by T K Barber
Did she feel guilty? Not a damn bit. Annalise spun on her heel and stormed off down the sidewalk, arms tucked in tight.
Air nipped at her skin and she clenched her jaw. One thing was certain. She was damn sure not going to spend her nineteenth birthday sad, lonely, and scared to death of what was happening to the love of her life.
How dare they act like they cared about him. They didn’t care at all. Just one piece moving in a whole stupid game that she didn’t want to be a part of. That she’d save him from.
She’d find him on her own. She’d wage war for him. How hard could that be? She could hit. She had a gun.
She could do this.
Becca/Antoni
Becca set the phone down and covered her mouth. She’d never heard such a defeated tone in Marianna’s voice before.
How could he drug his own son? That sweet boy.
Antoni jammed his arms into his shirt, lips pressed into a thin line.
Tears dripped from Becca’s eyes as her husband prepared to meet a monster. Would this be the last time?
He finished the last button and stepped up to her, put his hands on her face, and forced her to look at him.
“Tony, he—”
“I know. I’m going, love. Don’t open the door for anyone. I don’t care what they say, or who it is. Do you hear me?”
She nodded and sucked in a shallow breath. “He’s—what can we do? How can we—” She choked on the words and squinted.
“I don’t know.” He placed a firm kiss on her lips. She threw her arms around his neck but pulled back quickly and pushed him toward the door.
“Rebecca, look at me.” She barely managed it but found his eyes, and he smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Go. Hurry. And go the back—”
“I will.” He eased the door closed, and Becca rested her forehead against it.
She should have made Thomas stay. Though, what difference would one more night have made? She checked the locks before pushing backward. A slow breath out and a spin toward the stairs brought Paulie’s wide eyes into view.
“Where’s dad going?”
Drat. She forced her mouth into a smile and exhaled. “Mr. Valentine called him into work on a case.”
Paulie rolled his eyes and huffed a breath. “That guy’s such a tool.”
“Mm.” Becca narrowed an eye at him. “That guy let your father be a partner in the firm with no experience. Hired me as a receptionist. Thanks to him, we have this house. And you know, that funny little thing called money.”
Paulie’s brow drooped. “Dad’s a better lawyer. And not crooked. Also, not a tool.”
So very true. Becca chuckled and stepped in front of Paulie to straighten his ruffled hair. He groaned and jerked his head backward, then smoothed the same hairs down on his own. “I got it, jeez.”
Becca pressed her first knuckle against her lips, hiding her smile until reality hit her again and she dropped her arm. Poor Thomas.
Paulie reached out and wrapped her in a hug, surprising her.
“Thomas’ll be alright, Mom. He’s a tough son of a bitch.”
Had she said it out loud? She couldn’t even scold him. That’s exactly what Thomas was. But he wasn’t alright. She wanted to nod. To be the one comforting her son, not the other way around, but her heart squeezed. She pulled back and wiped fresh tears from her face.
“You should have been sleeping,” a breath caught in her lungs, and she let out a small cough. “Not eavesdropping. Is Pete still—”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Far as I know. His door’s still shut.”
She nodded and rubbed his upper arm. “Head on to bed. You need sleep.”
“You going?”
She shook her head. Sleep wouldn’t be her friend tonight, that was for sure.
He stretched his lanky frame and smiled. “Then I’m good. Find something on TV, I’ll get us a drink.”
Tears welled in her eyes again, and she tugged him into a hug. “Paulie, I’m so proud of the man you’re becoming.”
He chuckled and shrugged. “Okay. Thanks.”
She squeezed him a final time before he stepped back and crossed the living room. When he disappeared behind the wall that flanked the couch, Becca dropped down on the plush fabric.
“Poor Thomas,” she mumbled and rubbed her temples.
Tony had to be careful. Whatever devil’s poison Lyle had given Thomas was clearly dangerous. Blood drained from her face, and her eyes widened. What if he had more?
She popped up and snagged her phone from the entry table. Her fingers flew across the screen, directly ordering Tony not to take any offered drinks. Sent.
She turned back toward the living room and cast a glance through the door glass. A white-hot needle of panic froze her in place.
A large black car idling halfway up their driveway. The heat from the exhaust caused a steady stream of fog to wind toward the sky. The front passenger side door opened, and her heart shattered.
“Thomas . . .”
She jammed her phone in her back pocket, dashed across the room and grabbed the lock but froze. He was under control. She couldn’t risk it. Tears fell again and she gritted her teeth.
Okay. Why would he be here? Lyle knew Antoni was on the way to him. Unless Thomas was sent to get him? She scrunched her nose. That wouldn’t make sense.
She stepped back, leaving the door firmly locked, and crossed back into the living room. Pacing in front of the couch was the closest she could manage to be sitting at that moment.
“Mom, we’re out of cranberry juice. What else do you want?”
Her breath ran away from her.
‘Shame.’
The boys. He was there for the boys. Had to be. Why else?
Lucky for her she was in front of the couch when her knees gave out.
Her eyes flitted to motion through a crack in the blinds filling the large picture window in front of her.
“What’s that?” Becca sat up straighter and strained to see clearer.
