Chapter Twenty-Six
Sasha
When Sasha pulls onto Raffy’s property, she already knows something is very wrong, because the truck that’s sat unused for
years in the overgrown grass behind the house is covered in mud, and fresh muddy tracks lead from the main road and up the
dirt drive to where it’s parked. Raffy had his license taken away years ago after a few DUIs and he also never goes anywhere.
She doesn’t believe that he could harm anyone. She knows him too deeply. She also doesn’t believe that he has the mental capacity
to plan and execute murder, and why would he anyway? He doesn’t know Tia or Regan, or the woman who tragically died in the
car explosion that was likely meant for Regan. What possible motive could he have? How is he connected to any of this?
She stands next to the car for a moment after she parks in her usual spot and gets out.
There’s a fire fading out in the firepit, but no Raffy sitting next to it.
She doesn’t hear anything. What is she even hoping to gain out of this?
The truth, she supposes, before the cops, before investigations, dig up their past. She needs him to put all of the pieces of this mystery together.
She needs to be sure he’s innocent before she decides what her next move is—why has he been seeing Drew without telling her?
She knows why Drew did it, but why didn’t Raffy tell her when she pleaded with him, telling him Drew was in trouble?
The headband in the firepit. He has to have an explanation. She’ll never believe he has an evil bone in his body, no matter
what anyone tells her. Raffy is the love of her life. She can’t be that out of touch with reality that she never saw the signs
of a psychopath. She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath and then walks up to the front door to confront him. She prays
he’s not passed out drunk.
The door is locked, which is unusual, but she has a key, so she lets herself in. When she enters, the house is dark and quiet.
It has the familiar smell of alcohol and urine she’s used to, but something feels different. She can’t put her finger on what,
so she stands completely still in the kitchen and just listens.
“Raff?”
Nothing. Where could he possibly be? Her heart rate quickens, and she knows something is very wrong. She calls for him again.
“Raff, where are you?” When there is still no answer, she can’t help thinking maybe he’s drunk himself to death and/or that there’s a medical emergency.
She moves quickly from the living room to the small three-season porch at the back of the house, but she stops cold when she sees Raffy sitting there in an old armchair, just staring up at her, wide-eyed, not moving or speaking.
He looks possessed, and she’s immediately terrified and confused all at once.
“Please leave,” Raff says with a flat tone. His eyes are bloodshot and look wet with tears.
“What?” she says, stunned and utterly baffled.
“Sash, please. I’m begging you,” he says, looking over his shoulder and then back to her. “Go. Get out of here.”
“Raff. What have you done?” she says. He hangs his head.
“None of it’s what you think. You have to go. Sash, please, God. You . . .”
“Why, Raffy? What’s happened?” Then they both hear a bang. It sounds like the side screen door closing. “Who’s here?” She
looks at Raff. His eyes are desperate and pleading.
“I met the man who’s been blackmailing me for money—the man who set us up at the airport all those years ago. He’s back . . .
and I think he’s gone to a lot of trouble to frame me for Tia’s and Andi’s deaths.”
“Andi? Where is she?” she says instinctively, but as his words sink in, she knows it’s too late. She hears footsteps down
the hallway and then a figure appears in the door frame. He has a gun in his hand, and he looks shocked and panicked to see
her.
“Tom?” Sasha says, and for a moment she’s completely perplexed, her mind working to connect all the dots and understand how he is here.
Why? And then she sees the crumpled look on his face and watches it drain of color, and she knows in that moment that it’s him.
It finally sets in. It’s been him all along, and her showing up here was not a part of his plan.
She looks to Raffy, understanding now that he was warning her, and for the first time notices that he is tied to the chair he’s sitting in, which is why he hasn’t moved.
“Fuck,” Tom says. And then he screams it. “Fuck!”
Sasha doesn’t speak. She can’t. She just stands there, numb, and stares at Tom, who’s shaking his head and pacing, mumbling
to himself.
“This was never what I wanted,” he says, and she just doesn’t understand.
“I don’t . . . I . . . Why are you here?” she asks.
“Sasha, snap out of it,” Raffy says. “Your husband is the one who put me in prison. The whole family’s involved. The barbecue
place is a front. The father runs the whole . . .”
“Shut up!” Tom yells, hitting Raff in the side of the head with the butt of his gun—a blow so hard, Raffy moans in pain, and
Sasha sees a trickle of blood run down his temple. She screams and takes a step back, still staring, indescribably shocked.
Al. Tom’s dad. Runs an organized crime ring. It’s laughable. There’s no way this is real.
“You . . . sent Raff to prison. You were there in Mexico. I didn’t even know you then. That’s not possible. This is all a
mistake.”
“It wasn’t him that day,” Raff says. “It was some cousin or someone who works for them. But it was his doing. All of this
is.”
“I said shut the fuck up!” Tom screams, raising his gun again.
But Sasha screams louder. “No! Please!”
And Tom backs off. He sits down in a folding chair resting against the wall and seethes. He’s caught and he doesn’t know what
to do, clearly. He didn’t expect her to ruin his plans, and now what?
“Tom. This doesn’t add up. Please tell me what’s happening.” He looks at her with defeat in his eyes.
“Why did you have to come here? Goddammit.” Suddenly, he points the gun at her, and she holds her hands up and backs up a
few steps.
“Tom,” she says, fear surging through her body.
