Victorious Vice (Bellamy Brothers #6)

35. Raven

35

RAVEN

A fter dinner, I find myself thinking about ways to sneak out of my parents’ home. Get a car. Drive to Austin to see Vinnie.

But he’s told me to stay away.

Besides, he’s married now.

I don’t for a moment believe he loves Daniela. In fact, I believe him when he says they haven’t consummated the marriage.

My thoughts go to Belinda, the lovely little girl who Vinnie is supposed to marry when she turns eighteen. The little girl who is pleading for help.

I wish I could do something for her.

But here I am, trapped.

Though I beat cancer, and I’m no longer trapped in the hospital, I am no less trapped.

Jared, of course, is hovering.

My mother’s out on the deck having a glass of wine. Robin has left to go to her own home.

I decide to go outside and sit with my mother.

Jared follows me, of course.

I turn to him. “I’d really like to talk to my mother alone.”

He nods. “I’ll go out of earshot.” He walks off the deck, toward the pool house, where he takes a seat on one of the Adirondack chairs near the entrance to the pool.

And he watches.

“He’s driving me slowly into madness,” I say to my mother.

Mom reaches over to my shoulder and squeezes it. “That doesn’t matter, Raven. What matters is that you’re safe. And Falcon, Leif, and your father believe you need Jared.”

“Yes, I know.”

She takes a sip of her wine. “I’ve seen one of my children go to prison. Another nearly lose her battle to cancer. And now this.” She shakily takes another sip. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”

I sigh. Then I stand, walk over to the outdoor bar, and pour myself a glass of the red wine my mother’s drinking. Yes, I’m still on medication.

And I don’t fucking care.

I take a sip.

And it’s delicious.

It’s nothing fancy, just a C?tes du Rh?ne from France, but it’s been so long since I let myself have a drink of wine. I return and sit next to my mother.

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” she says.

“Maybe not,” I say. “But one glass of wine isn’t going to change anything. You remember our trip to wine country?”

She nods. “Yes. I was supposed to go with Falcon.”

I gaze out toward the pool. “And you got stuck with me.”

“Oh, Ray. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Yes, you’re right. I shouldn’t be so defensive. I’m just so tired of all of this.” I scoff. “I went and fell in love with a fucking gangster.”

“You wouldn’t fall in love with someone who isn’t a good man.”

“I know that. And I know he loves me. That’s why he left me. He doesn’t want me in danger. Yet here I am in danger anyway. With a bodyguard. Being forced to stay with my parents.” I let out a sarcastic laugh.

Mom takes another sip of her wine. “I can’t lose you, Raven.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Mom.”

And damn it, I mean those words with all my heart. I didn’t let cancer get me, and I’m certainly not going to let some mafia hit get me.

“But I am going to live my life,” I add.

“I know. You’ve lost too much of it already.” She pats my hand gently. “You and Falcon had years of your life stolen through no fault of your own.”

“So you never thought Falcon was guilty.”

Mom steels her face. “I know he wasn’t. Falcon’s one of the good men. He and Leif were supposed to join the Navy SEALs together after college. They’d been talking about it for a good decade, since they were teens. He was twenty-two years old. He knew how to handle a gun better than your father did. And that’s saying a lot because your father’s an excellent shot. So am I, for the record, so I know what I’m talking about. I’ve watched all of you learn to shoot a gun, and I know which one of you is the best at it. Falcon. My oldest. And there was no way he would’ve accidentally shot anyone. He was too careful for that.”

“So you’ve always known.”

“That he was protecting someone? Yes, I have. He was protecting Hawk.”

“Hawk?”

“Yes, he and Hawk were outside doing target practice. Who else could it have been? Who else might’ve been using Falcon’s gun?”

I take another sip of my wine. Do I tell my mother the truth?

“He had to take the blame for it,” Mom continues. “You know Hawk. His sense of justice. He couldn’t have handled being labeled a criminal. What I don’t understand is why Hawk didn’t confess. His conscience should have made him.”

Funny how my mother can’t see the truth in front of her eyes. If Hawk had shot that cop, he would have confessed. That’s who Hawk is.

“Mom,” I say, “Hawk is as good a shot as Falcon is. And Robin and I are pretty good as well. The one who never took to it…was Eagle.”

Mom blinks. “Eagle is good with a gun.”

“I’m not saying he’s not. I’m just saying he’s not as good as the rest of us. And…he’s the most erratic of the five of us.”

Mom says nothing.

Until, “Eagle wasn’t there, Raven. Only Hawk. So it must’ve been Hawk who Falcon was protecting.”

Oh God. My mother really doesn’t know what’s going on. But I’m not going to be the one to tell her. I can’t be the one to tell her that her baby—my baby—is the one who shot an innocent young police officer.

“Falcon swears it was him,” I say, robotically.

“Yes, I know.” She lays a hand over her heart. “But a mother knows.”

She’s right about one thing. Falcon didn’t shoot the police officer. But neither did Hawk. So a mother really doesn’t know. Maybe she’s just fixing the scenario in her mind in the way that makes sense to her.

“Did you know your father taught me how to shoot?” she says.

“No, you never said that.”

“I was a natural. But I grew up the daughter of Mexican-American immigrants. They didn’t believe in guns. They’d seen enough of them during their childhood in Mexico. When I married your father, though, he insisted that I know how to defend myself.”

“And you are okay with that?”

“I was more than okay with that. My parents’ philosophy never made sense to me. If they came from somewhere dangerous, why wouldn’t they want to exercise their right to defend themselves?”

I nod.

“So I let him teach me. He was a good and fair teacher.”

“I know. He taught me.”

“He and I both felt that all of you kids should know how to defend yourselves. We also taught you gun safety.”

“Yes. You did.”

“But the lessons seemed to fall short with Hawk.”

I regard the woman who gave me life. She can’t really think what she’s thinking about her second son. Hawk is one of the best men I know, and an excellent shot.

“Whatever happened, it was an accident.”

“Yes, I suppose?—”

I jerk.

No!

A gunshot.

We’re talking about guns and a fucking gunshot!

Jared jumps up from his chair in the distance.

Mom is gasping, screaming.

I turn toward the door.

The sound came from inside the house.