I had to face the fact that I could lose him. No matter how strategically or artfully I laid the groundwork to reclaim my brother to my side, there was a definite possibility he’d reject all my efforts. I’d felt the probability of that outcome increasing ever since I’d gone to the diner with Sante. He was so damn idealistic. His desperation for our father’s approval was almost palpable. It made him blind to Dad’s faults, even the most egregious.
Sante wasn’t ready to hear the truth, but I’d run out of time. The reprieve Mom’s death had provided was at an end. Judging by Sante’s cryptic hint that Dad was moving forward with his plans, I had to make a decision. I could allow Conner to involve himself in my family drama and put him at risk, or I could step up and make the first move, which would almost certainly push Sante out of my reach, possibly forever.
I couldn’t guarantee how either scenario would play out, but it felt like having to choose between my husband and my brother—a choice I never dreamed I’d have to make. And I certainly never imagined, if faced with such a dilemma, that my brother would be the one I’d allow to slip away.
I’d laid in Conner’s arms as certainty warred with heartbreak, carving out a hollow chasm deep in my chest. I knew in my gut what needed to be done.
I had to choose Conner.
How could I ever hope to have a husband who would put me first if I wasn’t willing to do the same for him? That was why, when Conner asked about the reason for my mother’s death, I couldn’t tell him. Not if it meant he’d get involved. If he and the other Irishmen drew my father’s wrath, they’d all be in danger. It wasn’t worth it if I could handle the matter myself without putting them at risk.
With Conner sniffing around, interjecting himself, I needed to make my move.
Whether procrastination of the inevitable or exertion from the night before, I was slow to rise the following morning. Conner was long gone by the time I plodded into the shower. My limbs were filled with lead and the weight of responsibility. But offsetting the troublesome burden was an erotic soreness between my legs that reminded me of hope and better things to come. It reminded me that the reason for my decision was worth the potential consequences.
An hour later, I was ready to face my day, no matter what that might entail. I’d gotten such a later start that it was already approaching noon by the time I entered the kitchen. Stomach still churning to keep pace with my tumultuous thoughts, I only managed to force down a banana before I decided to get the ball rolling and call Pippa.
“Hey, sis. What’s up?” she answered warmly.
“I just need Uncle Agostino’s phone number.”
Silence.
“Whyyy?” she asked warily.
I had worried this would happen. “It’s not really something I can talk about.”
“Nope,” she shot back. “Not acceptable. Not again. You’re telling me what the hell is going on. I’ll be there in ten.”
I stared at my phone, the line dead. I never even had a chance to argue.
Well, shit.
Pip would see right through any lies, and I doubted she’d let it drop until she’d wrung something from me. I considered what I might tell versus hold back, but suddenly, it all seemed pointless. I was going to talk to Uncle Agostino as soon as I was done with Pip, so I might as well give her the truth.
True to her word, Pippa was at my door just over ten minutes later. As soon as she was seated with me at the kitchen table, I started from the beginning. The trickle of information became a burst dam, every incident, and emotion from the prior seven months spewing out from its prison deep inside me.
“That son of a bitch.” Tears pooled in Pippa’s eyes, but it was fury that sparked in her golden irises. “I’m glad you’re going to make him pay because someone needs to.”
“I know.”
“This is just too much. I need a fucking drink before I drive there myself and gut that pig.”
I huffed out a small laugh. “I could probably use a drink myself.” I was so damn worried about Sante and how this would unfold. If my father got word that I’d gone to the Donatis and my uncle didn’t act quickly, there was no telling what my father might do before he was stopped.
“What do you want?” I asked, scouring the liquor cabinet. “There’s loads of whiskey.”
My cousin grimaced, doing a full-body shiver.
“Yeah, same. Vodka or tequila?”
“He have any Patrón?”
“Ah … yeah, there is some in the back.” I got on my tiptoes to retrieve the wide glass bottle then brought it to the table where Pip sat with two plain shot glasses. “Salt and lime?”
“Nah.” She waved off the suggestion. “Feels too much like a celebration. Think I need the burn.”
I couldn’t argue with that. After filling our glasses, I raised mine in the air and threw back the clear liquid. Pip followed suit, both of us coughing as the fire scorched our throats.
Once we recovered, a heavy silence joined our little party.
