Chapter Twenty-Nine
LOLA
I could kill him.
Downstairs, there's the sound of pleading from fucking asshole Enzo and shouting from poor Lyndall.
She told me she has music lessons.
No doubt right now Lyndall can't wait until she gets to play. She once told me everything is absorbed by the music, and if that's her escape, then she deserves it.
I flop on my bed. I'm so fucking angry right now! But worse than that is the disappointment that weighs a thousand pounds. My heart is too heavy and too broken.
And what kills me is that I can't blame just myself or Enzo.
This is my fault because I decided to trust him when I had so many reasons not to. He showed me his true colors so many times, but I kept using tinted glasses to paint him the way it suited me.
But this is also his fault for this whole huge bag of lies and half-truths.
Fuck. I'm pulled in a million directions.
And I can't stop aiming some of the anger at my dad and at her mom for this.
I know Lyndall is around eight years younger than me. I also know her mom was young. What I don't know is how long the affair was going on.
All these lies and half-truths.
I can now sort of understand why Mario hated Dad. Why he might hate me.
What I don't get is why he took a baby in as his own and then took pleasure in treating her as he does Lyndall.
Sure, he's macho mafia and a brute. I'm beginning to see they all are. And I guess sucking up and taking another man's daughter as his own is better than admitting his second wife had an affair.
But Lyndall is innocent. She always was.
Then again, so am I. And I got blackballed.
Enzo? All these lies and issues of control—not the sex kink ones, but the real-life ones, they kind of show he can't change blood. And he hasn't fallen far from his father's tree.
So, I have to ask, is he only keeping me around because I'm a vessel for his heir?
The moment the thought comes, I feel dirty, gritty, and like I need a shower.
I might be a vessel for his heir, but his obsession for me is real.
Thing is...obsession isn't love.
But could it be? One day?
I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. "Who the fuck knows?"
Do I even want it to be?
That question is one I steer clear of.
And then I come full circle and smash straight into all the lies again.
How long has Enzo known?
He hates his dad, probably because there may be a lot of similarities. But I thought Enzo was different in all the ways that matter. He has empathy, humor, a good heart.
Or he did. Once.
Or maybe he just fooled me into thinking he did.
I close my eyes.
No, he does. I've seen it with Squish. And with his sister.
His sister?
My sister.
That floors me. But in my heart, I know he's her brother in all the ways that count.
We might have the same blood, Lyndall and I, but we're close friends, and I'll never replace her sibling. I don't want to.
Hells, this is a big mess.
I rub my chest, trying to rid myself of the hollowness that seems to be burrowing me out. I have no idea how long Enzo has known. And asking him won't get me anywhere, either, because how can I be sure he will even tell me the truth about that?
The conversation, if you can call the shouting fight conversation, didn't have the raw and combustive edge of anyone finding out news right before coming into the house.
Enzo sounded like it was something he was saving to take out on his father.
When the perfect opportunity arose...
He did.
So, why even try and ask? I'll just get lies.
And so, that hollowness remains and grows.
The worst part—or one of the worst parts—is how intent he seems on destroying the trust and smashing the slate.
I thought we were somewhere different.
But here we are, thick in the swamp of lies and half-truths.
Only this time, he has brought his sister down into the treacherous waters with me.
I open my eyes, trying to blink the blur of tears away as I attempt to swallow down that hot lump sticking fast in my throat.
If he's destroying my trust, what about Lyndall? She's a teen, and she loves him, trusts him. Or she did.
To her, he is the one steady thing, the one person who cares about her, notices her, loves her.
And he has just made it sound like a lie. Like she was always an outsider.
I'm aware I'm coloring that. I don't think he meant to, but the sheer act of lying to a kid full of hormones who is trying to carve a place as she learns who and what she is...well, it's devastating.
I look at my phone.
Lyndall's lesson should be done by now. But I didn't hear the door.
And the girl is like clockwork.
