Page 52 of Warped

Chapter Twenty-two

V

In utter turmoil, and only wanting to see X, I ran from the courthouse. My mind was spinning. I wanted to go into denial, to pretend the past hour hadn’t happened. Hatred filled me toward that fucking son-of-a-bitch who’d come in to tell the story of what had happened during my mother’s death. Vincent. He’d been there that night. Had held a gun to our heads, just as the rest of my father’s right hand men had done. Someone must have put pressure on him to come in and tell what had happened, knowing it would make me an unreliable witness. Now the case would be thrown out before it began. I wouldn’t be testifying, and my father would walk free.

The idea of him walking these streets, a free man again, struck fear into my heart. What would he do to me—his daughter, the rat? I’d be made an example of, I was sure. He might have paid X to kill me, but that had been before he’d been able to do the job himself. I was sure he’d now do whatever was needed to make sure I’d suffer, and to let everyone know no one got away with ratting on Mickey Five Fingers, not even his own daughter.

Caroline Bailey had said his paperwork was already being processed, so it would only be a matter of hours until he was a free man once more. My fight or flight response had gone into overdrive, panic soaring through me. My father had the biggest patch in the city, with the most men. As soon as he was able to call them all together, I was sure he’d have two plans of action. One would be to find me and take me to him. The other would be to find my sister. Would he think she’d betrayed him as well by going to Tony? Or would he allow her a little leeway and forgiveness because of her age, and simply because she had always been his favorite? She’d been his sweet little girl, where I had always been the one to push boundaries, to fight him. Maybe we were more alike than either of us would want to consider.

I ran out onto the street, toward where X had parked the car. I wanted to be with him desperately, as though by being in his presence he would somehow make all of this magically disappear.

But as I approached the vehicle, my stomach dropped. The car was empty.

“Shit.”

I drew to a halt, my hand in my hair as I looked around. Where would he have gone? I was sure he wouldn’t just up and leave me.

I fished into my pocket for the disposable cell he’d given me. X had programmed Harvey’s cell phone number into it, so I pulled it up and hit the call button. With the phone to my ear, I listened to it ring until finally voicemail cut in, and a dead man’s voice sounded in my ear. I ended the call—not wanting to leave a message in case it incriminated either of us at a later date—then hung up and called again. It rang and rang, but still X didn’t pick up.

“Come on,” I begged. “Where the hell are you?”

He’d known I would need him after my meeting with the lawyer. I was sure he wouldn’t leave and not bother to answer the phone. Threads of unease wound their way around my gut. Something must have happened to him for him not to contact me. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him again. It would be the end of me. I only had so much strength, and I didn’t think I had it in me to suffer both losing X again, and my father being released.

At some point, I would crumble.

I called the cell phone again, praying for a miracle, and started to walk down the street. I didn’t know what I was looking for—some kind of clue. My footsteps grew faster, my panic and fear rising. What if my father’s men had already heard he was getting out and were watching the courthouse? They must have known something would happen after Vincent went in and gave the statement about me being the one to kill my mother. I didn’t doubt for a moment that my father had been behind Vincent’s confession. I bet he’d threatened Vincent’s family in some way. I doubted Vincent would willingly own up to being present during a murder if he hadn’t been pushed in some way.

Voicemail sounded in my ear, so I hung up and hit the call button again. I was praying he’d answer and laugh, and tell me I was acting crazy. I continued to hurry down the street, hoping I’d see him step out of one of the numerous cafes, perhaps holding a coffee cup for me as well, so he’d been unable to answer.

But then I passed the opening to a little side street—barely more than an alley, and something made me pause. There was plenty of noise around me—from the passersby who were giving me curious glances at the frantic expression on my face and the hurried way I moved, to the cars passing by on the road, to the underlay of distant sirens that were always present in the city—but beneath all of that I heard something else.

A phone ringing.

My breath caught in my chest, my heart pounding. I traced back the couple of steps I’d taken, and sure enough, the sound of a ringtone grew louder. The phone I held in my hand was also still calling, but then a moment later it hit voicemail once more, and the faint distant ringtone I’d heard also stopped.

With shaking fingers, I called Harvey’s cell phone again. My ears strained, listening hard. The ringtone started up again.

Oh, God. Where was X? Did he still have the phone on him, or had he lost it somewhere, or, even worse, had someone taken it off him and thrown it to minimize his chances of calling for help?

I turned and walked a few more steps. I reached the opening of the side street, and the phone suddenly grew louder. Glancing down, I saw the shape of someone lying on the ground.

“Oh no!”

Breaking into a run, I sprinted down the alleyway. My heart was in my throat. Blind panic racing through my mind, with only one thought over and over. Please don’t let him be dead. Please don’t let him be dead …

I skidded to a halt beside him, dropping to my knees. Frantic, I searched his face for any sign of life. His skin was spattered in red blood droplets, but I couldn’t see where the blood had come from. I had a sneaky suspicion it didn’t belong to him. His eyelids fluttered, and my whole body sagged in relief. He wasn’t dead.

“X,” I said, gently giving his shoulder a shake. I didn’t want to be too forceful in case of injuries I couldn’t see. “Hey, X. Are you okay? What happened?”

He gave a groan and then his eyes opened fully, revealing the clear blueness of them that had always grabbed my attention. His hand lifted to his head. “Ah, shit. Where did he go?”

“Go?” I glanced around as if suddenly expecting someone to materialize. “Where did who go?”

“Johnny. Your old boss from the bar. Hell, he could have killed me, but he didn’t. He was asking after you, trying to find out where you were.”

That was the last name I’d been expecting. “Johnny? Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course, I’m sure. I had a conversation with the guy.” He winced again, sucking air in over his teeth. He started to sit up, but I put out my hand. “Shouldn’t I call the paramedics or something?” I noticed a smear of blood on the ground beneath where his head had been, more blood matted in his short, light brown hair.

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