A silver reflection. Another.
In a flash the window exploded inward, sending shards across the living room like a glass cloud. She screamed, covering her head as small cuts opened on her arms. Several warning pops followed, each burrowing in the drywall above and to the left of her head.
“Mom?!” Paulie rounded the wall at a run.
She immediately lunged for him. “No! Stay in—”
Another loud pop and time slowed. She wasn’t fast enough.
Paulie’s body jerked in a half-circle. He screamed, a shredded, terrible sound, and collapsed to the ground.
“Oh my God, oh my God! Paulie!” Becca dropped to the ground as well and scrambled over to his writhing frame, slicing her knees on the glass. Two more pops connected with the wall.
She couldn’t even process the sound or the pain. Her baby. Her baby was hurt.
He screamed again, tears pouring from his eyes. She skated her trembling hands above his body until the blood made itself well known. Oh. God.
“Paulie, you’re okay. Hey! Baby, breathe with me.”
His eyes went wild, and he threw his hand over his bicep, drawing back blood. All the color drained from his face, leaving behind a pale green mask. He turned on his side and threw up while Becca rubbed his back.
“You’re okay baby, it’s okay. We’ve got to wait here though! I can’t—” Paulie’s screams mixed with incoherent mutterings, and Becca swallowed.
A car door slammed, and wheels spun as the car exited the driveway. A rush burst through her, and she grabbed her phone. Blood smeared across the screen as she dialed 9-1-1.
“You’ll be fine. I just have to-to stop the bleeding, okay?” She grimaced and pressed down on the wound. He screamed again, this time with a wet gurgle sound. Her stomach trembled.
“Hey, stay with me sweetie, you’re—it’s just shock.”
God, why is there so much b
lood?!
****Antoni****
Antoni eased the rear door open and closed it behind him just as gently. He really had no reason to sneak around, but caution was best regardless. Most especially when dealing with Lyle.
He took the stairs with even and calm steps, despite the tremor of the unknown.
The Findley case was a done deal. But, even if something had come up last minute, his opinion was the last thing Lyle would have asked for.
His attention rolled back to the gun in his waistband.
Which is why he’d come prepared. And thanks to the text from amazing wife, he’d also not be taking any proffered drinks.
Just as he crested the stairs, Lyle’s office door opened across the grand foyer. Antoni swallowed and rolled back his shoulders as he cleared the threshold.
“Good evening, Lyle.”
Lyle’s eyes snapped to his, and he waited for one beat before setting his sickening smile loose on the room.
“Antoni. So pleased you’re here.”
The phone tucked in his left pocket buzzed, and he quickly silenced it. Lyle was a massive stickler for not using devices at work. Best not to poke the bear, even after hours.
Besides, he’d already told her he wouldn’t. He smiled. She always did worry too much.
“What’s going on with Findley? I thought you’d settled days ago.”
Lyle’s smile grew larger and colder if such a thing was possible. “So I did. It seems I was mistaken. Well, since you’re here,” he gestured to his office.
Antoni halted halfway through the room. “What for? If you’ve no need of me I’d much prefer to be at home with my family.”
“Ah, yes.” Lyle crossed his arms and leaned against his door frame. “Your family. How are they tonight?”
Before a reply could even form, the front door swung open, drawing both their attention. His breath froze in his throat as a stone-faced Thomas strolled in. A hole opened in Antoni’s chest as he saw the extent of the damage that might have been done. He was so empty. Different.
The slow methodic steps continued straight up to Lyle, who pushed away from the frame and moved to meet him.
The phone buzzed against Antoni’s leg again, and he pushed the volume button to silence it a second time.
“Speaking of family.” Lyle grinned and held out an arm. Antoni’s eyes bugged. When had he ever—
Thomas reached him, and Lyle clapped him on the shoulder. “How did it go? Message delivered?”
“Yeah.”
“Good!” He squeezed Thomas’s shoulder and inclined his head. “And the second task?”
“Done.”
Lyle let out a short laugh and pulled Thomas into a one-armed hug. “Outstanding. Good job, son.”
Antoni’s stomach turned. Whatever had happened had seriously affected both of them. Thomas’s slow, happy smile broke his heart. That was directed at precisely the wrong person.
Yet again, the phone came to life in his pocket, this time as a full call, the vibrations longer and repeated. He furrowed his brow and jammed the button down again. She really needed to calm down a little.
Antoni’s heart hammered as he stepped further into the room, toward the pair of them.
He cleared his throat. “Thomas, are you . . . alright?”
Not even the smallest twitch of recognition as he remained motionless. Antoni chanced a few steps closer, the phone in his pocket buzzing yet again.
Lyle caught Antoni’s gaze, arms still locked around Thomas’ shoulder. “You aren’t surprised to find him alive and well I see.”
Fear pooled in Antoni’s stomach, making his legs weak and burn with the urge to run at the same time.
“Not at all.” He battled a quake in his voice. “I overheard his death was faked not too long ago.”
Thomas stared at him. Nothing emanated from his eyes, no expression on his face any longer.