In a way, she has to be since her whole world, like mine, is run by Enzo.
That old resentment rushes back in, harsher than before.
I get up, and as I search the house, I find I'm alone, and there are only the guards. Including the one called Rich.
He comes into the office after me.
I look at him. "Have you seen Lyndall?"
He hesitates, like he isn't sure he should talk back.
"Please. She's not in her room. And her violin isn't here." I look around. "Who's in charge of taking her to her lesson?"
A muscle moves in his jaw. "Antonio. He's a new hire. For here, that is. I vetted him, as did Con. And..."
He looks at his watch, and the tick in his jaw muscle works harder.
"What is it?"
He doesn't answer, and I shove my feet into my shoes as he goes to the door and pushes the buttons to unlock it.
I shadow him.
When he steps out, I follow.
I'm so sick and tired of men taking away my autonomy, of them bossing me around.
Suddenly, he turns. "Go back inside."
"No."
"Fuck..."
"I'm going with you. It's either that or you have to carry me inside. And if you try that, I'll scream."
He rolls his eyes a little. "Fine." Rich gestures to a car, and a young, black-haired man gets out and lopes across the road. "What's up?"
I shove Rich, who is twice as wide and twice as tall as I am, to the side. "Where's Lyndall?"
"She has not finished her lesson. She will call when she is done, Ms. Marino."
"Mancini." It's a small detail, but it's a way to take control of my life again.
Alarm bells are clanging in my ears.
I look at the house next door.
What the hell? These guys aren't letting me out of their sight, so I dodge past them both, down the stairs, and go in through the gate of the other brownstone, up the stairs, and ring the bell of the first floor.
It takes a while, but finally, someone opens it.
It is another fucking man. This one with big, round glasses and floppy, sandy hair.
And those alarm bells are ringing out a three-alarm fire alert.
He frowns. "Where's Lyndall? Her music teacher let me in and said she would be here shortly, but—"
I push past him, as if pregnancy has suddenly given me a superpower and I can push men around now. I hurry down the hall, past a staircase, but it's blocked off, and there are paint cans and a ladder, all dusty, sitting there. I turn right into the apartment door that's open and...
No Lyndall.
Just her violin.
My skin crawls.
Did she get taken? I can't see her leave without it.
I turn again, and this time, I push up the staircase, knocking over the paint cans and ladder.
I check the other floors, but they're empty, and there's nowhere to hide.
My fingers are nerveless, and my heart beats too fast as terror ripples through me.
I don't care that Enzo is planning on renovating this, I don't care that the first floor is set up with furniture and is set to be her school room.
All I care about is that Lyndall is gone.
I come down, running into Antonio, and I grip his arms. "You were watching. You must have seen something."
"I did not see the girl. I watched for intruders and anyone taking her. No one did. Two people left. One in a hoodie, and then later the music teacher."
I shake him hard. "And who was the person in the hoodie?"
"The previous tutor. I took over from Con. She was in. That's what I was told and—"
I stop listening and run, hard.
I'm frantic, vaguely aware the guards follow, and I get back in the house, another guard at the door, waiting, phone in hand.
I snatch it from him and call Enzo.
"I'm busy," he snaps. "So, unless the house is on fire or you're under attack, deal with it."
He doesn't know it's me, and I don't care.
"You better get unbusy," I snap.
"Lola?"
"Because Lyndall's missing."
"Fuck. Stay there."
And he hangs up.
I pace for so long I'm almost shocked there isn't a groove worn in the floor. I keep trying Lyndall, but her phone is off.
I noted the panic in Enzo's voice.
He might be in a panic, but I'm not. At least, not anymore. I've calmed down, and this fits in with Lyndall's MO.
If anyone can make an escape, it is her. She just never had to run from Enzo. Until now. She has run from her father—from Mario. And that's the thing.
She might be related to me, but she also has them in her veins. Osmosis or whatever. What do they call it? Nature versus nurture.
