Love is a fucking trap.
Not because you’re lured in by lies and shackled by deception, but because once you’re in these damn restraints and your captor walks away with the key, you’re fucking stuck here forever.
I’m not stupid; I know it won’t get easier. I can only hope I’ll get better at hiding the chains.
The flames roar from the fireplace, their heat reaching out and grazing the front of my slacks. I stare down at the burning logs and take a sip of coffee. The finest Colombian blend, but it tastes as bitter as me.
Heavy footsteps echo through the walls, then Angelo darkens the living room doorway, his coat slung over his forearm.
Dry amusement lights his gaze. “And there I was, thinking I’d never see you in tailoring again.” I stare back at him. As he searches my blank expression, his humor dims like a candle slowly starved of oxygen. “You ready?”
Gritting my teeth, I turn back to the fire and pull the deck of cards from my pocket. Give them a lazy shuffle.
We both know he’s not asking if I’m ready to drive over to Cove, but rather, if I’m ready to be back.
Of course I’m not, but I can’t fester on the sofa with a bowl of candy balancing on my stomach forever. She’s gone. Just like I needed her to be.
I just didn’t think she’d take my entire center with her.
“Born ready,” I say dryly, brushing my thumb over the deck to create a satisfying thawp.
Angelo’s stare bores into my cheek for a few moments before he walks out of the room.
I shift my focus to the bay windows. There are three armored sedans and a cluster of well-worn men loitering around them. Gabe got me stabbed by our least-favorite cousin then fucked off the face of the planet. Clearly, his lackeys don’t know what to do with themselves in his absence, so they’ve joined the security team he assigned me.
Now that she’s gone, I shouldn’t need all the extra protection.
With a steadying breath, I give the cards another shuffle and fan them in my hand, face-down. I select one at random. If it’s the Ace of Spades—the luckiest card in the deck—maybe forcing her out of my life will feel like less of a massive fuck-up.
With a flick of my wrist, I’m looking down at a different card.
Letting out a hiss, I toss it into the fire and stroll out the room, leaving the Queen of Hearts to melt into the flames.
“There you are!”
I stop in the foyer and glance up the stairs. Rory stands at the top of them, dog in one hand, a bundle of fluffy fabric in the other. “Guess what? I bought us wearable blankets! Look!” She lowers Maggie to the ground and holds out what looks like an oversized hoodie. “They’ve got pockets! I can put Maggie in mine, and you can put the snacks in yours.” She pauses, watching her dog bound down the stairs and paw at my feet. “Or you can carry Maggie. She likes those ear scritches you give her.”
“Sorry sis, our snacking and binge-watching days are over.” Stooping down to ruffle the dog’s curls, I flash Rory an apologetic smile. “I’m back to work, and back on the steamed broccoli and chicken.”
She frowns. Runs an eye down the sharp crease of my slacks, like she’s only just noticed I’m not in sweatpants and ugly socks. Her confusion melts into delight. “Penny’s back?”
My throat tightens at the sound of her name. “No.”
“Then why the flamingo are you in a suit?”
“What?”
She glares at me like she’s hoping I’ll catch fire in the middle of the entry. “I’ve watched three seasons of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills with you. Let you eat my good snacks, let you pet Maggie. Do you think I was doing that to help you get over Penny?”
I shake my head in disbelief. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s because you’re an idiot. When you first showed up at our door, I told Angelo I wanted you out. But then I walked in on you watching the same football game on repeat, and I realized you were just in that in-between stage. You know, the bit that comes after deciding you can’t be with her, but before the part where you realize you can’t live without her?”
She crosses her arms, sneering at my suit. “The only reason you should be dressed nicely and leaving this house is because you’ve had that realization. And, like, now you’re rushing to the airport to stop her boarding a flight. Or, I don’t know, running to the church to stop her from marrying another man.”
My eyes narrow. “Penny’s getting married?”
