Page 6 of Convenient Mafia Vows

On the subway, I had it all worked out. I was going to yell at him, vent my anger and frustration at losing another job because his itchy fingers and gambling debts follow me around like a lost puppy, but what’s the point? Besides, I’m done in.

Mason raises the packet of broccoli and peers at me with his one open eye. “I was going to pay you both back.”

He sounds defeated, and I should want to kill him to for dragging me into his problems again, but I just wish he would stay the fuck out of the casinos and do what’s right for all of us for once.

“Have you checked on Abigail?”

“No, he didn’t, but she’s fine.” Sienna walks out of the bedroom, glares at Mason, who is already checking out of the conversation. “What happened?”

“Long story.” I lower my voice; I don’t want to wake Abigail. Getting a cranky five-year-old back to sleep isn’t easy, and I’m not mentally prepared for another battle.

“You got fired, didn’t you?”

“I can still hear you,” Mason murmurs from beneath the slowly thawing packet on his face.

I usher Sienna into the kitchen and dump my purse on the counter. I don’t want her to worry about us, but I know that’s another battle I won’t win.

The burn scars on her neck and jawline are already turning livid, and she instinctively tugs the neckline of her sweater up to cover them. Sienna suffered third degree burns in a road traffic incident in the early hours of New Year’s Day five years ago. The driver, some guy she met in the same nightclub where I met Danny Zuko, climbed out of the wreckage and left her for dead; she only survived because I’d alerted the emergency services when I saw the missed calls on my cell phone.

Sienna’s version of events is that I saved her life, and I’m stuck with her. Which is why she’s here now, babysitting while I work, and Mason does whatever Mason does when he needs money to clear his debts.

My version is that I should never have left her in the nightclub that night to lose my virginity to Danny Zuko, the hottest man alive. The hottest man alive who must’ve been swallowed whole by a crack in the ground after I left him because I’ve never seen him again since.

I’ve looked. Believe me, I’ve looked.

That night changed everything, for both of us, and I’ll never stop trying to make it up to my best friend for as long as I live. Sienna wants to open her own art gallery, and one day, I’m going to make it happen. Even if I’m currently unemployed.

“What are you going to do, Vic?”

Sienna has offered to let me and Abigail, move in with her until we get straight, but I can’t leave Mason to fend for himself. What Killian did to him tonight would be nothing compared to the kind of mess my brother would get into if left to his own devices.

“I have a few favors I can call in.” I force a smile and fill the kettle to make coffee. “You look tired, Si. Stay over. We can makepopcorn and watch a movie.” I hate that I only get to see my best friend when she’s looking after Abigail.

It’s about time both of us caught a break, and I tell myself to stay positive. Perhaps the Universe had that break in mind when it allowed Mason to mess with my job tonight and almost get himself killed.

“I can’t.” Sienna leans in and kisses my cheek. “Get some rest, Vic, and tell Mason that next time he fucks up your life, I’ll do more than bust up his eye.”

Sienna sees herself out. I don’t even drink my coffee when it’s made. By the time I’ve showered and warned Mason that he’s taking Abigail to kindergarten in the morning, I can barely keep my eyes open.

Next thing I know, my alarm is going off, and I’m asleep next to Abigail on top of my comforter with a damp towel still wrapped around my hair.

I kiss her forehead and smooth her hair, the same color as mine, away from her rosy face. It’s the third time this week I’ve come home from work and left again without seeing her awake, and it hurts my heart. But being unemployed will only make our lives a hundred times worse because whose bed would she be sleeping in then?

Thirty minutes later, I’m walking into the lobby of the Wraith, feeling seriously underdressed in black slacks and a white shirt. Interview outfit. Minus the ‘lucky’ prefix. I’m a hard worker, but even though there are almost nine million people in New York, Mason’s reputation clings to us both like Velcro.

My flat pumps click dully across the black marble floor. I’ve been here a couple times, and it still takes my breath away. Heavychandeliers hang from the atrium ceiling reflecting a million tiny black stars across the floor and the glass façade, creating the kind of spectacular three-sixty image that wouldn’t look out of place in a Broadway show. Even the reception desk is sleek black with gold trimming, the woman sitting behind the desk dressed in an emerald and gold pantsuit.

I try tiptoeing, but it’s too late, the security guard has already spotted me and is heading my way.

“I’m here to see Denise Cartwright,” I blurt out before he can flash me a look that says I’m in the wrong place and I should turn myself around and march straight back outside where I belong.

“Vicky!”

Denise hurries over to me, taking control by encasing my hand in both of hers and leading me through a black archway that shimmers with gold and into the restaurant where she works as manager. Denise manages every food outlet connected to the Wraith and Caleb Murray’s ever-expanding empire.

She was also my mom’s best friend and her first NA sponsor when she was trying to get clean. It was Denise who introduced my mom to Quincy, her new husband, too. It won’t be the first time she has bailed me out of a situation created by Mason because she feels responsible for us, and I don’t like taking advantage of her, but needs must.

Inside the restaurant’s entrance, I breathe in the aroma of expensive coffee and chocolate and ignore my stomach growling back at me. Several tables are occupied by guests taking an early breakfast, and it would almost feel cozy if every item of gold-trimmed furniture didn’t cost more than I can earn in a year.

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