by A. Zavarelli
“No more screwing around today, pet,” he told me. “I need you to focus on the work I’ve given you.”
“What am I supposed to do between phone calls?” I grumbled.
He pointed at a stack of papers and a pen on the desk. “I have some paperwork I need you to sign. Non-disclosure agreements. Work contracts. Even if it’s only temporary, you’ll need to fill it out.”
“Oh goody,” I joked.
“When you’re finished with that, you can make a list for me. Three things that you would do with your life if you could do anything.”
“Seriously?”
He arched a dark brow at me. “Have you ever known me to be anything but serious?”
“No,” I admitted.
“I want serious answers, Gypsy,” he reiterated. “Give it some real thought.”
I wasn’t in the mood to argue this morning, so I just shrugged. “If that’s what gets your jollies off, I guess I’ve got nothing else to do.”
He gave me one final glance before walking into his office and shutting the door.
If I’d learned anything from my brief internship at Lucian’s office, it was that real work was boring as hell. I kept glancing at the clock on the wall and wondering if something was wrong with it. The phone had rung a total of seven times, and in almost all the cases, it was a new client looking for an attorney. Per Lucian’s previous instructions, I had to turn them down because he wasn’t taking on new cases. It seemed a bit strange that he would only work one case at a time, but then again, he was super focused.
I spent a good part of the day rifling through the drawers of the desk I had access to, though I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t find any juicy tidbits lying around. The most exciting thing I found was a heavy-duty stapler, if that counted for anything.
Around noon, I realized that Lucian’s meal alarm was about to go off, and I decided I might as well bring it in to him. It would give me an excuse to stretch and at least eat up a few minutes of the day. I grabbed his chicken wrap from the mini fridge and a bottle of water and headed for his office. He didn’t answer when I knocked, but I could hear him coughing from the other side.
I waited for a few more seconds, but the coughing didn’t cease, and it sounded pretty awful. It wasn’t really my concern, and it probably served him right catching a cold, but I figured it wouldn’t kill me to do something nice for him and at least give him the water.
I opened the door and let myself in but stopped when I found Lucian doubled over the garbage can. There were bloody tissues in his hand, and his dress shirt was soaked through with sweat.
“Lucian?”
He looked up at me and shook his head. “Go away.”
My stomach roiled. I could go away, and I probably should, but something wasn’t right. As selfish as I might be, I wasn’t about to leave him alone if he was seriously ill.
“Here.” I walked around the desk and untwisted the cap from the bottle of water, forcing it in his direction.
He looked up at me like he wanted to yell at me, but I didn’t think he could. Instead, he took a long drink and wiped his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s nothing,” he growled. “Just a touch of bronchitis.”
I remembered when Birdie was little, she got a few fevers that terrified me. I was so certain I would lose her each time that I wouldn’t even sleep until she was better. She always tried to put on a brave face for my benefit, and even though I was hardly the nursing type, it seemed like Lucian was also downplaying how awful he felt. Sure enough, when I rested my hand against his forehead, he was burning up.
He seized my wrist. “Go back to your desk, Gypsy.”
“You have a fever,” I snapped. “You can’t work like this.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Now leave.”
But he wasn’t fine. He launched into another coughing fit, and I stood by helplessly. It caught me off guard to see such a strong-willed man suffering. He was accustomed to controlling every aspect of his life, but right now, he couldn’t see that he was being ridiculous.
“Fine.” I walked around the desk and rummaged through his jacket pocket until I found his car keys. “I will leave, and you can either come with me or stay here. Your choice.”
“Gypsy.” His voice was a warning, but I ignored it as I fled from the office and down the hallway.
His black Dodge Demon was parked in the company lot, and I jogged in my heels to get there before he did even though I was fairly certain he wouldn’t be running in his condition. I was already behind the wheel with the engine fired up when he made an appearance at the driver’s side door.
“Get out,” he ordered.
“No.” I pointed at the passenger side. “You get in. I’m driving.”
“You are not driving my car.”
“Don’t you mean our car?” I smirked. “What’s yours is mine, honey.”
“You can’t handle this much horsepower, pet.”
“Bullshit I can’t.”
We glared at each other, and he broke into another coughing fit before doubling over in pain. I got out of the car and approached him the way one would approach a wild animal.
“Lucian.” My voice was soft, and I couldn’t remember being soft with anyone besides Birdie. “Please get in. Let me take you home.”
Finally, he looked up at me and nodded, his eyes filled with defeat. I wrapped my arm around his side and helped him into the passenger seat. I could tell he didn’t like it, but at this point, he really wasn’t in a position to argue.
I returned to my seat and drove the entire way home with him bitching about every little thing I did. Lucian did not like being out of control, and that was a fact. But I let him have this one because he was weak and tired and cranky as hell.