Rory slaps her palm against her forehead. “Christ, Rafe. You’re really testing my patience this morning. Have you never watched a romance movie? You going back to work is not your Happy Ever After. You’re missing a few steps. Like, realizing that against all odds, you’ll still make it work, then doing a big dramatic declaration of love. Only then do you get your Happy Ever After.” She pauses before adding, “With Penny.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Sorry to break it to you, but life isn’t like how it is in the movies.”
Her gaze shifts over my shoulder, and I’m suddenly aware of my brother’s presence in the doorway behind me. “Yes, it is,” she says quietly.
I run my hand down my throat. Swipe a finger over my collar pin.
She’s right about one thing: going back to work isn’t my Happy Ever After, but I was never meant to have one of those, anyway. And no one makes romance movies about men who fall in love with girls who ruin their lives without even trying.
I tilt my chin, meeting her glare with a tight, humorless smile. “I guess you got lucky, then.”
Before I put my fist through a wall, I turn and stride out to the driveway. The sky is as gloomy as my mood, and the wind is as cold as my heart.
Angelo’s lazy footsteps crunch over the gravel behind me.
“I’ve got to drop off some paperwork at the port first, so we’ll take separate cars.” His focus drops to my curled fist. “Don’t drive yourself off the cliff now, will you?”
“You better hope I don’t, brother. You’ll never navigate Tor’s sleazy contracts without me.”
Despite the January frost creeping across the windshield, I pull out of the grounds with all four windows rolled down, partly because Penny’s scent still seeps out the walls of my car, and partly because I’m hoping the sharp wind will slap some sense into me.
No more fucking moping. I told Angelo I was back and now I just need to convince myself that I mean it. Gripping the steering wheel, I force myself to focus on what lies in wait for us in Cove. I wasn’t joking about Tor’s sleazy contracts. My legal documents might be confusing, but his are just one big, fat loophole, designed to trip up anyone who’s stupid enough to sign on the dotted line.
Last night, he agreed to handing forty-nine percent of Cove over to us, but I know in the cold light of day, he’ll blame that on the concussion, then shove some terms and conditions, loaded with a million get-out clauses, under our noses.
A weak zap of energy crackles down my spine. This is exactly what I need—to bury myself in business. Heated meetings, spreadsheets, plans for bigger and better events. Anything that makes the memory of red hair and deep blue eyes fade.
The drive is uneventful, except for when I spot a copper-haired girl walking down Main Street and I slam on my brakes. Or when my fingers twitch to connect my cell to my car’s Bluetooth because listening to Penny’s calls while driving alone has become second nature.
Even if I caved and opened the Sinners Anonymous inbox, I know there’d be nothing new for me in there. I’ve been obsessively checking, and, unsurprisingly, she hasn’t called the line since I told her I owned it.
As my car climbs the hill to the church, a familiar Harley winks at me from underneath the willow tree. Frowning, I glance at the sedans in my rear-view mirror and slow to a stop.
What the fuck is Gabe doing here?
I feel out-of-sorts walking up to the old building, like I’m going to find something dark and depraved behind its heavy doors. Guess that’s why I slip my gun out of my waistband as I step inside.
The dust has been disturbed, dancing in the small slivers of light that have broken through the boarded-up windows. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the shadows and hone in on the imposing silhouette sitting in the front pew.
My footsteps echo off the vaulted ceiling as I walk down the nave, but Gabe doesn’t turn around.
I sit on the opposite end of the pew. Gaze up to the Virgin Mary judging us from above the altar.
“You’re a massive cunt. You know that?”
No response.
I let out a tense breath, running my palm over the wound on my stomach. It’s barely tender anymore, and the physical scar will be no bigger than the length of my thumbnail. But the mental scar of being stabbed by Dante, of all fucking idiots, is large and gnarly.
It’s not like I won’t get over it, though. Besides, only a week before, Gabe saved my life.
“Well, I accept apologies in check-form only.”
As my joke prickles the silence, my words feel hot against my own ears for two reasons. First, it sounds like something Penny would say, and second, my brother still hasn’t moved.
He sits with his hands resting on his thighs, spine rigid, his face fully concealed by the shadows.