He stood stationary. Like a robot, waiting on his next command. Antoni swallowed. That was more than an apt analogy.
Lyle smiled. “Is that so? I heard an entirely different story.” He checked his watch, then turned his gaze back to Thomas. “Are you ready for task number three?”
There wasn’t an immediate response from Thomas, and Lyle’s smile dropped. “Son, you’re not going to let me down now, are you?”
He blinked at Antoni, then dragged his eyes up to meet Lyle’s. “Yeah, Pop. I’m ready.”
His smile returned and he clapped Thomas’s shoulder again before letting his arm drop from around his shoulders. “Good. Go on.”
Antoni realized he should probably be afraid for his life at exactly the moment Thomas walked right past him and down the back steps.
Blood sputtered through his veins as adrenaline soared.
“I—” he swallowed. “Thought you might have him kill me.”
Lyle’s eyes widened and jaw dropped. Genuine shock?
“Why on earth would I do that? You’re my partner, Antoni. No, I brought you here to thank you.” He gestured to the door. “You kept my son safe while he healed.”
Antoni exhaled a great breath and rubbed a hand down the side of his face. That was the last thing he expected to hear. Good.
“Though.” Lyle sucked in a breath from one side of his mouth. “You did lie to me. Hide him from me. Sadly, that can’t be ignored.”
Ice ripped through Antoni’s veins, and yet again his phone buzzed, the sound loud in the now silent room. Lyle grinned again and turned on his heel, his steps echoing as he headed back into his office.
His voice carried across the foyer. “You’re going to want to take that call, Antoni. Could be a matter of life and death.”
Marianna
Marianna sighed. What a stubborn, reckless little girl.
She had just opened her mouth to ask Rico a question when a familiar, and previously unaccounted for, black car pulled up to the curb.
“Where was he?” Rico spoke sideways as he stepped up even with her. She shrugged.
The bald man staggered out of the driver’s side, and Marianna’s eyes widened.
“Booker! So, that’s how they got him.”
Rico grunted when Booker rounded the front and leaned back against the hood. “You were clearly the loser in that fight. Anything broken?”
Booker nodded. “Pretty sure a couple things are.” His voice, nasal and muted as he continued. “Sorry I failed.”
“Si. You did.” Rico pointed down the sidewalk. “Fix it by following her. Keep your distance but watch her.”
Marianna’s brows remained up as she cut her eyes to him. Ordering her men around, in front of her no less. Unacceptable.
Booker didn’t give her a second look but gave Rico a single nod and a small smile.
“On it.”
Marianna thinned her lips as he rounded the car again and dropped onto the seat. A few seconds later, Booker’s car was headed toward Annalise. Marianna exhaled any speck of relief and took in a chestful of irritation as she spun, prepared to pin Rico with a glare.
Only he was facing the remaining Price men.
He gestured with his head to them. “Nice work. Go. We’ll call.”
His eyes followed each in turn as they left, likely making sure everyone was accounted for. Her rage sputtered.
He was doing her job.
She should have been issuing the orders. Already on the phone, making calls and solving everyone’s problems.
She should have chewed him out. But as she stood there chewing on her lip instead, she knew she wasn’t in her best frame of mind. Clearly, Rico knew that too. What would she do without him? Her stomach fluttered.
Rico faced her finally and stared down into her eyes. He raised an eyebrow as he uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips.
She did her best not to whither under that glare, but she knew what was coming.
He exhaled. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
T
here it was. She focused on the fact that his accent always got thicker, his sentences shorter when he was upset. That he was much better at issuing orders than she was. That his eyes were the most like his mother’s out of any of the brothers. Anything other than what he asked her.
But after the last car pulled out of sight around the corner, she lost control of her emotions. She put her hand to her cheek and swallowed.
“That he’s gone for good? That we were too late? That I failed him—again!? That I lost my—”
Rico’s expression softened as she choked on her words. She struggled to find a position for her arms that didn’t feel awkward and useless. Story of her life. Cracks in the sidewalk, for some reason, became terribly interesting as she floundered.
After the third time she uncrossed her arms and cleared her throat of tears, he put his hands on her shoulders.
“Look at me.”
That was the last thing she wanted to do. He’d see her tears, and she wasn’t supposed to cry. She wasn’t supposed to be ruffled and upset. She was supposed to be solid. Emotionless. The pinnacle of leadership. A fine-tuned engine of decisions.
Yet, she was having a difficult time believing a single one she’d made had been worth a damn si—
“Guardami, Marianna!”
She froze, flicked her eyes to his, and took what she hoped would be a calming breath. No such luck. The jump in his jaw told her loud and clear he was struggling around the Italian that wanted to run from his lips as he took the time to choose his words.
It reminded her of when she’d tutored him at her house after school. Of what a cute, determined little seven-year-old he’d been. How he’d refused to do the easy lessons because he wanted her freshman ones. God, that was forever ago now.
She almost smiled, but her heart ached instead. His jaw worked for another moment and he sighed.
“We could not have been faster. Or done more.”
She scoffed and shifted, wanting to move out of his orbit of distracting cologne, but he held her shoulders firm. He continued when she finally met his gaze again.