I helped him into the house until he shrugged me off and insisted he would be fine before collapsing onto the sofa, which was as far as he could make it. I offered him a couple of Tylenol from the kitchen and a glass of water, along with a cool cloth for his forehead. It was all I could really do. I expected he would be better in a couple of hours.
But he wasn’t.
He wasn’t better even after four hours, and by the time the moon came out, his fever had spiked to a dangerous level. He was delirious but still managed to respond when I roused him.
“Lucian, we need to go to the hospital. This isn’t normal.”
“My phone,” he croaked.
I fished around in his pocket for his phone, and he gestured for it. He typed out two texts before dropping it beside him and sinking back into the couch.
He wasn’t moving, and I didn’t know what to do. I checked the last message he sent, and realized he’d asked Ace to come over. But Ace wasn’t the only one to show up. When the doorbell sounded, and I answered it, I was surprised to see the same priest I’d been confessing my sins to for the last year.
“Father Hawk, what are you doing here?”
“Lucian texted me,” he explained. “I’m here to take him to the hospital.”
“Oh.” I opened the door and let him inside. “Thank you. I’ll just grab my shoes, and we can go.”
He stopped and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you can’t. He just wants me to take him.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue,” Ace said as he strode into the house. “You know by now it’s a waste of time. Besides, you’ll have me here to keep you company.”
I glanced at Lucian on the couch. I guess it didn’t matter that he didn’t want me there with him as long as he was going to see a doctor. But it didn’t change the fact that I was worried about him, and I didn’t even know why. Maybe it was just basic human decency, or maybe he’d found a way under my skin already. Regardless, I couldn’t deny the strange need I felt to go with him.
“Just take him to the hospital,” I pleaded. “He needs to go.”
Father Hawk and Ace loaded him into the car while I watched from the doorway. By this point, he was barely cons
cious, and I couldn’t say a word to him. Even if I could have, I didn’t know what it would be.
I hardly knew the guy. We were married, but that was just a piece of paper, really. That technicality didn’t make me feel any better when I watched Father Hawk drive away with my new husband.
AFTER AN ENTIRE DAY IN the hospital, I wasn’t sure what I would find waiting for me at home. But Ace was on the couch napping, and beside him, Gypsy was flipping through a magazine. When she looked up, there was a flash of relief in her eyes, followed by indignation.
“I wasn’t sure you’d even still be here,” I mused.
“Trust me,” she mumbled. “I considered leaving more than a few times.”
I didn’t ask her why she hadn’t. We both knew why she was here. It wasn’t because she was afraid of going to prison. She wanted to protect her sister, and as miserable as she might be here, she wouldn’t jeopardize Birdie in any way.
“Well?” She set down the magazine and stood. “What happened?”
“I’m fine,” I told her. “The fever broke, and they let me go.”
It wasn’t exactly the whole truth. I’d gone round and round with the doctors—as I usually did—but in the end, I discharged myself.
Gypsy bit her lip and held her hands together in a way that reminded me how fragile she could be. “So it was bronchitis then?”
Her eyes were soft and open, and I didn’t want to lie to her. I chose deflection, a cheap ploy. “Did you ever finish your list?”
She blinked. “What list?”
“If you could do anything with your life,” I said.
“Oh. Yes.”
“Do you have it?”
“It’s in my purse.” She didn’t look like she wanted to show me, but she would regardless.
I took a seat on the empty space of the couch. “Go get it.”
“Right now?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes, pet. Right now.”
“Glad to know you’re feeling like your old self again,” she murmured as she walked down the hall.
While she was gone, I thanked Ace and sent him home to relax. Gypsy returned a few minutes later with the piece of paper in her hand, her body rigid when she forked it over. “This is stupid, by the way,” she pointed out.
I looked at the list and couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at my lips. Her goals were ordered as I requested. All three of them.
Become a millionaire and retire early
Travel around the world
Get a boring, normal job
I was sure she expected me to chalk it up to sarcasm, but the thing about Gypsy was that she needed those boundaries. She craved them even though she couldn’t admit it to herself. When I looked at her, I saw the broken little girl who never had a chance to have those things. She’d been taking care of herself and Birdie so long that she had no idea what it was like to let someone take care of her. It was time she finally learned.
“I enrolled you into the GED program,” I told her. “You start on Monday.”
Her face blanched. “But what about work?”
“That was just a stepping-stone. You need to focus on school now.”
“I don’t want to go to school,” she protested.
I held out my hand. “Come here, pet.”
She hesitated, though ultimately gave in, coming to stand in front of me. I handed her back the list. It should have been the end of it, but I knew what I needed to do. And also, what I wanted to do. I pulled her into my lap, and she gasped.
“You did good,” I praised her with a featherlight touch against her arm. “I like it when you do what I say.”
She swallowed. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn’t. I needed to have some self-control because once I started, I wouldn’t stop.
“What are you afraid of?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she answered quietly. “I just don’t want to go.”
