Man Law

by Adrienne Giordano

  He clicked off. Lily’s warm breath hit his arm and he rested his head back. The weight of the grief settled on him. His body had gone numb, but the ache burrowed deep in his bones, snickering at him, letting him know the numbness would wear off. And then what? He’d have to deal with it. That was all. Just deal with it. Sweep it into a pile. Think of other things. He stared out the window. He’d have to tell his aunt about Tiny, something he’d always hoped he’d never have to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Man Law: Always avoid the “talk to me” trap.

  “Lily,” Gina squealed when Vic walked through the front door with her baby in his arms.

  Euphoria zipped through her as Lily bolted up, swiveled her head and spotted her.

  “Mommy,” she yelled and reached for her.

  The scent of strawberry shampoo lingered, and Gina inhaled. Not a dream.

  Sparing a glimpse toward the couch, she moved to it.

  “I think she’s in shock,” Vic said to Michael, standing by the steps. “Get the doc to take a look at her. She’s not hurt. She did great. She got scared when I kicked in the door.”

  “Hey, Lil,” Michael said, claiming the spot next to Gina.

  Lily gazed up at him and scooted onto his lap. She wanted love from everyone and she’d get it.

  An audible breath came from Vic, and Gina peered up at him. He wore navy cargo pants, a matching T-shirt and battered boots. She’d never seen him dressed this way. Battle clothes? She didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. That was part of his other life.

  The one that had crashed into hers.

  He cleared his throat, and his sad eyes left her wondering what bothered him.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  Michael stared at him from his spot on the couch. A silent message drifted between them, and the air became stagnant. Something went wrong.

  “Mike, call the cops, make sure they know she’s home. Tell them she wandered off and fell asleep under a tree. I don’t know, make something up.” He started for the door. “I’ll talk to you both later.”

  Gina smiled at Lily, safe and dozing in Michael’s arms. “I’ll be right back.” She headed after Vic. He reached the porch by the time she’d caught up with him.

  She grabbed Vic’s hand. “What happened?”

  He focused on their joined hands a minute, his expression still sullen. “Lily’s home. Enjoy her. I’ll talk to you later.”

  What kind of answer was that? And why wouldn’t he look at her?

  “Tell me why you’re upset.”

  He sighed. “I need you to leave me alone. Please.”

  An edge of annoyance slipped through her, but she tamped it down. “Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

  He narrowed his eyes—at least she had his attention—and took a step closer. She sensed the contained fury and threw her shoulders back.

  “Why can’t you leave me be?” he asked in that quiet voice she’d termed the mad voice. “You always want me to talk when what I really need is to not talk.”

  “I don’t understand. You got her home safe. You should be happy and I want you to tell me why you’re not.”

  He grunted and waved toward the SUV idling in front of the house. “I have to go.”

  When he stepped off the porch something snapped in her. She’d had it. All this secrecy had to stop. She wanted some damned answers. “Why? What’s so important that you have to leave now?”

  He halted, stood for a minute, then slowly turned. Even in the dark, the rage in his eyes flashed. “My cousin is dead. His head is being held together with Monk’s do-rag and you want to know where I’m going? I’m going to get him cleaned up so his mother doesn’t have to see him this way.”

  He spun around, headed for the truck. “Happy now?”

  The words sunk in. Tiny. Dead. No. She clamped her eyes closed. The misery exploded inside her and crawled up inch by inch. She swallowed back the sob moving into her throat.

  Stop him.

  She opened her eyes just as Vic got to the curb. “Wait. Please.”

  “Get off my back.” He jumped into the passenger’s seat of the truck.

  She should leave him alone. Like he asked. She couldn’t, though. She understood grief and he’d need her.

  By the time she’d gotten off the porch, the truck pulled away. She should get back to her daughter. Lily needed her, but the sadness pushed her to the step. Maybe she could sit for a minute and get her emotions under control. She put her head in her hands, closed her eyes against the tears. To hell with it. She let them fall.

  For Tiny.

  Gina dragged her eyes open and stared at the back of Lily’s curl-snarled head. They had both fallen asleep in her single bed, and Gina’s side throbbed from balancing on the edge of the mattress.

  A shred of moonlight slanted through the blinds and shone on the strawberry wallpaper Lily loved so much. Gina smiled a sad smile. Life wouldn’t be so simple anymore.

  Again.

  How much could one child take? First losing her father and now this? Unbelievable.

  After a minute of absorbing the silence within the room, Gina heard Lily’s soft, easy breaths. A good sign, but nightmares would come. She’d have to find a way to keep her baby from suffering their wrath. And wouldn’t that discovery make millions of moms worldwide happy?

  She slid her arm from under Lily’s tiny body and waited. No movement. In one quick motion she angled off the bed and glanced at the clock. Two-thirty. Late. She’d only slept a few hours, but the rumbling in her stomach brought her awake. When had she eaten last?

  She needed to eat, if for no other reason than to keep her strength up. For the kids. They didn’t deserve a crabby mom.

  Shuffling through the dark, she left the door open and made her way down the creaking steps into the lit living room. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement from the sofa.

  Her heart slamming against her rib cage, she gasped but focused on the man in her house.