She's been there, absorbing it, learning from a powerful family.
But I keep trying her while Enzo is out there, hopefully looking for her.
And then my phone buzzes.
Enzo
I know you hate me right now.
I look at my phone. "Nailed it."
Enzo
And I'm sorry.
Me
Don't apologize to me. You owe that to Lyndall.
Enzo
Please don't run.
I almost ask how.
Sure, I don't want to live a life in fear and always under lock and key.
I know he thinks I'm in danger. And maybe I am. But he's got me well protected, and I had the big attempt at running that didn't end well.
So, even if I could, I'm not going anywhere.
Yet.
If I do leave him, I'll work out a plan. But I need to be calm before I go there. Truly calm.
Besides, there is Squish.
I have to think of our baby.
This isn't just about me anymore.
And even though I'm so angry at him and hurt that it is hard to see straight when I allow those thoughts in, I still believe he loves this being growing in me.
We made this baby, we need to work out the rest. Whatever that may end up looking like.
And hearts are treacherous.
So, I text him back.
Me
Find her.
Enzo
I will. I promise. Cade and Silas are trying to locate her, too. And I've already called some of the guards. Don't worry, you're protected. And I showed you how to use the safe room.
He has. But I don't want to just sit up and wait around doing nothing.
I keep pacing.
And because I can't stand it, I try and call her again.
But it just goes to voicemail, and I'm beginning to think the phone has been dumped.
Shit.
My phone rings, and when I answer, there is the clink of plates and voices, the hiss of an espresso machine in the background.
And I know who it is from the slight sniffle.
"Lyndall?"
She's gone and got herself another phone. A burner.
"Please tell me Dad or Enzo aren't there."
I take a breath. "Enzo's out looking for you."
"Please...please come and meet me. I'm at Happy Jim's Bean and Bar. It's two blocks from the house."
"How? You know Enzo has got people here. We can get you—"
"No. I don't want to see him. Or Dad...Mario. I hate them both. If they come near me, I'm gone, and no one will see me again. I'll live on the streets. Become a stripper."
I roll my eyes. "No, you won't. But I can't leave."
"You can. The back courtyard has a hidden gate. I used to play back there when I was young. It's not meant to open. Enzo fixed it, but I unfixed it last year. I wanted to go see a concert."
I can almost see her blush.
"But—"
"Take some sheets that are in the washing machine. I forgot to put them in the dryer. I just got them, anyway. So hang them up outside. That will help hide you, and then just go out through the gate. They won't notice until it's too late."
"You shouldn't be out there, and neither should I. Enzo might be a lot of things, but I don't think he's lying about the danger."
"I won't speak to anyone but you. Please."
Her voice cracking does it. I can feel myself crumble.
"Lyndall..."
"Lola, you're the only one who understands." She sounds like she's trying not to cry.
And that wraps around my heart and squeezes tight.
I lean on the washing machine in the laundry room. "This isn't about that. It's safety."
I'm not sure she's listening.
"And you're the only one I'll talk to. And I need to talk this out. I know you'll understand. You've been screwed around just as much as I have by this situation."
"We can talk. Here. It'll be fine. Everyone's so worried about you, so come home."
"I don't have a home," she snaps, her voice breaking.
"You know what I mean."
"I don't, Lola. How can I belong when I've been lied to my whole life?"
"Coming back here just means we can talk in a safe place." But I already know I'm going to meet her there.
I hook the phone between my shoulder and ear and get the washing. Sure enough, there's a line outside, so I start hanging the sheets. Badly, but I hang them.
"Lola, I don't need that kind of safe space. I need this one, with actual distance between me and Enzo. I just need someone to talk to."
I get where she's coming from, I do. And she came with me when I ran.
My mind is already made up, anyway.
"Okay, I'll come. But on the condition that you come home with me after we've spoken."
"Deal."
I leave the phone, undo the gate, and slip through.
Hopefully, we'll be back before anyone notices I'm missing.