Page 12 of Garrison's Creed

“Better yet, why were you all over him?”

So Cashdidwant to join in the conversation. He seemed to ping pong between hurt and jealousy. She couldn’t blame him.

She studied Roman instead of answering because she didn’t know what to say. His eyebrows bunched. Then she glanced at his bicep.No, no. A memorial tattoo. RIP. Her year of birth. Her year of death.

Sucking a breath, she breathed out, “I’m sorry.”

Roman nodded. Nicola watched her big brother, who clearly hurt right now, but didn’t know why.

“Sorry? You’ve made that clear,” Cash said.

“Cash, stop.” Her palms felt clammy. “I didn’t freak out on you because I was pissed you killed him. It’s… complicated.”

“Yeah, today’s the definition of complicated.”

Rocco interrupted. “Dude, calm it down. She’s not going to talk to us with you up in her grill. Nicola, go on.”

“Who do you guys work for?” she asked, curious, but really buying time until her brain registered a what-to-say-now plan.

“Nope, not your turn yet.” Rocco stated it like he was wrangling an out-of-line preschooler.

She closed her eyes, then blinked. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Try the day you died.” Cash used air quotes arounddied.

Rocco knocked him in the shoulder, and Roman grumbled.

“Cash and I…” She stole a glance at Cash. An indecipherable flash in his eyes said that he’d never told Roman.

“You and Cash what?” Roman asked.

“Never mind. Simple version. Remember my job in college? I worked part-time for an accounting firm, translating international accounts. Unknowingly, I stumbled onto a money laundering scheme. I didn’t know it, but one of our clients was a mobster who did a lot of business overseas. I’d been tracking cash-for-hire assassinations and hadn’t a clue. Once I connected the dots, I couldn’t believe the truth. Then I naively showed up and accidently saw a goon-squad massacre. Wrong place, wrong time. I’d figured out they were killers, but then I actually saw them murder a man. Too bad that they also saw me. I ran out as the FBI swooped in. A sting operation. Their timing was good for me, bad for the other guy.” She shook her head, remembering the first time she’d watched someone die. “I was in federal protection by the end of the day.”

“Bullshit. It doesn’t work like that.” Cash slapped the table.

“Sometimes it does.”

“But you still go by Nicola?” Roman asked.

She nodded.

“Because?”

“I eventually left federal protection and took a job where I was… safe. I never got used to a different name. I’m Nic. It just worked.”

Roman kneaded his temples. “You didn’t call. Send a damn letter. Nothing.”

“I thought it would be better. Safer. I had a hard enough time adjusting to life without you all. Mom’s face if she got a letter from me? Dad would go insane trying to find me. You and Cash…” Remembering the decisions still hurt. “I had to.”

“You walked away from your life to help prosecute some low life piece of trash?” Pain was evident in the scratch of Roman’s voice.

“You walked away from us?” Cash followed up, and she knew he meant him and her, not their three musketeers.

“I walked away to stay alive. The mobsters knew me, knew what I was privy to. The FBI sting took out a few members, but not the whole organization. I had to disappear. My death had to be untimely and coincidental. If not, those same contract killers would’ve found me—our family—and made me watch as they hurt everyone I loved. The mob had to believe I’d died running away from them. What would you do, Roman? You’d endanger our parents? Me? No, you wouldn’t. You’d do what it took to protect them. Just like I did.”

Cash and Roman seemed lock-jawed. Rocco asked, “Wait? You were trying to protect them?”

“I did protect them.”

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