  Michael.

  “You scared the hell out of me.”

  The sudden blood rush created a dizzy spell and she grabbed on to the armchair and sat down.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his palms against sleepy eyes. “I fell asleep. When I heard the stairs creak I jumped up. You scared the shit of me too.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “Why are you still here? Go home. Roxann shouldn’t have to sit with the boys alone.”

  “She’s not alone. I sent a couple of the guys over there. Besides, she told me to stay with you. And, for the record, I’m more afraid of her than I am you.”

  Gina snorted.

  “How’s Lily?”

  “She fell asleep. I don’t know for how long, but I woke up hungry. I need to eat something. If nothing else, at least I’ll keep my strength up.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Suddenly she didn’t know. At first, she really did believe she needed fuel to keep her body moving, but maybe it was more than that.

  “Maybe it means that I’ve been utterly helpless these past few weeks.”

  “Oh, please,” Michael said.

  She began pacing. “No. It’s true. My brother and my supposed boyfriend are involved with criminals. My daughter was kidnapped and held in a warehouse full of weapons and explosives. She’s been traumatized by shooting all around her, not to mention Tiny, a man she adored—a man I adored—is dead.”

  He shook his head. Leaned back on the sofa.

  “It’s like Danny all over again,” she said. “Those hours of waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting and praying for someone to tell me they found my husband alive. That same panic bubbling through my body. Maybe it’s the anticipation of more bad news that may or may not come.”

  Before she’d let herself fall in love with Vic, she didn’t have this feeling. This angst. And now she had a look into her future. Him on his little trips, gone for undetermined amounts of time. Her wondering where he was. All th
is frustration and worrying and bargaining with herself would be her life. And could she spend the rest of her days in this state?

  Absolutely not.

  “I’m sorry,” Michael said.

  And didn’t that just work her last nerve? He was sorry. Weren’t they all?

  “I don’t want to hear you’re sorry. Or Vic’s sorry. I’m sick of sorry. I want my life back. I’ve worked hard to give my kids a stable environment. Really hard, and I’m pissed off that it was taken from me. Just because Vic likes to live on the edge, doesn’t mean I deserve the repercussions.”

  “I—”

  She spun around, pointed at him. “And don’t you freaking dare tell me you warned me about this.” She stopped, felt the burst of hysteria crawl up her throat and threw her hands over her face.

  The racking sobs came, making her chest want to burst, but she stood there, taking the punishment, letting herself fall apart.

  How did she let her family get involved in this mess? She’d failed as a parent. All to make herself happy. So she could feel that rush of excitement that had been gone for so long. She’d risked her children’s safety for great sex?

  Heaven help her.

  She flinched when Michael put his arms around her. Déjà vu. How many times had he talked her off a ledge?

  “It’s just the stress,” he whispered. “Let it out and then we’ll get you something to eat. We’ll fix this. I wasn’t going to say I told you so. I really wasn’t.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his waist, just needing something to hold on to.

  “It’s all right.”

  They stood a minute in the quiet of the house, and all she wished for was the silence to remain. She needed a break.

  With one last deep breath she took a step back.

  She would have to find a way to privately grieve for Tiny, a man who gave his life to save Lily’s. What a tragic sacrifice. She’d never, ever get over this loss.

  And then there would be Vic.

  What to do about that situation?

  He had his own agenda right now, and where she and the kids fit in, she had no idea.

  Maybe they didn’t fit in at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Man Law: Always hide the pain.

  Sunny summer days and blue skies were meant for sailing and baseball. Hot dogs and watermelon.

  Not funerals.

  The Louisiana humidity hung thick and Vic’s shirt stuck to him, confined him. He’d long since taken off his suit jacket but experienced little relief from the stifling heat. He leaned against a tree in the cemetery where Tiny’s body would soon be lowered into the ground. Mourners stepped to the casket, one by one, tossing blood-red roses as a final farewell.

  Vic had already tossed his flower and walked his aunt and uncle to the car. Somehow, he wound up leaning against this fucking tree in this fucking place where he didn’t want to be. Saying goodbye to a man he didn’t want to say goodbye to.

  He drove his heel into the ground, steadied himself against the wave of emotion that had been threatening all morning. Goddammit.

  “Hi,” Gina said, coming to stand beside him.

  She and Mike had flown in this morning for the funeral and would be heading back to Chicago tonight. The kids were with Roxann, all of them under guard.

  Think about something else. Gina, so pretty in her navy blue dress, but her puffy, tired eyes told of the sadness. As much as he’d missed her these past few days, she distracted him, made him feel things he didn’t want to feel, and he wished she had stayed home. The turmoil felt too real, too willing to swallow him whole, and he’d taken care to check his emotions.

  He slid his hand under her hair, rested it on the back of her neck. Skin to skin. “Hi.”

  She smiled but stayed quiet. Thank you. Talking he did not need. She stepped closer, shifted into him, and he kissed the top of her head. A warm wind blew and he breathed in.

  “Thanks for being here.”

  She nodded, her gaze on the casket. “They’re almost done.”

  A slender woman with dark blond hair and a short black dress moved to the casket. She looked familiar, but from the back…Oh, shit. His body morphed to steel.

