by Kelly Wood
“The family is here for your stupid wedding. Nobody wanted to come ‘just for my show.’”
“Maybe if you stuck with something longer than two months, we’d be supportive.” The world around me shrank down to just Passion and I. Frank and Gray disappeared. The crowds and the hotel vanished. The sirens and lights from the emergency vehicles were silenced by the blood pounding through my veins. I only saw Passion and the feelings between us.
“We can’t all be perfect like you. Mom and Dad brag about you like you hung the moon,” Passion yelled.
“Oh, please. They’re parents. They brag on all of us.”
“Not true. It’s Regan this, and Regan that. How’s anyone supposed to live up to that?”
“I dropped out of college. I’m homeless. And I can carry all of my worldly possessions on my back. There’s not a lot there to brag about.” My anger propelled me closer to her. If I still had my heels on, I’d be nose-to-nose with her.
“That’s the point! ‘Regan follows her passion. Regan can do anything she sets her mind to. Regan. Regan. Regan.” The venom coming off her words struck my heart, but I didn’t back down.
“Stop being a drama queen. You’re beautiful. I wish I was half as pretty as you are.”
“That’s the point!”
“How many points do you have?”
“Regan does and Passion is. You make things happen. You push through until you’ve achieved the goal. I. Just. Am. One day my prettiness will be gone. What will be left?”
My anger dissipated and my heart broke for my little sister. Passion was the pretty one. Peyton was the kind sister. Me, the adventurous one. It really wasn’t all her fault. She’d been fawned over for her looks her whole life. She never had to work to be the smart one. She never had to set goals and work to achieve them. Because of her looks, people fell over themselves to give her things and just be near her. She’d never had to really try at anything. But I’d been witness to her putting her all into this one show. She may have thrown it all away after the run was over, but for now, she was actually trying and working toward something. I ignored the fact that with Frank as her boyfriend, she may not really have had to try all that hard.
I sat down on the grass and patted the area next to me. Passion’s shoulders slumped as she deflated. She plopped down next to me. I put my arm around her and pulled her head onto my shoulder.
“Passion, did I ever tell you the story of Ben when I was in college?”
“That guy you dated?” she asked.
“Yes. He almost broke me. Almost.” I related the story to her. Coming home to an empty apartment while the doorman dumped me. Thanks to our run-in in Chicago recently, I was able to tell the story without emotion. I’d finally put it in the past. “Here’s my point, Passion. I learned to be strong and push. I learned to fight for what I wanted. A lot of the lessons came from Gray. He encouraged me to go after my dreams. I wasn’t born this way. I learned it with age and trials and failures.”
“Ugh, the doorman, huh? Rough.” I laughed out loud. Passion focused on the doorman and not my heartfelt speech. Oh well, you can’t win them all.
“It was rough. At the time.”
“Does this mean you’ll help us, Regan?”
“No.”
“Come on! You’re my big sister, you’re supposed to help me.” Just like that, the moment was gone. Passion and I both got to our feet, ready to square off again.
Passion tried every tactic she’d used since she was four. She begged and pleaded and cajoled. She tried whining, humor and just looking cute. Her switching of tactics made me dizzy, and her whining made me nauseated. It wasn’t cute at any age. I was over it. I just wanted the truth. “We’re not six anymore. Stop trying to manipulate. It’s your turn to come clean.”
“Fine.” Passion pouted and kicked at the grass with her foot before she continued. Passion mumbled her words. “I set it all up.”
I cupped my hand behind my ear.
“I set it all up,” she said more clearly.
“And...”
“I asked Frank to request you when he told me about the article.”
“Why?” I asked, rolling my hand for her to keep going.
Passion kicked around at the ground some more. My temper flared again. I started to leave.
“Wait. You always cancel your trips here at the last minute. You writing the article would guarantee a visit. The wedding guaranteed everyone else coming out for my show.”
“Why’d you have to manipulate everything? You could’ve just asked. We would’ve come.”
“Because I needed you.”
“I got it. You needed me to snoop around.”
“No. Well, yes, but not just that. I needed you. Listen, it used to be me trailing after you and Peyton, but now you’re all too busy. Peyton has her kids and she loves being a mom. You have Gray and your travels. You are always off doing something and don’t have time for me. You both left me behind.”
Guilt warred inside of me. I’d always felt protective of Passion. Peyton and I both nurtured her and babied her, but when I took off with Gray I didn’t give her a second thought.
“I’m not letting you make me feel guilty over living my life. We didn’t leave you behind. It was just time for you to stand on your own.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I swear!” Passion reached for my hands. “I just wanted my big sister. I wanted to have fun like we used to. I wanted you to see me on stage and be proud of me.”
“Oh, honey. I am proud of you. You work hard at your craft, but I’m not proud of your behavior. You were raised better than that.”
“Now you sound like Mom.”
I bristled at the accusation but pulled Passion into my arms anyway. “Are you done being a brat?” Her affirmation was muffled against my neck. I rubbed her back and held her against me. Her height made the hug awkward, but neither of us minded.
“Are you going to help me?” Passion asked.
“Why does this mean so much to you?”
