Page 57 of Thief of my Heart

I shrugged. “Best they could, I think. But cerebral palsy can have a lot of complications. Sometimes, with the way the body grows, things don’t come up until later. Four years ago, Tommy started having really bad seizures. Like sometimes they would stop his heart.”

Her hand pressed to her heart as if in response. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. He was on meds, but he needed this risky surgery to fix the problem. But the state insurance wouldn’t cover it until he’d tried all the meds he could.”

She sucked in a breath. “So it wasn’t for Paul Reyes. Stealing the cars, I mean.”

Damn, she was quick. Had a mind like a damn calculator.

“No,” I admitted. “He did have a debt—I didn’t lie about that—but it wasn’t that big. The Mancusos offered to front me the money for Tommy’s surgery if I finished the other jobs.”

I didn’t need to fill in the rest.

“So…did he? Did he get the surgery, at least?”

Feeling like my tongue was tied into a knot, I shook my head, pointed to the date on my chest, and stared back up at the ceiling again.

“September sixteenth, two thousand,” Lea read. Her voice warbled a little. “He died?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “One of his seizures stopped his heart. While I was stuck in Rikers.”

When I finally had the courage to open my eyes again, a tear slipped down my cheek. I couldn’t fucking help it. I tried not to talk about Tommy, and this here was exactly the reason why.

“Better you know now what you’re getting,” I said quietly. “That’s what I got running through my veins, Tess. A father who murders. An addict mother who abandons. And I’m already following in their footsteps. A thief with a record. No fuckin’ good.”

Before I was even finished, Lea had gripped my chin and forced me to turn my head toward her. I almost shut my eyes again to avoid that arrow-tipped gaze. Fuck, she really could see right through me.

But she was so brave. She was taking me on when the whole world told her not to. Let me spill my secrets. Give her the heart of what I really was, ugly though it might be.

I could at least listen to whatever she had to say in return.

So I looked back, and that was when I saw tears that mirrored my own, creating a bright sheen over a green gaze that was as direct as ever.

As strong as ever.

As mine as ever.

“People are so much more than their parents, Michael,” she said solemnly.

I blinked. “You—do you really believe that?”

“Absolutely.” Her voice was low but fierce. “I’m proof of it. And so are you.”

We stared at each other for a long time, two broken souls somehow melding into one.

I didn’t believe in miracles until that exact moment.

Until she taught me how.

She held my gaze until my breathing returned to normal. Until the tattoo on my chest didn’t feel like it was burning anymore, and my heart rate dropped to its slow, regular rhythm.

“Come here,” I said roughly, pulling her back down to me.

I kissed her harder than I intended, then rolled her onto her back and kissed her some more.

“Michael,” she whispered again and again as I started to make my way down her body. Her fingers threaded into my hair. “My Michael.”

I could only hum in agreement. What else could I do? The only other option was to acknowledge the way her few questions, her no-nonsense manner, and her beautifully open face were ripping down every fence I’d been hiding behind since I was barely able to walk. Declare that, for better or for worse, I was, in fact, her Michael now. In all honesty, I probably had been from the beginning.

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