Page 100 of His Dark Vendetta

My hand shook on top of my mouse. I scrolled back week after week until I reached the second week of March. And a doctor’s appointment. The Monday after Vesuvio was held up and Anna was hit by a car. A doctor’s appointment I’d forgotten and missed.

My stomach bottomed out. I bent over the wastebasket and threw up the water I’d just drank.

This wasnothappening. Thiscouldn’tbe happening. I was forty-four years old. I missed one—one—shot. In ten years! Yes, we fucked like rabbits on Viagra for almost a week but at my age the probability alone…

No. The nausea had to be coming from something else.

I picked up my desk phone and punched zero.

“Front desk. How can I help you?”

“Brian, this is Siobhán. I’m leaving for the day. If anything comes up, I’ll deal with it Monday.”

“Understood, Ms. Connelly.”

I shut down my computer, grabbed my purse, and ran out of my office for the parking garage.

* * *

Across the living room,five plastic sticks of different colors and sizes were lined up on my dining room table. I bought one of every brand at the drug store.

I paced my living room, one arm wrapped around my middle, and clicked my nail against my front teeth, trying like hell to find the courage to go over there even though I already knew what those sticks would say.

I did the math on the way to Somerville from downtown. Three times. The timing was too perfect. Or too horrible, depending on your perspective. And that was just it. I didn’t know my perspective.

It was mid-June, and I hadn’t seen or spoken to Luca in over a month and a half. He hadn’t reached out to try and resolve things, but then again, neither had I. I thought about it, several times in fact, but didn’t have the spoons to deal with his drama on top of everything else.

My job search was on indefinite hold and so were my unresolved feelings for Luca. Everything had to wait while I took care of my family.

I stopped pacing and laid a hand on my stomach. My family.

I never considered having a family of my own. Getting married. Buying a house with a white picket fence. Having two-point-five kids and a dog. None of that was on my radar screen. I wasn’t one of those people who planned out their life to check off the arbitrary boxes that someone decided made up the American Dream. My American Dream involved two things—a self-made career and safety.

I also wasn’t one of those people who had strong feelings about kids. I never dreamed about having them, but I also never felt sad when it seemed like I’d missed my window. I’d never thought about it either way. But now?

I eyed the dining room table and the sticks that divined my future like so many crystal balls. If they were positive, would I be excited? Scared? Would I cry tears of joy or despair? If they were negative, would I be relieved or disappointed? And after I had my answer, what would I do?

My stomach flipped. There was only one way to find out.

ChapterThirty

Luca

The last thing I expected while sitting in my office Friday afternoon eating spuckies with Gio and Vinnie was a text message from Siobhán. She wanted to talk. At her place. My insides twisted into a complicated sequence of knots I couldn’t untangle. There was curiosity for sure, suspicion definitely, but also relief. One of us had ended the stalemate. No surprise she was the one to do it; she was the strong one.

I exited Route 1 into Charlestown and headed west toward Somerville, my unease growing with each city block. Which said a lot given how the past month and a half had gone since ending things with Siobhán.

Restless nights bled into routine days. The few-days’ reprieve from my nightmares vanished without her in my arms. All I could do to force myself to sleep at night was spend more time at Vito’s gym. I drove myself hard for hours on end until exhaustion won the battle against anxiety.

I threw myself into work. The Dollhouse hadn’t turned out that much profit in years, and the Source funnel to Terme di Boston was finally picking up steam. I worked every job Vinnie gave me—another big lift, thankfully free of cops, and the occasional shakedown.

I also threw myself into my endgame, determined to find evidence that Ciarán Shaughnessy was in bed with the feds. I had Leo tailing him almost every day. Unless I needed a distraction to fill my time. Then, I tailed him myself. Anything to keep my mind off Siobhán.

The most troubling change? I stopped feeding for pleasure. In fact, I went almost three weeks without feeding at all. Outside of my time in Vinnie’s warehouse, that was the longest dry spell of my life.

My fangs started aching after ten days, leaking venom and throbbing with need. By the end of the second week, my strength waned, and dizzy spells plagued my workouts. But I pushed through, driving myself even harder and relishing the pain and vertigo dulling my focus. With each passing day, the hollow pit in my stomach expanded until my survival instincts kicked in and I almost lost control of my inner predator. I turned one night after work in the parking lot at Starmarket, poised to attack an innocent woman walking out with a bag of groceries. It scared the hell out of me. I got in my car and drove straight home.

Mia came into my office the next night and offered her neck. She was worried about me and promised to keep things professional. I hesitated, some sick part of me wanting to prolong my punishment, like I somehow deserved to be blood-starved for letting Siobhán go, but my fangs’ persistent ache and the constant stomach pains were too much to bear. If I didn’t take Mia up on her offer, I wouldn’t last much longer before losing control.

---