Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
I’ve never driven as fast as I am now, speeding toward the cottage and trying to think of how I can even begin to apologize to Lucy.
The things I’ve said and done to her might be unforgivable, and if she refuses to take me back, I’ll understand.
I won’t let her go, but I’ll understand.
Best-case scenario: she’s missed me, and she’s mad for a while, but we move past it.
Worst-case scenario…she’s chained up in my estate until Stockholm syndrome kicks in. Either way, we’re it for each other.
As soon as I open the front door, I know I’m too late.
She’s gone. The cottage looks the same as when I last left after taking her brutally against the wall.
Her cheery paint and multicolored pillows are dystopian when combined with the knocked-over furniture and broken picture frames, still lying in heaps of glass, victims of one of my recent rampages. Jesus, I’m an asshole.
Her things are still here, from what I can tell, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
She’ll come back. Where else could she go?
She doesn’t have anyone else. Nausea rolls through me as I realize that whatever pain I thought I had inflicted is likely worse than I could imagine.
Regardless of what lumps come my way, I know I have a support system behind me.
A big one, now that Kat’s married our family to the Sinclairs.
Lucy thinks she has nobody. Well, she thought she had the Sinclairs, too, before I did my best to rip that away.
She’s not coming back, and you know it. Logic tells me her things are here, but my gut is loud in my head, imploring me to accept what I can feel in the cottage.
She’s gone for good, stuff or not. I’m bracing my hands on my knees and trying to formulate a plan when the door swings open violently, slamming against the wall.
“Sasha? Have you seen Lucy?” Blanche strides into the room, in as much of a rush as I’ve ever seen her.
I try to speak, but all I can croak out is one word. “Gone.”
A beat of silence passes, and I hang my head. I know it’s my fault, Blanche knows it’s my fault, and I…
My thought fades away as the cold contents of Blanche’s giant water cup hit me in the face, startling me as I rise to my full height.
“Get it together, Sasha, good Lord! I swear I never had to work this hard for any of the other kids,” she huffs. “If she’s not here, we need to move. She sent me a text about how she’s going back home, blah blah.”
Back home? To California? If she left all her things here to cut and run like that…fuck, she’s never going to forgive me.
“Alright, it looks like the last location her tracker pinged was Jack’s house! I suppose she’s finally figured out that he’s her brother…it looks like she went to the airport earlier, but she must have had a change of heart. We’re lucky we’re so close. Come on, you can drive.”
Blanche looks up from where she’s tapping away on her phone to see me staring, mouth open, water dripping onto my forehead from where she splashed me.
“You’re tracking her? Wait, you know about her and Jack being siblings?”
She rolls her eyes and moves to the linen closet near the bathroom, pulling a towel out for me to wipe my face with.
“Of course I know! I knew the whole time. I’ve had eyes on that girl her whole life, and really, dear, you all should have seen the resemblance. It’s uncanny! Now come on, we need to move. Get your keys!”
Blanche hustles me out the front door as I grab my wallet, keys, and gun.
“And don’t even think about going digging for yours. You’ll never find it, and trust me, there might be a day when you’re happy that I know where you are!”
I don’t have a response to that. Peeling out of the driveway, I’m thankful I drove my fastest car today as I speed the short distance to Jack’s house.
If Lucy is there, I hope Jack has taken the news that he has a half sister well.
Maybe they’re hugging and crying, with Jack sharing stories about their dad from when he was little.
Although, now that I think of it, I think he hated the fucker and was abandoned by him at a young age, so maybe not.
“Oh good, it looks like Ledger has come to see Jack as well! Maybe once we’re there, I can call Henry to bring your sister, and we can have a celebratory dinner tonight. You haven’t had my special roast yet, but it’s everyone’s favorite, and…”
Blanche continues, and I catch the words “Christmas stockings,” “babies,” and “security perimeter,” but all I can think about is how much I hope Sunshine is okay.
I can’t share Blanche's optimism that she’s having a happy family reunion with Jack right now.
Maybe it’s the fact that I know how badly I’ve fucked up, but there’s a deep sense of foreboding in my gut that I can’t shake.
Before long, we’re at Jack’s, and Blanche has ordered mine and Lucy’s matching Sinclair Christmas pajamas.
I think she’s also named our firstborn, but all I can think of as I slam the car door and run up the steps is getting my girl back in my arms. Pounding on the front door, Ledger finally answers.
