“Thanks.” I glare at him, but then I relent. “I’ll figure it out. You need to stay out of this, and so does my mom. Thank you for trying to help.”
I’m sincere about that one. From the way his expression relaxes, I can tell he knows I mean it.
“I know a place you can go. It’s a rental my cousin owns that’s vacant right now.”
Mob? Empty place? It’s a safe house. It’s what I need, but Shane more connected to my life is the last thing I need.
“I’ll post guards around the block and the four surrounding ones. No one is getting near you. Your mom can check on you or even stay with you. You can rest there for as long as you want. It’s furnished, so everything you could need is ready for you.”
I want to claim it’s against my better judgement to agree, but it’s probably the only sound judgement I make tonight. “All right.”
I say nothing else until we get to the house. It’s in one of the nicer parts of the Bronx. It surprises me it’s here. As in, I’m surprised it’s the Bronx, and the house is so nice, considering I spotted a deserted train station like two blocks from here.
I hadn’t listened to Shane talking to a guy he called Joey as my mom handed over her keys. But I guess his bodyguard arranged things because I spot the cars with men assigned to my detail in them. It’s not like black sedans line the street. I just know what to look for, which means I’m searching for anyone watching me, but doesn’t work for Shane. I sense they’re there, but I see no one. I’m silent while he points out the cars I already spied. I remain silent the entire way to the safe house until Shane helps me back out of the car.
“Let me help you inside, then I’ll leave you alone with your mom. Do you need anything?”
“Just sleep. Shane, I’m sorry I dragged you into this. And I’m sorry about the way I’ve acted.” All three statements are genuine.
“You’re in pain. I’m certain those ibuprofens didn’t even take the edge off. I don’t blame you for being testy.”
“That’s a nice way to call me a bitch.” I smile, but his gaze hardens to the piercing shards of emerald they did when I confessed about my fictitious ex.
“Do not call yourself that. No one gets to insult you.”
“Then you won’t like my self-deprecating sense of humor.” As though he’ll ever hear it.
He sweeps his gaze over me before he locks his with mine. “One of these days, you’ll push too far, and I’ll push back.”
Shitty metaphor, all things considered. But I get it. I dip my chin before I let him help me inside. I don’t move past the front door. Blessedly, he gets the hint. He hands the keys to Mom, gives her a kiss on the cheek, nods to me, and leaves. Just like that. He parted with the last word. For now.
Chapter Three
Shane
What the hell is going through that woman’s mind? I could see the cogs turning, but I couldn’t hear what she was thinking. She’s got a poker face better than anyone I know who isn’t in a syndicate. But I knew each time she devised a lie. Her tell was she had no tell. I know her frustration toward me helped mask the pain, so I encouraged it. But she was artfully hiding a ton of shite.
I shouldn’t care beyond the fact she’s Meredith’s daughter, and Meredith is a close family friend. I shouldn’t care that I could murder whoever hurt Carys, and no one would know. It would mean that person can never go after her again. I didn’t lie when I said whoever beat her took it personally and will be back to finish the job. I don’t believe it was some ex. Maybe, but I don’t believe it. Something about our push and pull made me wonder if she’s into kinky shite like I am. If she is, and her partner got pissed for whatever reason, she would have already been in a vulnerable position.
I have a million more questions like how’d you get away? How’d you get onto my site? Is the piece of shite alive? Where is he?
My parents and aunts and uncles drilled it into my cousins, my brothers, and me you nevereverturn a blind eye to someone who can’t defend themselves. We do enough evil without contributing more by ignoring those we can protect. It doesn’t matter if they’re not “our people”—mob affiliated.
They’re also extremely strict about not swearing in front of women and children. We can get away with shite now that we’re all in our thirties, but fuck? Fuck no.
Feck.
That’s what we’re allowed to say in front of women, nothing in front of kids, and only to each other. If we swear at each other and say fuck, they’ll find a bar of Irish Spring and scrub our mouths clean.
My mind’s wandering as I sit in the car outside the safe house. I got in after Meredith locked the door—I listened for it—and I’ve stayed through all the shifts. It’s nearly five, and I’m wide awake. I’m not searching the streets, trying to see as many blocks down the road as I can. I did that for the first hour. But I’m attentive, even if my thoughts drift.
Why is she such a good liar? Does Meredith know she was lying and said nothing in front of me? Doesn’t Meredith know Carys lied through her teeth?
I’m supposed to be at Dillan’s house to work out with the others, but I texted Sean to say I wouldn’t make it. They all know what happened. We had a six-way call after the concert. I don’t even regret missing it since I helped Meredith. Carys is a burr up my arse, but I’m still glad I was there.
What the hell is Meredith’s daughter doing with some shitbag who beat her? What the hell was Meredith’s daughterdoing anywhere near the site? How the hell is the woman I found Meredith’s daughter? The odds aren’t ones I’d take to Vegas.
“Tommy, look.” I point toward the front door.