifted in his seat and leaned his head out the window. “Get in and shut up. You aren't doing anything, especially going in there to make a scene. Let's go, in.” Jerking his head towards the driver's seat, I could feel the annoyance in his voice.
Ignoring his demand, I growled under my breath, unable to take my eyes off the building. “What if they're—”
“They're not. Get the fuck in the car, Birch.” His voice was sharp and stern, balancing between the father he was and the boss he needed to be.
Stepping to the driver's side, I looked up at the entrance before tugging the handle. Dropping into the front seat, I slammed the door shut frustrated and worried.
This was not what I wanted and it was the last thing my father or I needed. Cyprus shouldn't be there, she shouldn't be anywhere near this fucking place. I knew that and so did my father.
In the past we always had a heads up before a raid, and my father would send Cyprus out for a bit so she wasn't anywhere around for them to see her. I didn't know what went wrong this time. Our inside snitch, Miguel, he never called us to let us know they were coming.
I'm going to have to talk to him later, find out what the hell happened.
“Better? Does this help?”
“Yes, and you don't have to be a little prick about it.” Flipping his sunglasses down his forehead, he twisted his neck in my direction. “We both know how this goes, Birch.”
“Did they ask you about the Mangoletti's?”
“Yeah, the fuckers said they had reason to believe we're behind their disappearance.” Chuckling, my dad shook his head side to side. “I guess someone said they knew we had a meeting set up, and that we were the last ones to be with them. But the cop wouldn't tell me who ran their mouth. Not that it matters, I'll find out who it was.” His jaw clicked as he clenched his teeth and his mind wandered to all the different ways he could punish the rat.
They had said the same thing to me, trying to intimidate me into telling them everything. I refused, asking for my lawyer and sealing my lips shut. They didn't have anything to hold us on. There was no evidence in our house or the bar to prove we had ever been face to face with that family.
We weren't fucking stupid, that shit had been long destroyed. Lit on fire and turned to ash, it was like it never happened. No bodies had been recovered, no DNA or fingerprints would surface saying that we were linked to the missing father and sons.
The police had suspicions, but as evidence goes, they had shit. Hearsay was enough to give them probable cause to raid our home and arrest us, but without anything other than a snitch and his statement, we were freed.
So why do they still have Cyprus?
“You can't tell me that you're not even a little bit worried about this?” I couldn't hold back the strain in my voice or the fear I felt inside about Cyprus being in the hands of the police. “Why didn't Miguel call us? Why would they have her longer than us? She's not supposed to be here.”
This had been my fear, the only fear I had ever really had. I was afraid that if they found her, they'd take her, and I'd never get to see her again. I couldn't stand the thought of that. The mere idea that she could be stripped from my grasp hurt, it smashed my ice cold heart into tiny bits.
“Obviously he didn't know, Birch. Maybe their onto him, I don't know.” Rolling his eyes, he dropped his gaze into his lap. “But she's a smart girl, she'll probably do better in there than the both of us.” Taking out his wallet, my father flipped through the photos he had in the center slots. “At least this time they didn't take my pictures. I never did get back the one of you and Cyprus at the beach. You remember that day? When you guys were making that sandcastle and it collapsed right when your mother took the picture?”
“Yeah, I remember.” Smiling as I thought about that moment, my lids hovered in the memory, picturing Cyprus's smile and sun-kissed skin. God she had always been so damn beautiful. I could remember the way her hair smelled like salt and how her skin felt gritty like sandpaper. “Shit, I was what. . . fifteen, sixteen?”Arching a brow, I watched him from the corner of my eye. “How do you know they took it?”
“They took it, who knows why they did it, but they did.” Tipping his head up, he hummed as he thought. “It was back when they tried to slam me for the whole illegal container bit at the freight yard. Remember that?” Rolling his hand as he spoke, I recalled the incident he was referring to and nodded. “I've asked every time they dragged my ass back here and they pretend like they don't know what the hell I'm talking about.”
Why the hell would they take that picture? What could they possibly use it for?
What if. . . What if they. . .
My lids opened wide as I watched my father flip through his wallet. He couldn't see it, he was oblivious and too drunk on his own power to let himself see what could be happening.
“That doesn't make you think at all about what's going on?” Drifting my gaze back to the front doors, I painstakingly searched through the people going in and out. “Maybe they kept that picture for a reason.”
“Birch, this has to stop. You can't keep being so damn paranoid about it. It's been years, it's long forgotten. Trust me on that.”
I wanted to believe him, I've always wanted to believe him. But I could never shake the idea that one day our pedestal would crumble and everything would fall apart. Eventually shit would catch up to us. . . to him. We couldn't hide her forever.
But he didn't see it that way. There was no point in me trying to convince him otherwise. I didn't push it, I shifted the conversation to what really mattered right then. Where the hell was Cyprus?
“How long do we wait then? At what point are we going to do something about this?”
“If she doesn't come out, we go home.”
“What? Fuck that, I'm not just going home.”
“Birch, we'll go home, and we'll wai
t there. Either she'll call us when she's done, or she'll get dropped off. What's wrong with you?” Angling his head, he slid his glasses down the bridge of his nose, eyes scanning my face.
“You're really not worried? Not at all?”
His brows dipped angrily, as thick lines creased his forehead, and his mouth turned paper thin. “Birch, if I had a reason to worry, we'd already be long gone. Don't doubt her for a second, you can't. And don't doubt me, not with this.”
“I don't doubt her or you, but I don't trust them.”
“Fuck, when are you going to realize that they're not looking for her anymore? They haven't been looking for years now. No one gives a shit, they never did.” Tucking his wallet back into his pocket, he grabbed his bottle of water from the holder and took a long sip. “They're fishing, that's all this is. They want us, they want to lock us away. And they think they can use her to do it.”
“Fishing? They broke down our door, they ripped us out of the house, I think they're doing more than just fishing.” Running my palms up and down my thighs, I let out an audible breath. “Fuck, I hate this shit.”
“Look, look there.” Holding out his hand, a smug grin filled his face. “See, she's right there. What did I tell you?”
Following his finger, Cyprus was walking down the front steps. She was wearing a white jumpsuit, her eyes set on her feet as she made her way towards the parking lot. She looked so sad and upset, with her skin dull and chalky, her eyes swollen and dark.
Was she crying?
Did they make her cry?
Anger bubbled beneath the surface, my rage percolating in my veins with every thump of my heart. The cops were ruthless, they'd do and say anything to try and make you break. Cyprus looked broken, and I was ready to hunt down the bastard that hurt her and fucking kill him.
Jumping out of the car, I jogged across the parking lot. “Hey,” I said, slowing down once I reached her side. “What the hell happened? What's wrong? What did they say to you?”
Flicking her eyes up, she darted them away. “They really pressed me in there, the detective was a dick.” Shrugging her shoulder, she smiled. But it came across as forced, not genuine in any sense. “I didn't give him what he wanted, so don't worry.”