“Hey, man! Hey, Mom…what’re you guys doing here? Did you talk to Lucy already about what we found out?” Ledger eyes us with confusion, but moves aside when I push into the house.
“Is she here?” I ask desperately, already sensing, based on Ledger’s comment, that my Sunshine isn’t here.
“Hey guys! Did you come for dinner? Margot is pretending to cook while she heats stuff she had catered.”
“Jack, have you seen Lucy?” I’m desperate now. “Blanche, can you cycle the tracker? If she isn’t here, we need to move.”
“No, I haven’t seen her. It’s been a quiet day here, except earlier when some strung-out looking guy came by and tried to tell me he kidnapped ‘my sister’ earlier and threatened to extort me—”
“What model tracker is that, Mom?”
“I told him he was barking up the wrong tree since I don’t have a sister, unless he was talking about my wife, and he seemed disturbed…I probably could’ve phrased that better. But Margot is here and definitely not kidnapped—”
“It’s a BD797.”
“Oh, you have to let me upgrade you. The 800 has a much better range—”
“He said we’d all be sorry, and he was going to kill her, and I said go ahead! I need to call the police and report a crazy person in the area—”
Crack.
The sound of my fist shattering Jack’s nose is enough for everyone who had been talking at once to shut the hell up, but the silence is short-lived as I scream at him.
“You told him to kill her? What the fuck is wrong with you!” I tackle him to the floor, but before I can punch him again, Ledger is pulling me back.
“Kill who? The imaginary girl the whackadoodle thinks he kidnapped?”
“Your sister! Lucy! The love of my life, who’s been kidnapped by an enemy of my family, of which there are many, because we’re the goddamned bratva, and she was supposed to be safe with your family! And she was here, Blanche tracked her, and he offered her to you, and you told him to kill her!”
The way he’s looking at me isn’t fearful enough for my taste, or remorseful enough, and I realize I’ve been masking myself too well around all the Sinclairs. They have no idea who I really am, or what I’m capable of.
I elbow Ledger in the face to release me and go back to pounding the shit out of Jack. Ledger tries to step in, but the two of them are no match for me in my rage. We all spar for a minute before Blanche stops us all in our tracks.
“She’s at a motel near the airport. If you’re all done scuffling, we need to make a plan.”
Her tone is curt, and I’m glad she seems to understand our dire situation. If Lawrence manages to take Lucy out of the state, or the country, it’ll be much less likely we get her back alive.
“Is nobody going to explain why we think Lucy is my sister?” Jack’s sitting on the floor with a bag of frozen peas on his busted lip.
“We know she is. But we don’t have time for that right now. Blanche, if you’ll drive, I’ll coordinate with my men to have a team meet us there.”
Planning is the only thing keeping me calm right now.
If I let myself fall into the worst-case scenarios streaming across my mind, I’ll be no use to anyone, and Lucy needs me.
I lead the way out, holding the door open for Blanche and tossing her my keys.
I don’t look back at Jack, unable to stomach looking that fucker in the eye.
Just as I move to slam the passenger door and start making calls, Ledger tumbles out of the house and sprints to the car.
“Wait! Wait…I’m coming too. Scooch over.” He barely gives me a moment to react before folding himself into my lap and managing to shut the door behind him. Blanche takes the opportunity to speed off, slinging us both into the side of the door as Ledger’s huge boot collides with my shin.
“Why the fuck did you just cram yourself into my two-seater? You could’ve followed us there! You don’t even need to be involved at all!”
He’s distracting me from my focus, which needs to be getting as many of the guys within range of this motel to take Lawrence out once and for all. It’s hard to think with Ledger’s bony elbow under my ribs.
“You’re in my lap, man. Don’t delude yourself.
And you might find I’m more helpful than you think.
I should have time to jailbreak that tracker before we get there and have a more detailed location within the hotel.
Plus, you know, even if Jack just found out about Lucy, that still makes her family.
Family means something to us. You’re not going in without the Sinclairs behind you. ”
Blanche punctuates Ledger’s statement with a sniffle and a pat on my knee.
“Plus, Jack finally got his head out of his ass. He’s right behind us.”
With a sigh, I turn back to my task of shooting off texts and activating my men. Even if Jack and I are going to have some more shit to work through, especially if a single hair on Lucy’s head is harmed, it’s comforting to feel like I might have a real chance at joining this family.
None of it’s worth it unless we’re successful, though. It’s time to get my Sunshine back.