“Because I love him and he’s hurting.” Passion pulled back and looked me in the eye. “I can’t stand seeing him like this. Please.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly before answering. I looked at Gray. He nodded his acceptance but I knew I would live to regret this. “Fine.”
“Regan? One more thing?” I tensed my muscles in preparation of her next words. “I am more than a pretty face, right?”
“Yes, Passion. You are annoying and manipulative and caring and loving. And, sometimes even smart when you allow yourself to be.” I pulled her head down and gave her a noogie.
“You two ready to end this round?” Gray asked. My world grew larger again. Frank stood off to the side talking on his cell phone. The crowds around us were thinning out as people were being let back into the hotel. The emergency crews shuffled around, but no one hustled. I assumed the fire must’ve been minor otherwise the chaos would still be going on.
“Come on.” I put my arm around Passion and led her back to the hotel. I assumed Gray and Frank would follow us. “I will try and help. I don’t know what I can do, but I will try. I have one condition, though.”
“Oh, boy. What?”
“I don’t start until the morning. This is my honeymoon after all.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Franky September 1988
“You’re leaving?” Franky stared at Guy as he leaned against the stud of the unfinished wall. “You can’t leave.”
“I can,” Guy shot back.
“Just like that? You’re the son of Antonio Bianchi. Don’t you get it? You can’t just leave.”
“I can, and I am.” Guy’s gaze never lingered from Franky’s. Franky could see the determination in it.
“What will you do?” Franky asked. “You’ve never worked a day in your life.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Please. You’re soft. You won’t make it a day without money.” Franky paced in t
he small space, running his fingers through his hair. It stuck up in odd places, contrasting with the perfection of his tuxedo.
“I’m doing this. Say whatever you want, but I’m done.”
“You are just an ungrateful punk. Your whole life is set here. Money, house, casino, clothes, food. Anything you’ll need, and you’re going to walk away. And, for what? Some crush?”
Guy sprang up at the insult on Gracie. She wasn’t a crush. She was his love, his life. Franky and Guy circled one another like caged animals. Both wanting to strike and yet hoping it wouldn’t come to that. The two had been closer than brothers their whole lives. Neither wanted to end it, but neither was willing to back down either. Guy stopped pacing, kicking a lone hammer out of his way.
“She’s not some floozy I picked up. I want to marry her. Have children with her.”
“So, do that. Here.” Franky pointed at the ground as he spoke.
“She’s better than this. I can’t have her around, worrying who may get to her. I can’t make her a prisoner of this life. I won’t.”
“A prisoner? She’d have everything here. You’d be able to protect her here.”
“I don’t want here. Listen to me.” Guy pulled at his hair with both hands. He paced in the short hallway. Two steps there. Two steps back. “I want a life. A real life with Gracie.”
“How? You have nothing. Your father owns everything.” Frank practically growled out his reply.
“I’ll... I’ll make a deal with the Feds. I’ll get a new life with Gracie and... we’ll start over. A safe life for us.” Music from the party above echoed down to them. Upstairs couples were dancing, drinking champagne. Down below, Franky’s life was crumbling.
“You’d be a traitor? A snitch? I never would’ve pegged you for that.”
“I’m doing what’s best for my family,” Guy defended his position, standing up straighter as he spoke.
“Your family? Your family that you’re going to send to prison?” Franky jabbed his index finger in Guy’s chest with each word. Through the rage, a small cloud of logic formed. “Why are you telling me this?”
“So, you have a chance, too.”
“You think I’ll turn traitor, too? Hell, no.”
“Franky, you’ll go down with them. Especially after the last few months.”
“The family’s made it through scandal before. We’ll do it again.”
Guy grabbed the lapels of Franky’s coat, forcing their eyes to meet. “No, you won’t. The family barely made it through the last one. We lost some good men to prison time. Don’t be one of them Franky. Come with me. You can change your life. Have a chance to make something of it.”
“No, Guy, this is your chance. You’ve always been a selfish brat. I’m not going,” Franky said.
Guy shook Franky once before releasing him. “You have always been a stubborn mule.” Guy blew out the breath he’d been holding. “Then I need a favor.” Franky stopped straightening the front of his shirt. A favor? The gall of him. Guy didn’t hesitate as he continued. “Give me an hour before you tell Antonio.”
Guy’s use of his father’s first name was Franky’s first clue how serious Guy was about leaving. Up until that point, Franky thought Guy was blowing smoke. Guy never stuck with any one idea long. Franky thought he’d be able to talk Guy down from the ledge, get some sense back into him. Even if he couldn’t talk him into staying, maybe that was for the better. Franky had started his college courses, and they were going well. Antonio and Garrett Costa had plans for him, plans for his future. What would it matter if Guy walked away? Nothing. But, it would matter if he walked away talking.
“I get it, I think. You picture you and Gracie with a house, white picket fence, kids. I get it. You don’t want the image ruined with a drive-by, but Guy, whatever you do, don’t turn rat. This is your family, literally and figuratively. Leave, but don’t talk.”