“This whole time, huh?” Pip finally said, her voice hollow.
“Yeah.”
“I feel awful that I didn’t know.”
“You couldn’t have,” I tried to assure her.
She shook her head. “But I did, in a way. I felt like something was off about you not leaving the house. I just didn’t listen to my gut. Pisses me off.”
“Listen, I’ve known what he did for over six months and still haven’t done anything about it,” I said more forcefully, pouring us two more shots.
“How could you?” she gawked. “He kept you prisoner most of that time.”
“I could have found a way,” I muttered.
“We can’t play that game. Hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that crap.” She threw back her shot, and I did the same before turning on the stereo and syncing my phone to play music off one of my playlists. I had them organized by mood, and today called for the darkest, most depressing of songs.
“How are things with Conner?” she asked when the music started.
“Surprisingly well, actually.” Heat bloomed across my cheeks. I prayed she would chalk it up to the booze, but no such luck.
“Oh my God. You’re blushing. You guys had sex, didn’t you?”
I met her gaze, mine glinting with erotic memories of the night before.
“Hell yeah! That calls for another shot.” She grabbed the bottle and began to pour.
“Holy crap, Pip. You trying to get us blackout drunk?” I gaped at her but couldn’t fully quash the smile teasing the corners of my lips.
“Hey, if we’re lucky, we’ll forget how fucked up our family is.”
What could I say except, “I’ll drink to that.”
After that, I refused any more shots, but my near-empty stomach absorbed what alcohol I had consumed straight into my bloodstream until my head was spinning, and my brain-to-mouth filter had broken down. Pip and I talked about all the little things we’d missed chatting about during my absence. We’d covered the big stuff when we talked, but this was different. This was the way things used to be—talking about the dress she’d considered buying for a cousin’s baby shower and discussing why the new season of our favorite show wasn’t quite living up to our standards. Our conversation was easy and light and flowed like a summer breeze. That was until my phone began to ring.
“Oh God. It’s Conner.” My eyes bulged wide.
“Just don’t answer if you don’t want to.”
“Right, and get my ass spanked?” I bit down on my lips when I realized what I’d said, and we both burst out laughing. “Shh … stop it,” I hissed through my laughter. Picking up my phone, I took a deep breath and accepted the call. “Hello?”
“Hey. You have a good morning?”
“Uh, yeah. Pip came over, and we’ve been visiting.” I tried my very best to sound perfectly sober, almost cracking when my cousin doubled over in a fit of giggles.
“What was that?”
“Oh, just Pip being silly. What’s up with you?” I now had tears in my eyes from the strain of holding in my laughter.
“I talked things over with Keir this morning about your father, and we decided too many factors are in play to let you handle it. I said I’d consider what you said, but it’s not possible. We have a plan, though, and it won’t be much longer until he’s a distant memory.”
“Wait … what?” My sluggish brain struggled to process what he’d said. “A plan? You can’t plan when you don’t even know … No, Conner. This is … not at all … you can’t.” Emotion and alcohol jumbled my words until I couldn’t get out a complete thought.
A silence darker than shadow drifted over the line.
“You been drinking?” Conner finally asked, low and menacing.
I lifted my chin defiantly, though he couldn’t see it. “I’m a married woman. I think I can have a drink if I want to.”
“Care to tell me why you’d want to get shit-faced before lunch?”
“Nope.” I popped the P proudly. “If you get to do whatever the hell you want, then so do I. I mean, where do you get off? I chose you, Conner. Not Sante. You. And you’re just gonna go fuck it all up … I mean. Ugh!” My mini rant bubbled up from deep inside, a geyser I couldn’t hold back.
“I’ll be home in ten.”
The line clicked dead.
My eyes cut to Pippa, who had her hand over her mouth and brows touching her hairline.
“Oh shit,” she breathed.
Oh shit was right.
My cousin stood. “Well, it’s been fun, but I should probably go.”
“Sit your skinny ass back down.” I shot to my feet and pointed at her chair. “You are not abandoning me now. You brought out the liquor that made me flap my lips. You can stick around and act as my buffer.”
“Em, that’s going to be crazy awkward.”
I shook my head, one-hundred-percent adamant. “Nope. Don’t care. You. Are. Staying.”