“I never wanted to kill you. I saved you, even. I was supposed to kill you years ago and I fought for you.” He keeps the gun
pointed at her and nods his head for her to move in the direction he’s pointing. She backs up and looks behind her.
“Go,” he says, and she obeys. She moves down the hall into the bathroom and he comes in behind her and closes the door. When
she can’t back up anymore, she sits on the edge of the bathtub in stunned silence for a moment. He kneels next to her.
“I never wanted this to happen. I love you, Sasha. You have to believe that. When Raffy stopped making payments to the family,
I was assigned to get rid of both of you. But I met you and . . . fuck. Sasha, you . . . It’s not my fault I was born into
a family of fucking monsters. I never wanted to be part of it. I did fall in love with you when I met you. I did. You have
to believe me,” he says, pleading, and she simply nods because she wants him to continue and also because she’s so astonished,
she couldn’t even form words if she wanted to.
“I wanted out. I begged to get out. I refused to hurt you, and I paid the family Raffy’s debt without them knowing so they wouldn’t send someone else to do the job.
All I ever tried to do was protect you and Chloe.
That’s all.” When she hears her daughter’s name, the state of silent shock turns into rage, and she feels her blood boil.
She starts to absorb everything that’s happening and knows she needs to escape no matter what it takes.
And the words “Raffy’s debt” add fuel to her fire, as if he owes them even more.
He was set up and did time and they still think the money lost when the drugs got confiscated is something we owe them.
The outrage stirs inside her, but she’s smart enough to arrange a look of empathy or compassion across her face—at least,
she tries to mask her fury in hopes that appearing on his side might be what saves her.
“So the debt was paid and we got married. Then how has all this happened?” she asks, her voice shaking.
“I bargained with them to get out of the family business. I told you I never wanted any part of it. I was trying to do the
right thing. I wanted to be a father—a normal guy. Run the restaurant, be done with all the rest of it—and they said they’d
let me if I took care of one last job.”
“What job?” she says, impassively.
“It’s not important—it just all went wrong. My brother is doing time because of Jack Hoffman.”
“But he’s dead,” Sasha says, scanning the room for anything she might be able to grab to use as a weapon, but she can’t find
anything of use.
“The family found out he wasn’t dead, but they couldn’t find him, so they figured if I got rid of Regan, that would punish him.
We moved to Cloverhill Lakes so I could find a clean way to do the job.
It went wrong. I was never cut out for this.
It’s never been what I wanted. I’m only telling you all of this because you’re here.
Because you’re in the middle of it now, and the only way out is if you can understand.
I did what I had to for us—to get away from the business without getting killed myself.
I had no choice. I don’t want to hurt you, Sash.
Please. If you can understand why I had to do all this, we can still get out.
Together,” he says. He’s holding her knees as he sits on the bathroom floor in front of her, begging her.
Sasha’s mouth is dry. She remembers how she recognized Jack when Regan showed her that photo the first time. Once there was
a photo up on Tom’s computer with all sorts of data, background check–type information, and she jokingly asked him if he was
a PI in his spare time. He brushed it off saying it was just a guy applying for a job at the restaurant, but he had a criminal
record. She remembers it because of the quick, nervous way Tom clicked off the screen and got up to do something else. What
did she tell herself about that behavior—has she been willfully blind about other things like that, other small oddities that
should have added up in her mind?
Then she thinks about Tia and still isn’t putting all the pieces together yet. She swallows and stutters over her words.
“And . . . T-Tia?” she asks.
“She was a full-time snoop. I’m telling you, Sasha, I’m never left with any choice. I didn’t want anything to do with her.
She came to the restaurant that night in her jogging outfit and she was trying to flirt with me. I didn’t reciprocate and
she said something about all men being cheaters and how she’d prove it. I went and got her order from the back and a couple
minutes later, I found her at the counter, looking through my phone I left sitting there. I guess it hadn’t timed out yet
and the screen was still open, so she just fucking snatched it like some entitled whore—she found some things she shouldn’t
have. She ran out without the bag of food. I had to follow. And it just made sense to leave her at Andi’s—she was terrible
to Tia. And they both deserve what they got. Tia could have ruined our lives. Do you get that?” he says. And then he puts
his head in Sasha’s lap, pathetically, and her mind is spinning.
He killed Tia and let everyone speculate that it was Andi, and all the while he’s been taking advantage of Raffy’s altered state.
He’s known about Raff, where he lives, blackmailing him for money all this time.
He probably planted evidence like the headband in the firepit.
Raff has a record, he’s unstable, he’s easily manipulated.
Tom could have gotten away with all of it if I hadn’t shown up.
Nobody would believe Raff, so there would be no reason to kill him, but Andi?
“You dumped her there. At Andi’s. To set her up,” Sasha says, putting all the pieces together, numb, terrified.
“Do you understand, Sash? Do you see that my hand was forced in all of this and I was just protecting us—protecting you?”
“Yes. Of course,” she says, because she wants to live, and if leaving with him and pretending is the only way, then that’s
her strategy.
Bang. The silence is pierced with a repeated crash like metal striking metal and then the sound of a woman’s cry.
“Help!” and the banging continues. Sasha knows that voice; it’s Andi. Tom leaps to his feet with a ghostly look on his face.
He rushes out of the bathroom and, before she can follow, swiftly locks her in. She hears him shoving a chair under the doorknob
and then the pad of his footsteps running out the back door.
The cry comes again, from somewhere outside on the property. Sasha knows it’s Andi, but she can’t help her.