Page 63 of The Secrets We Share

“When?” I keep it short, my tone stiff with indifference.

“Saturday. Noon. The pub at pier eighty-three. Don’t be late, and bring your lapdog.”

The line goes dead before I can confirm our attendance.

“Looks like we have a meeting to attend this Saturday. Think he’ll bring your father?” I ask Harkin.

“I don’t believe a word that comes out of that man’s mouth at this rate. I’m not even banking on the fact that he’s alive anymore.”

I hate that it’s a possibility. Not that what happened to Harkin’s father falls on us in the slightest. He got himself and his business into this mess long before pulling us in to save his ass. Even if he is alive and Domenico hands him over, he’s still wanted for his white-collar crimes. After his experience being held by Domenico and tortured by his men, he’d probably look forward to a minimum-security prison.

“Speaking of your family, have you checked on your mom lately? How’s she doing?”

“There’s no contact with the patients for the first sixty days. Her doctor says she’s sober, but it’s been rough. I think the psychiatrist is working overtime to sort through everything with her. I hope it sticks, but at the same time, it’s not like she can be completely truthful about everything.”

“If he walks away from this, what do you think they’ll do?” I ask, genuinely curious about how the other half deals with their issues.

“Disappear to a country somewhere with no extradition treaty with the US. Would he bother with my mom? Fuck if I know.”

“Can I get you guys anything else?” the waitress interrupts.

“No, thank you. Just the check, please.”

Harkin doesn’t wait for the waitress to return, dropping a stack of bills on the table. “I don’t want to worry about any of that right now. We have bigger things on our plate.”

It’san odd feeling living life day-to-day without much of a purpose. There’s no more work, no running errands—shit, I don’t even clean the apartment. Now that we’re back in the city, Harkin’s fallen into his norm. Things seem to get done, and I’m pulling out my hair from boredom. There’s only so much working out and scrolling through socials a girl can do. I feel more cooped up here in the city than I did in hiding in Colorado.

The meeting is in forty-eight hours. Harkin and James have hardly come up for air. I gave up trying to piece together what Domenico might drop on us there. Even our best guess couldstill be wrong. What’s the point of wasting energy just to chase our tails?

I run my fingers through Cinder’s thick fur as we sit on the couch and watch the drizzly day from our glass box.

“You know, I never thought I’d want to leave the city, but I miss the mountains. I bet you do, too.” I give her an extra scratch behind the ears. Unfolding my legs from under me, I stand and walk to the windows overlooking the street below.

People mill about below, moving from one thing to another. I’m jealous of their ability to do so freely. I’m sure they’re all saddled with mundane worries, like what to make for dinner or how to pay that overdue bill. I suppose in that way, I’m lucky. Even without a job, money hasn’t crossed my mind.

I’ve somehow become a kept woman without realizing it. That thought alone shocks me into a mental spiral. One so deep I don’t hear his footsteps approach. When strong arms band around my waist, and a scratchy chin settles in the crook of my neck, he pulls me into his hard chest.

“There you are,” he says softly.

I let out a huff of laughter. “Where else would I be?”

He must hear the tinge of annoyance in my words. I’m spun quickly and pushed against the cool glass. “What do you mean by that, sweetness?”

His eyes fill with concern, and that’s the last thing we need when everything else is concerning on a nuclear level.

“It’s nothing important.”

“Everything about you is important to me. Spit it out.”

“I’m dying.”

At my statement, his eyebrows crease. Words pursed at the tip of his tongue as his mouth falls open.

“Of boredom, Harkin. I’m tired of being stuck inside. Of having nothing to do.”

He studies me before saying, “You want out of the apartment.”

“I don’t think your leash would let me get very far.”

---