  Nuh-uh. Not today.

  “She must be joking,” he said.

  “What?”

  “My mother is here.” He inclined his head. “That’s her. The black dress. Her hair is darker now and I almost didn’t recognize her.”

  Gina swiveled her head so fast it should have spun off her shoulders. He almost laughed.

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

  “Five short years.”

  “Oh boy.” Gina jumped in front of him, grabbed his chin and forced him to focus on her. “She’s coming over here. This is Tiny’s funeral and you need to behave.”

  He nodded once. Cripes. He knew how to act at funerals. He’d been to enough of them.

  “Should I leave?” Gina asked.

  “Nah. Might as well stay for the show.”

  “Hey, sugar,” his mother said in that deep drawl of hers.

  “Mama.” He didn’t move from his spot against the tree, but he touched Gina’s shoulder. “This is Gina. Gina, my mother.”

  The crack head.

  “Gloria Andrews,” she said, holding her hand to Gina. “Nice to meet you.”

  He had to admit Gloria’s appearance was different. Her skin not as leathered, her hair not as blond and her frame not as thin. The eyes, though. They had a sharpness to them he didn’t remember.

  “Mama, are you clean?”

  Gina breathed in hard. “Vic.”

  “It’s all right,” his mother said, not taking her eyes off him. “He’s entitled.” She straightened and lifted her chin. “Yes. Going on six months now.”

  Six months. Not bad. Her own personal record. “Congratulations. I think.”

  Her shoulders sagged and she faced Gina. “He’s angry and I don’t blame him.”

  How generous of her. Did she want a teary reunion? She wouldn’t get it. Not from him. She had turned him into a machine and that was what she’d get. “You walked out on me. That I could have lived with, but the coming around asking for money?”

  He stopped, shook his head and remembered where he was. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure everyone appreciates it.”

  She looked at the ground and nodded. Maybe acting like a cold-hearted prick wasn’t right, but he didn’t need this today. Or any day. He’d done right by supporting her and now he wanted to be left alone.

  “At the time,” his mother said, “I did the only decent thing I knew how to do. I’m sorry.”

  With that she faced Gina. “I hope to see you again.”

  His mother walked away, and that piece of his heart she still owned got chiseled down further. He couldn’t count how many times he’d watched her walk away and each time, no matter how old he was, it still hurt.

  “Wow,” Gina said.

  “Welcome to my world, babe.”

  “She’s prettier than I thought. Younger too. How old was she when you were born?”

  “Seventeen,” Vic said.

  “Ugh. So young.”

  And what? Sure, she’d been young. Did that give her the right to throw her life away for drugs?

  “Not that what she did was right,” Gina said, “but did you ever think maybe she did you a favor by leaving you with your aunt? I know you don’t think she loved you enough to stay, but maybe she loved you enough to go. Maybe she knew you’d have a better life with Tiny’s family.”

  He pushed away from the tree. “Can we talk about this later?”

  She shrugged. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Yeah. How about never?

  The last of the mourners stepped away from the casket. Gina didn’t look happy and that made two miserable people.

  “I need a minute with Tiny,” he said. “I’ll meet you back at the house.”

  That got him the lips-seal
ed-tight, wounded look. Batting a thousand today, but he needed space. He’d been pushing her away for five days now. Not returning her calls, giving her one-word answers when he did call. Shitty, yes, but he needed room and she didn’t want to give it to him.

  “I have my cell if you need something. Michael and I are flying back tonight. Lily isn’t sleeping well and I want to be home before she goes to bed. Just so you know.”

  He should say something. Every fiber told him so, but he’d never make her understand his grief manifested itself differently. She wouldn’t understand his working out until every muscle ached, or shooting until his hands blistered. Expending the energy had become his way of coping. This time, though, it wasn’t working. He felt beat up, his body pushed beyond its limits, and the fierce corrosion of his insides continued without relief. He couldn’t get rid of it. Couldn’t shut his mind off and free himself of Tiny with his head blown apart.

  “Got it,” he said, making no attempt to stop her from walking away.

  His mother.

  His aunt.

  Gina.

  For sure, his world had gone to hell. Vic loved them all in ways he couldn’t define because, after all, his mother had rejected him, Gina had not rejected him, and his aunt put up with his rebellious ways when it had hardly been her responsibility.

  And all three of them stood chatting by the old oak bookcase, not twenty feet from him.

  Kill me now.

  The late-afternoon sun warmed his legs and he rested his head against the wingback chair in his aunt’s living room. He closed his eyes to shut out the twenty people wandering around, reluctant to leave. He understood. He didn’t want to let go of Tiny either.

  He opened his eyes, caught Gina analyzing him, and turned to the window.

  “Hey,” Mike said, copping a squat in the opposite chair. He wore one of his slick designer suits, black, with a crisp white shirt and a tie. Mike hated ties and only did them when the occasion demanded it.

  “This sucks, huh?”

  Vic laughed for the first time all day. No wonder he and Mike got along.

  “I checked on the kids a while ago,” he said. “Everyone is at your place with Roxann. The kids are bored so the guys took them up to the pool.”