Page 28 of Hell of a Mess
I wanted to scream at him to let me go. We didn’t have time for this. I had to save him and everyone else.
“Locke, listen to me. You have to let me leave. There is no time for this or an explanation. To protect you, I can’t tell you what you want to know. But that man isn’t someone who is going to be paying a nice visit to pick me up and leave. He was sent by my father to clean up the mess I’d made. And the way he will clean it up…” I swallowed the bile in my throat as tears stung my eyes. “No one will survive. Please, just let me get out of this house, call my father, and…and y’all need to call the police or something. Get a security gate. Bolt the windows and doors, buy some ammunition. I don’t know, but protect yourselves.”
He blew out a heavy sigh, but instead of looking scared, like he should, he looked…as if he thought I was misinformed or crazy and needed to be locked in a padded room and he hated to do it. They were all going to die, and it would be on my hands. All my fault. I was a walking curse, just like my father had shouted at me for the first time when I was six years old and continued to tell me every chance he got. My presence brought darkness and tragedy to those around me.
“Yeah, uh, listen…I don’t have the authority to tell you thatyou’re wrong and why I know without a doubt that you’re wrong. But I can assure you that Thaddeus isn’t going to do anything to us.”
I would scream at the top of my lungs if I thought it would help. But he wasn’t listening to me. He wasn’t going to believe me.
“You’re wrong,” I said as I choked out a sob.
I’d have to watch it. All these people who had brought me here and helped me…I would have to watch them die.
“Jesus,” he swore, and his hands cupped my face. “Lace, look at me.”
I lifted my eyes to stare up into his, wondering if I’d have to endure watching the light in them go out. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and he brushed them away with his thumbs.
“Fuck it,” he muttered. “You clearly know who and what Thaddeus is.”
I blinked and held my breath. He’d said that as if he, too, knew.
Did he? But how?
“Thaddeus has been in this house many times,” he said, and the air in my lungs seemed to all whoosh out.
“Locke!” Luther’s harsh voice shouted.
I jumped. Locke, however, didn’t move. Simply lifted his eyes to look at Luther.
“She’s having a breakdown. She knows who Thaddeus is—or rather, what he is.”
Luther knew too.
“Did you tell her?” he barked.
“No,” Locke snapped with clear annoyance on his face. “When I told her who was coming, she just flipped out. She thinks we are all going to die.”
“Fuck,” Luther growled. “Let her go.”
Locke’s gaze dropped back to mine, and he gave me a reassuring smile before dropping his hands from my face and stepping back. “You good?” he asked.
I wasn’t sure. What did they think they knew about Thaddeus?
“Depends,” I replied, my voice hoarse.
“Look at me.” Luther’s demand had me turning around instantly to see him standing only a few feet from where I was. He was closer than I had realized. “Tell me who you think Thaddeus is.”
I’d lied to him already, and I wasn’t able to lie about anything more. He didn’t deserve it, and if I told him the truth, then maybe they would take me seriously and let me walk out that door alone.
“I don’tthink. I know,” I corrected him. “Thaddeus is the head of the Mafia.” There, I’d said it.
Luther looked…amused. He shook his head and smirked. “Wrong,” he replied.
Just as I feared. They wouldn’t believe me.
“I know who he is. My father has—”
“Thaddeus is the head of the Louisiana branch of the Southern Mafia, sugar. The boss lives in Ocala, Florida.”
