Page 49 of Sinful Attraction

“The answer is gonna be whatever it’s gonna be, man. The only things I’m sure of right now is that you didn’t steal that money, and I didn’t steal that money.”

I’m glad for his support, but the answer doesn’t help. The conversation dissolves into catching up. Small talk. I want to tell him about Arya, but I can’t.

Two beers later, I walk into the family room, unlock the bar, grab a good bottle of whiskey and a tumbler I probably don’t need, and go back to my room to try and forget things for a while. It’s cowardly and probably a little self-destructive, and I know it. Right now, though, I really don’t care.

A friend told me once that sometimes, the best you can do is wait and see with people. Watch them, pay attention to what they say, and see how it matches up with what they do.

That’s all I can think of to do in this Maria situation. When we tried to find information about her friend before, we’d found exactly nothing. I figured that was proof that he was innocent and uninvolved. Arya seemed to think it means his Internet record has been scrubbed, meaning he’s even more suspicious.

I’m letting her chase the truth for now. Maybe it’s cowardly, but at least I’m not getting in her way.

Do I really have a blind spot when it comes to my family? Maybe. The thought of that betrayal, beyond every other piece of misery I’ve suffered from my sister, haunts me. I can barely face it.

She’s still my sister. Can she just go and forget that I’m still her brother? How does someone even do that?

“Impossible,” I mumble. Arya has to be wrong. “She’s a little shit, but she’s not a Judas.”

And yet, here I am, dwelling on it, and drinking myself halfway into a stupor before I can stop myself.

I have a good buzz on by the time the conflict and despair finally start to ebb away inside of me. I have some blues playing—Eric Clapton—and I think I might even be able to sit through a family dinner later without getting into any arguments.

Galvanized by the liquor, I emerge from my room in search of snacks, only to hear shouting coming down the hall from my sister’s room.

“What the fuck is this now?” I mutter to myself as I approach her door.

I know it’s a bad idea to get involved, but my mother’s been asking me to keep an eye out when she has guests over—especially the one—and it sounds like she’s arguing with a guest.

I should really leave her to it, I think, even as I’m reaching for the doorknob.If she’s gotten into conflict with one of her friends, it’s her problem.And probably her fault.

I decide to stop and listen and determine what to do after I’ve had an earful of what the issue is. Whatever else happens, Mom can’t say I haven’t done my job as this idiot’s brother.

The first voice I hear is a man’s: “I don’t care what you fucking say, you stupid fool, you promised me ten percent, and I’ve only seen half that. I want my money, and I want it now, or I’ll walk out there and—”

“You will do no such thing.” That’s my sister using a tone I have never heard from her before. Harsh, angry, firm, and years older than I am used to hearing.

I freeze, my heart pounding.What the fuck is going on?

She goes on, her voice like a whipcrack, “If you go out there and start talking to my family about what we have been doing, you will end up dumped off the end of a pier with a bullet in your head. These are mobsters, you idiot!”

He doesn’t seem to get it. “I have done my work for you. I have taken risks for you. I got all of this done, and you could not have done it without me. The agreement was $500,000 dollars. Ten percent. Not five!”

“I understand that, asshole. And if you call me a ‘fool’ again, I’ll call in security and tell them you grabbed my tit.”

I’m breathless. Doing the math confirms it. Ten percent of a $5 million dollar take.

My $5 million dollar take.

My throat closes up, and my gut suddenly clenches around all that alcohol like I’m about to throw it all up against her bedroom door.No, I think.No, no, no.

Arya was right. I was wrong. In the worst way possible.

“You wouldn’t dare,” the whiny-voiced man growls.

“You know what? You’re pissing me off so badly that maybe I’ll just do that anyway and have you thrown out.” Maria’s not throwing a tantrum. She’s standing up to the guy with a cold assertiveness I didn’t even know she was capable of.

His voice rises enough that I could have heard it down the hall. “Maybe I’ll just strangle you in your bedroom so you can’t call out to anyone!”

I go cold, and my hand clenches around the doorknob. Alarm bells are going off in my head. Those are not the words to say to my sister, no matter what in the hell she is up to.

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