Chapter 14
Casey
Sheila and Declan are definitely keeping something from me.
The problem is I have no idea what.
It’s just a vibe I’m getting. Like there are some gaps and holes in the story I was told. It’s a feeling more than anything else, but it’s bugging me.
I stew for another day. Declan drags me into a few of his family meetings, and I get a feel for his role in the business.
It’s clear he’s deeply respected and even feared by most of the people who come to see him.
He wields considerable power too, and at one point promises certain political outcomes will definitely happen, given enough money.
Like he can bribe the entire New York legislature.
That evening, instead of heading home, I grab an Uber over to Aunt Sheila’s place. I let myself in through the front and call out, waiting to hear a reply, but there’s nothing.
She’s always playing bingo at the union hall a few blocks away around now. Which means I should have an hour before she comes back.
I stand around the living room for a minute. Even though I don’t live here anymore, this still feels like home. I was raised in these walls. I spent so much of my life right here. And now somehow I’m making a life with a strange man in an apartment that’s not even remotely my own.
I let out a long, shuddering sigh. A month back, Natalie and I watched an Indiana Jones movie right on that couch together. She’d never seen Raiders of the Lost Ark. Doesn’t hold up, she’d said afterward, which was like sacrilege.
I miss her so fiercely it hurts.
I’d let her talk shit on all my favorite movies if it meant having her back, even for just one more night.
I wipe my eyes and head up into the spare room. A bunch of junk is stored in the closet. I pull out boxes of old files, papers, books, and pictures, and I start rifling through it all.
I’m not even sure what I’m looking for.
All my life, my parents existed as vague memories. Sheila rarely talked about them and only when I asked. They both died in what I thought was a car accident, but now I’m learning they were murdered because they were criminals. And it was some crazy psycho assassin who pulled it off?
But that doesn’t tell me why they were targeted or who they were before they were ripped out of my life.
I have only vague images. My mother ripping open letters with a pair of scissors and laughing when she cuts her finger.
My father in a white tank top and ratty jeans washing the car in front of the house while a boombox plays.
My father laughing at the TV. My mother hugging me tightly and telling me to sleep.
Disparate images, but nothing crazy. Nothing that might make me think I was raised by a couple of master organized crime members.
The spare bedroom is a bust. There’s nothing good. Just the same stuff I’ve seen over the years. Pictures of my parents and me at Disney when I was around eight. Pictures of my dad holding me on his shoulders down at the Jersey shore. A photograph of me in soccer clothes.
From the outside, it looked like we had a normal life.
I’m tired and feeling heavy by the time I drag myself off the floor. I’m about to put everything away when I hear a noise from downstairs that makes me go very still.
Sheila shouldn’t be home yet. She rarely leaves early. She always says, a quitter never hits it big, not in bingo, not in life. And she basically never wins.
There’s the noise again. A thump of a cabinet closing. I drift to the door, stomach tightening. I hear ice hitting a glass.
Someone’s making a drink.
“Hello? Aunt Sheila?” I go to the stairs and listen. There’s no answer. “Are you home early?”
I drift down the steps. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Clearly, she just left before bingo was over for once.
But instead of Sheila, I find my fiancé standing in the kitchen.
He’s got Sheila’s bottle of good whiskey at his elbow. He lifts his tumbler to his lips and takes a sip. I stare at him, not sure what the hell is happening right now.
“Did you follow me here?” I blurt out.
He tilts his head. “Yes, I did.”
“You’re not even going to try to deny it?”
“I could lie if you want.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” I’m so outraged, and I’m not even sure why. “What are you doing here, Declan?”
“Making sure you weren’t doing something stupid.” He takes another sip. “Which you are.”
I glare at him, barely controlling my anger. “I’m allowed in my own house.”
“Nobody said you weren’t.”
“So what’s stupid about this?”
“It almost seems like you forgot there’s a very talented killer on the loose who happens to want you dead.”
My hands ball into fists. “Don’t try to scare me.”
“Maybe you need to be scared, princess. You don’t seem to be thinking clearly anyway.” He puts the glass down and comes toward me. “What don’t you understand about staying under my protection?”
“I was just visiting my aunt.”
“While she’s at bingo?”
My lips twitch with surprise. “How did you know that?”
“I know everything about you, Casey. I know when you wake up, when you fall asleep, what you dream about. And I know your aunt will never win that damn Coach bag for as long as she lives, mostly because she only hears half the balls that get called.” He stands in front of me, tall and beautiful. I’m so pissed I could scream.
“Why are you hiding things about my parents?” I hope the abrupt change in conversation will knock him off guard, but it doesn’t have much of an effect.
He only continues to stare at me, saying nothing.
“What did my parents do to make Senesi hate them so much? What did they really do? And why’s he coming after me? ”
“Your parents sent him to prison. That’s all I know.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Ask someone who was there.”
“Why do you know all this? And why does Sheila act like she and you are familiar with each other?”
He leans in closer. “None of this matters.”
“It does to me.”
“You can’t sneak away anymore, Casey. Not until we’ve dealt with Senesi.”
“What happened to having freedom? Isn’t that what we discussed?”
“You can’t be free if you’re a corpse.”
“Stop trying to scare me.”
He reaches out and takes my arm. It’s not painful, but it’s firm. “You need a little fear in your life.”
I yank away and take a step back, my heart racing. He doesn’t move to come after me. “I’ve been terrified every second of every day since I found Natalie stabbed to death. Don’t you talk to me about needing fear, you asshole.”
His expression softens a touch. “Then listen to me. Don’t go places alone. I can assign guards if that’s what you need, but this is about keeping you alive. I don’t want to lose my wife before I’ve even had her.”
The strange, desperate longing in his voice makes me pause. Why does he care so much? What’s so special about me that he’s acting like my death would break him?
Most of the time, Declan couldn’t care less about anything but his work. He’s been treating me like a pair of hands and a set of tits for two years. But now suddenly, it’s like he can’t stop looking at me, and the attention is painful.
It’s almost as scary as this whole Senesi thing.
“Just take me home.” I turn my back on him. I can’t stand that look anymore.
“Are you going to be good?”
“I’m not a dog.”
“I wouldn’t marry you if you were.”
I yank open the front door. “I won’t be stupid at least.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
This trip didn’t reveal hidden secrets or anything like that, but it wasn’t a total waste.
Now I can be sure that Declan’s tracking me somehow.
And he’s also strangely obsessed with me.
But most of all, I’m positive that I’m missing something, and I’m determined to find out exactly what.