“I have to.” Guy slumped back against the construction wall. Antonio and Costa had wasted no time in reorganizing. The sublevels were already under construction for new counting rooms. Talk had gone back and forth about adding an underground tunnel between the two properties. There was no way to bypass Caesar’s, though. The little boy in Franky would’ve loved a secret passage.
“Go to your dad. Maybe he could front you start-up for your new life.”
“I tried. This is the only way. I don’t have any money of my own. This way we can start fresh,” Guy said with almost a whine in his voice.
“Are you sure? Are you going to be able to live with yourself, knowing you put away your brothers? Your father? Me? For what? A new name and some pocket change each month?”
Guy met Franky’s eyes before answering. “Yeah, I can. For her.”
“This is it?”
“Yeah, this is it. I’m out. Good luck to ya, Franky. Stay safe.” Guy turned and started to walk away, secure in knowing Franky would grant him the favor.
In the last few months, Franky’s life had shown a light at the end of the tunnel. He’d stopped running petty hustles on the street. He’d moved up the ranks quickly. First, protecting Antonio from the ambush. Second, bringing Costa and Antonio closer with a plan. Third, killing Milano. Franky could almost grasp the golden ticket. His life would be set. No more scraping by for food and housing. No more secondhand clothes that didn’t quite fit. No more hustling to make a dime. It was all disappearing before his eyes. Because one rich, snot-nosed punk had fallen in love and was willing to turn his back on his real family.
Franky glanced down at his feet, closing in on the hammer that Guy had kicked his way. It was supposed to be Franky and Guy at the top. It was supposed to the two of them against the world. Guess it’ll just be me, then, Franky thought.
“Wait.” Franky barely whispered the word. Guy stopped walking. He kept his back to Franky for a solid minute before turning around and walking back to him. Guy never saw the strike coming. He never felt the hammer strike his temple. His body crumpled at Franky’s feet.
Franky felt no remorse. After all, he was doing nothing more than protecting his family. His true family. The one that had protected him. Franky still held the hammer in his hand when he heard Gracie calling Guy’s name. He dropped it near the body, covering both with a discarded drop cloth, and hurried to her before she found him.
Franky would come back later when the party was dying down to deal with the body. Right now, his focus was on distracting Gracie and coming up with a lie about Guy’s whereabouts. Franky wiped the sweat from his brow, straightened his tuxedo and walked away from his best friend.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I yawned again behind my hand, trying unsuccessfully to hide it. My cold shower was only a temporary fix to my lack of sleep. Frank, Passion, and Gray waited for my yawn to pass before continuing.
“Sorry. Start at the beginning, Frank,” I said.
“I don’t know what the beginning looks like. If you’d asked me that a few days ago, I would’ve said just this week. But, looking back, it’s been happening for months.” Frank paced behind his desk as he spoke, his hands punctuating the air with each word. Passion sat on the edge of his desk kicking her feet. Gray and I occupied the two chairs for guests.
“What’s been happening? My hair? The pool?” Irritation came through in my tone. I’d learned Frank was very good at using words without saying a thing.
“Yes, but more. My car not starting.”
“Sometimes cars don’t start,” Gray said, his tone smooth and conciliatory. I shot him a smile acknowledging his attempt to smooth out my anger.
“Because someone unhooked the battery? That’s deliberate.”
“True,” I conceded. “What else?”
“A few times it has felt like someone was watching us,” Passion said. “I’d get that creepy feeling on the back of my neck.” Passion shuddered like she had spiders crawling on her.
“Listen, I’ll give you that someone blew up your pool since I witnessed it, but the rest I don’t buy
. Passion, people watch you all the time. You’re beautiful. You turn every head when you walk into a room—”
“Exactly, Regan. I know what’s it’s like when people openly stare, and I know what’s it’s like to be watched. It’s different.” Passion stood with her outburst, moving toward Frank. He stopped pacing and put his arms around her. Once again, I was jarred by the age difference.
“Fine. You’ve been watched and the pool has blown up.” I rolled my eyes at Gray.
“Don’t forget your hair!” Passion said. I ran my fingers through the short locks and down to the back of my neck. My naked, exposed neck.
“The stylist could’ve mixed up the chemicals.” Gray pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed my palm. His tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive area. I jerked my hand away and shoved it under my thigh. If he kept the flirting up, I’d drag him back to our room to enjoy our marital status.
“I don’t hire people who make mistakes,” Frank declared. “There’s more. The police are questioning if the man jumped or was pushed. His wife was arrested but released. Either way, it’s a PR nightmare. Especially right before the grand reopening. Nancy, my head of Public Relations has been missing since yesterday. The fire alarm last night. Thank God nothing burned and no one was hurt.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It was all just smoke and mirrors. A hack in the system set the alarms off while smoke bombs were set off on the third floor.”
“These all sound like meaningless pranks, stuff teenagers would do,” I said.
“They would be if we weren’t celebrating our grand reopening this weekend. These pranks are costing me millions. Reservations are already starting to be canceled. I can’t let this happen. I’ve sunk everything I own into updating this casino. I’ll be ruined if it fails.”
“Uncle Frank, let’s rewind. I think we should look at a different angle. Who would benefit from the hotel failing?”