Page 111 of Volatile Vice

Jared sits beside me in the last pew of the grand, old-world Catholic cathedral of Austin. Muted colors from the stained-glass windows scatter across the sanctuary, and the air is thick with the scent of incense. Dark fabrics drape over the pews and altar, and black candles flicker throughout the church. Large, ornate floral arrangements in white and red roses—which, combined with the green of their stems, make up the colors of the Italian flag—are strewn about the space.

I can’t help admiring the polished mahogany coffin in the center of the church, which is flanked by towering candle stands with a simple white rose bouquet resting on top.

“They certainly spared no expense,” I whisper to Jared.

His face is grave. “They probably do a lot of funerals in their line of work.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. So I don’t.

Jared’s presence has become tolerable. More than tolerable, to be honest. I’ve grown to consider him a friend. I have someone to talk to when I need it, and he’s been helping me with my foundation, which is great.

All the paperwork has been filed, and the gala is planned for about a month from now.

One of the best hotels in Austin.

Celebrities, politicians, all the elites have been invited.

I expect it will be a splash.

I tried to speak to Vinnie before the service, but he walked away when he saw me.

I’ll let him have his grief. He deserves that much.

And maybe… Just maybe it’s time to let go.

I have my whole life ahead of me. A life I wasn’t sure I’d get to have.

I can’t waste it on someone who doesn’t want me.

After the service, Jared and I walk out of the church, avoiding the receiving line. I don’t want to look at Vinnie. I’m only here because my brother is engaged to the daughter of the deceased.

As we reach the parking lot, I hear a buzz from my purse.

I reach in, but it’s not my normal phone that buzzed.

It’s the burner.

I’ve been carrying it around with me just in case the Uber driver—or whoever is on the other end—needs to get in touch with me.

Jared’s eyebrows rise when I pull it out. “What did they say?”

I pull up the text. Three simple words send my heart into violent tremors.

You’re in danger.

38

VINNIE

Savannah and I get through the funeral and the burial, though I’m not sure how.

Later, when I’m driving my father back to prison where he will surrender himself, I ask him something.

“Mom was trying to tell me something about you, Dad. Do you know what it was?”

He raises his eyebrows. “No, I have no idea.”

“She wasn’t making any sense.” I scratch my chin. “First she said something about Grandfather. Then about you. She said she had to tell me, and then the alarms started going off on her machines.”

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