And suddenly, seeing him like this, I realize how much progress he’s made over the last month. Ever since the port went boom, I’ve seen glimpses of his old self, the brother he used to be before that one Christmas. He’s spoken in full sentences, even learned how to use his phone. And I swear, I’ve even seen him smirk from the other side of a dining table when I’ve told a shitty joke.
I’ve been so wrapped up in everything Penny, I haven’t realized how big a deal it is.
I clear my throat. “Anyway, it’s old news. Wanna come to Cove with Angelo and I? He’s worried about you, man. Besides, we’ll come to an agreement with Tor a lot quicker if you’re playing pit bull.” I pause as the silence snowballs down the pew. “I’ll even let you punch him. Not with full power, though. The bastard won’t get back up.”
Finally, his gruff voice comes from the shadows.
“It was meant to be fun.”
I grit my teeth. “And it would have been, had I had my Glock, and had you turned on a fucking light.” When he doesn’t reply, I rake my hand through my hair, shaking my head. “I should have let you deal with Dante and his men your way.” I glance down at my knuckles. “Combat is your thing, not mine. Besides, I should have known you were more likely to torture the chess pieces than play them.”
The boards on the windows shudder. Jesus and his cross sway from a rusted nail behind the altar.
“I still have him. Griffin too.”
Christ. I let out a slow hiss, my thoughts filling with that fucking cave. The shadows from the fire dancing on the craggy walls. The screams that echo off the sweat-drenched ceiling. Dante’s been in there for two weeks, Griffin even longer. It’s like something out of a horror movie.
I know why my brother is telling me this. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s back to regular programming for me,” I say dryly. “Give them both a good kick in the nuts on my behalf, though.”
I stand, and the silhouette shifting in the darkness tells me Gabe does too. As he walks toward me, something about the uneven patter of his footsteps instantly raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
When he steps into the dim light, my chest clenches. “What the fuck, Gabe?” I mutter, instinctively reaching for the grip of my gun. “Who did this to you?”
He only stares at me through the swollen slits of his eyes. He’s a bloody, bruised mess. Busted lip, blackened cheekbones. Fuck, looking like this, I wouldn’t recognize my own brother in a police line-up.
As I search the empty pews for an answer, the realization hits; he’s Gabriel Visconti. No one could get close enough to him to do this much damage.
Unless he let them.
“Why?” I grit out.
The thick trunk of his throat bobs. He avoids both my stare and my question. “I’m going away for a while. I need…” He shakes his head, like he’s ridding his brain of noxious thoughts. “Dante will be dealt with, and my men are all yours.”
He pushes past me and limps down the nave. I’ve gotten used to my brother leaving without warning over the years, but after everything that’s happened over the last month, it doesn’t feel as easy to watch him go.
Suddenly, he stops. “You didn’t deal with the girl.”
My shoulders tense. Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse, hearing Penny’s name, or hearing her reduced to the girl.
“I did.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. Just not in the way you suggested.” I swallow. “She left town.”
“No she didn’t.”
The fuck? “Christ, Gabe—”
“She’s in her apartment watching that film that makes everyone cry.” He glances back at me. “On repeat. At all hours. With that scruffy kid from across the hall.”
Confusion and something hotter bites at my edges. “What?” I shake my head. “And how the fuck would you know?”
“Our apartments share a wall.”
I stare at him. There’s too much to unpack in one brain dump. I’d love to know why the fuck my millionaire brother lives in a shitty walk-up on Main Street, but I’d like to know how, and why, Penny is still in town more.
Didn’t Rory say she left her neighbor a goodbye note?
Before I can respond, Gabe pops his knuckles at his side and continues walking. “You must have really liked her to give her the watch Mama gave you when you opened Lucky Cat.”
I’m too distracted. Can barely hear him over the pounding in my ears. “I didn’t give it to her; she won it.”
“Did she win Mama’s necklace, too?”
My gaze slides down from the rotting beam to his. “What?”
“The four-leaf clover necklace. Did she win that off you too?”
But by the dry humor dancing behind his swollen eyelids, I know he already knows the answer.