“You’re an intelligent girl. It’s time you put that intelligence to use.”
She looked away. “What good will a GED do me?”
“It’s a start,” I said. “And then you can take the next step, whatever that may be.”
She was quiet, and I doubted she’d accepted it that easily, but regardless, she was done arguing about it for the time being. I adjusted our bodies and narrowed the gap between us, resting her head against my shoulder. Her body was far from relaxed, but she didn’t move. Not even when I played with her hair.
Not even when I kissed her forehead.
“FORGIVE ME, FATHER, FOR I have sinned.”
“How long has it been since your last confession?” Father Hawk asked.
“I think you know.”
There was silence, and then he shifted, bowing his head forward. “How are you?”
He never addressed me by name because I’d never given it to him, and he had never asked. I liked the anonymity of it at first, but I didn’t anymore.
“What’s your first name, Father Hawk?”
I wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer, so I was surprised when he did.
“Cristian.”
I toyed with the rubber band between my fingers, snapping it against my skin to ease my nerves. “My name’s Gypsy, just so you know.”
I figured it didn’t matter at this point if I revealed at least that much. Lucian already knew my secrets anyway, so there was no running anymore. Not really.
Cristian didn’t answer, and I wondered what he was thinking. He was young for a priest. Maybe about thirty, if I had to guess. He was handsome too, and I could have pictured him living an entirely different life from the one he’d chosen. If I saw him in street clothes, I would have never known he was a religious figure. But maybe that’s what I liked about him. He was a modern representation of an ancient religion, and he didn’t judge me for the things I told him. I had a notion that was why Lucian liked him too.
“How long have you known Lucian?” I ventured.
“You know I can’t answer that.”
I shrugged. It was worth a try. “You must know him pretty well for him to call you when he’s sick. At first, I thought there was no way it could be a coincidence.”
“What?” Cristian asked.
“Both of us coming to this church. It seemed like there was some sort of connection, and you were the only link.”
“I would never betray your trust,” Cristian answered solemnly.
“I know. I’m just telling you the thought crossed my mind at first.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind today,” he suggested. “What brought you here?”
“I’m not sure.” I snapped the band again. “I’ve been with Lucian for two weeks now, and he thinks he’s going to send me back to school.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
I leaned back against the wood panel and blew out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s weird. I always wanted my sister to go so she could make something of herself, but I never really thought about doing it myself.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” My voice grew quiet. “I wasn’t sure that I could make anything of myself. I’m still not.”
“It’s scary for you to step outside your boundaries,” Cristian observed.
I nodded, forgoing a verbal response. Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I was telling him any of this. I knew the whole point of coming here was to confess my sins, but it always ended up being more like a counseling session somehow. And today, after signing up for class, I felt like I needed to come here.
“What makes you so uncertain about your future?” he prompted.
“I don’t know. I’m only good at one thing, and it isn’t a good thing.”
He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Conning people?”
“Yes.”
“I believe there is much more to you than that.”
“Not really.” I sank into myself the way I usually did when someone tried to give me a compliment. “After my mom left, Ricky only kept us
in school when it suited him. I can’t even remember the last grade I made it through.”
He was quiet for a while, but I knew he would ask about her. Maybe that’s why I brought it up. Sometimes, I thought of her. Sometimes I missed her, and other times I hated her. Mostly, I didn’t even know if she was ever real because it had been so long since I’d seen her face.
“When did your mom leave?” he asked.
My foot edged toward the door, an old habit that eased some of the anxiety during difficult conversations. “I’m not sure. I was six, I think.”
“Where did she go?”
“Ricky always said she went back to her clan. She was a gypsy, but she’d been shunned, and that’s how she ended up with him in the first place. So, I don’t think she really went back.”
“What do you think really happened?” Cristian asked.
“I think Ricky killed her, probably.”
Cristian’s posture changed, and I could practically feel the tension taking up space between his bones. I’d never admitted it out loud to anyone before, not even Birdie. I told her that Mom had to go back to her clan, and we weren’t allowed because we were only half gypsy. She hadn’t ever questioned it.
“And Ricky was not your real father?” Cristian’s voice was delicate as though he thought his questions might break me.
“No, he was her pimp. We don’t know who our fathers were. I don’t even know if my mom knew.”
Another silence. It hurt to admit my truth, and I didn’t know why. It shouldn’t hurt so much anymore. I was an adult now. I’d made it through the worst of my life. It was stupid that I came here and confessed these things. They weren’t important, but Cristian seemed to disagree.
“Sometimes it helps just to say things out loud,” he acknowledged gently.
“Yeah, I guess.” I nodded. “But that’s why. My schooling wasn’t a priority when I had to take care of my sister. I never resented it, but now I don’t know what else to be. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“It’s never too late to change,” he said. “You are still young. You have your life ahead of you. Perhaps you should set your fears aside and just take it one day at a time instead of looking at the big picture.”