Page 2 of Merciful Lies

I smile back and shake my head. It’s not a big deal that she almost knocked me down.

Actually, it might have been the most exciting thing to happen to me in weeks.

Well, there was that coffee Eric brought me the other day, but that hardly counted.

Eric is a Firefighter who came in to buy French bread for the house every Tuesday.

I’d known him for years and read nothing into it. Eric is just a friendly guy.

I stand there a moment longer than is appropriate, just watching the young woman as she talks animatedly into her phone.

The car pulls away and I feel guilty for wishing we could trade places.

It’s New Year’s Eve and I have no plans, nowhere to go, and no one to dress up for.

Boring.

My life is so boring.

The sound of Pancake meowing greets me as I push the door open. The bag of dough I took from the bakery bangs against it, and I make cooing noises to my kitty.

Pizza sounds like fun, and I like homemade best. That way I can control the amount of sauce and cheese.

I know it’s weird, but I really don’t like a lot of greasy cheese on my pizza. In fact, sometimes I just use a little grated pecorino romano and skip the mozz altogether.

“Come here, Pancake. I got something for you.”

I pull the package of fresh salmon I picked up for him earlier and grin when he pounces on the countertop

He’s the prettiest kitty I ever saw. All golden, just like a pancake, or so Sammy always said.

Sadness slithers into my heart like a serpent ready to strike, and I close my eyes for a moment against the feeling.

I don’t want to be sad. New Year’s Eve is all about new beginnings, and I truly hope wherever he is, my brother is making a fresh start.

But those hopes die the second I hear pounding on my front door.

Pancake laps at his salmon as I cross the room and pull the door open, undoing my three security locks first.

“Sammy!” I shout, taking in his bloody form.

There’s a big, brooding man behind him, heavily muscled and covered in tattoos.

“Anna,” my brother rasps, and I walk him to the couch.

“What is going on?”

“Your brother owes some money to my boss. He says you can make good,” the behemoth rumbles.

“What? Sammy?” I sputter, trying to get my brother to look at me.

“Did you beat him?” I ask.

“He knows better than to take money from the Vipers,” the man says with a cruel twist of his lips.

Oh shit.

The Vipers?

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