Page 15 of Connected

“Man, get that shit out of your head. You’re looking for someone to blame when the truth is, Pilar’s a junkie. She knows where to get her shit and if it wasn’t Pablo it would’ve been someone else. You put a drug dealer in a room with people looking for an escape, the dealer is gonna score— all Uncle Vic did was set the stage for what he knew was inevitable.”

He goes silent and my mind drifts back to Pablo’s last words.

I didn’t know she was yours.

Would it have made a difference if he knew she belonged to me?

“Fuck, you’re in love with her,” Rocco accuses.

I lift my gaze to his. For a fleeting moment, after Pablo uttered those words, I wanted everyone to know she was mine, including the guy I considered a brother. Then reality settled in and I remembered this life I’m living ain’t meant to be shared with a woman or . . . a child.

“She was pregnant,” I reveal, scrubbing both hands over my face. After a moment of silence passes between us, I brace myself and drop my hands to my sides.

“What do you mean, was?”

“She had an abortion.” The words sound just as foul as they did when I handed her the money and told her to get rid of it.

“Jesus, man,” he hisses. “And you said not to drink this early,” he mutters, pulling himself off the couch. I watch as he reaches for his empty glass and crosses the room, pouring himself a refill. He takes a gulp before turning back to me. “I’m guessing you wanted her to keep it?”

“I’m the one who gave her the money and told her to take care of it, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want it. That part of me isn’t fucking dying inside.” I shake my head and look at him. “A baby doesn’t fit in this life.”

“Would it have really fit in hers either? She needs to get straight, man.”

“Maybe she would’ve,” I say. “She was clean from the minute she found out.” My voice trails and I sigh. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, clearing my throat. “We’re done.”

Finished before we began.

Rocco bites the inside of his cheek as he studies me for a beat. Before he can bestow any advice— which, let’s be real, he’s probably the last person who should be dishing out advice on relationships or anything for that matter— I clear my throat.

“We need to put a plan in place should any of Pablo’s men feel the need to retaliate,” I tell him. The worrisome look on his face dies and he shakes his head.

“According to Vic, that won’t be a problem.”

“And why is that?”

Before he can answer, a knock sounds on my door. Raising an eyebrow, I turn and stare at the door.

“You expecting any visitors?” Rocco questions from behind me. Shaking my head, I start for the door. I peer out the peephole to see who it is but I can’t make out anything. Glancing over my shoulder, I motion for Rocco to get my gun from the safe. Instead, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out his own. With a jerk of his head, he gives me the green light to open the door and aims his gun.

My hand closes over the knob as the mysterious person on the other side of the door knocks again. Rocco moves to stand behind me and as I pull open the door, he cocks his gun.

“Don’t shoot!”

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