Page 101 of Forced Vows

I tell her the truth. "That takes way too much manpower." I put my hand up when she opens her mouth to speak. "Yes, I can toggle it on from my own devices, but you have my word I won't do it unless you are in danger."

"Imminent danger," she clarifies. "Mob families are always in danger."

She might be young, but she's not ignorant. "Imminent danger," I agree.

"And my cousins can use the app too?"

"A modified version, yes. If you want, we can install it on your grandmother's phone and even your uncle's. The app's privacy settings allow each of us to exclude them from all, or part of our activity as we choose."

She nods, like once again, that lack of complete trust is believable and makes sense to her. "I don't want Uncle Brogan on it. Or Mick."

"That won't bother Kara?" No way in hell would I allow Róise to be on an app like this without me on it too.

"Why should it? He's not part of our group texting now. And my uncle would only use it to compile information on your family."

Is she even aware of how she's protecting me…us, already? Róise won't betray her uncle to us, but she won't betray us to her uncle either.

There's a streak of loyalty running through her that's bone deep.

Chapter 33: RÓISE

I need a new mattress.

This one is too hard. Too soft. Something. I can't get comfortable.

I flip onto my back again, stretching my legs out. With an offended meow, Pusheen rises and saunters to the edge of the mattress.

"I'm sorry," I tell the cat.

She ignores me and jumps down to the floor. A second later I hear the rustle of something soft sliding across the floor. Sitting up, I try to see through the dark shadows.

It's Pusheen, pulling her cat bed. I can only make out the outline, but there's no mistaking what I'm seeing.

"Sheesh," I complain. "Are you a drama queen."

She doesn't stop until the bed is against the far wall. Well, that told me didn't it?

My new friend is fed up with all my tossing and turning for sure.

But I can't turn off my brain and it's this darn mattress's fault. Which might be a touch of self-delusion, but that's not all bad.

We all practice some level of self-delusion. Or so some claim.

I've read a lot of psychology books, trying to help Fiona. So has Kara. We compare notes. We're not experts, but Fiona can leave the mansion now and six years ago, right after my dad's death?

She couldn't leave her room. It's hard for her, but she never gives up pushing on the boundaries of her life. I wish I was as courageous.

If I was, maybe I would have taken mamo's offer to get me a new identity so I could disappear.

That's only one of the things that keeps playing wash, rinse, repeat in my brain. I choose to stay and that makes me complicit in this marriage deal.

Also, every time I close my eyes, I replay those hours in the boathouse.

Not the sex.

Okay, yes, the sex. But more the after sex. The birthday presents that mean too much.

A specially made taser I'm scared to touch. I mean, it's basically a mini cattle prod and I'm no cowgirl.

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