Page 147 of Severed Rivalry
“I don’t want to be a savior. I want my girls to not have been through hell.”
“You can’t change the past, Ci,” Liam says calmly. “But you can change the future.”
I’m no vigilante.
I’m no hero.
I’m just a man who finally found the woman I love. She comes with a ready-made family who needs the kind of stability I have.
Ren interrupts my thoughts. “We could always use the five, keep you and your family entirely out of this. They’d be safe, just lure for the big fish.” He spins the files toward himself and leans over the island. He analyzes the data, pours over it like it’s his job, all the while ignoring me.
“Like hell you’re doing this without me.” The words are pained. “Those are my girls. Sariah, Renée, and Rosie survived the unthinkable. I’m the one who holds my woman at night as she cries. I’m the one who wakes her from her nightmares. I’m the one who will end that for her.”
Liam’s grin is malicious and cold. “All right then… Let’s discuss.”
We do. We have three potential plans, one that all of us hate but know is the strongest.
By the time I leave Liam’s house and head for my own, my mind is spinning. And something in me isn’t simply resigned to revenge, it’s reveling in the probability.
I drop off groceries and supplies at Rosie’s and then make a stop at Sariah’s house on my way home. I look around the homey space, the place my girls made their own. Small, quaint, good bones in a great neighborhood, even if the decline is obvious. Higher prices, less affordability, and anything reasonable becomes less cared for. We’ll see about that.
Phoenix Consulting is almost off the ground. I guess, technically it is, but seeing as how my life has revolved around theOcotea women, I haven’t done much. I have managed to transfer the funds from Murphy Enterprises that were my due—the clean funds that were legitimately derived—into my own accounts. Ayla’s data was irrefutable—thank God for that.
I’ll make offers to the employees I can’t live without. It’ll be uphill, harder work than any of us are used to for a while, but after?Afterit will be what M.E. could’ve been without the greed, the illegal shit, and my father.
While I’m here, I grab several family photos, the ones in the living room and Sariah’s bedroom. I even enter that madness that is Renée’s room. Holy teenage explosion, Batman—I was not prepared for theeverythingnessof that space. I grab her comforter, but touch nothing else.
We’ll pack them up as a family, but there’s something abouthomein the fuchsia and royal purple covers that is worth taking with me now.
Back in my truck, I send a message to my sister.
Me: How are you? How’s the maligator?
My phone rings.
“Hello?”
“I’m good, Ci. How are you?”
“Holding up. Are you looking forward to vacation?”
“Can’t wait. After last weekend, all of last weekend, I’m looking forward to being as far away from this place as possible.”
“I get that. I think the Mediterranean certainly qualifies. Are you going to send your terror my way?”
“For sure and nah. Franklin is heading to boot camp. Or boot camp number two. He needs a professional.”
“Are you saying that Eleanor is poorly trained?” I turn south on Wadsworth as I ask.
“Not at all.” She pauses. “You have a family that needs you. Franklin misses you and Ellie for sure, but he needs fulltime training camp, not sleep-away camp.”
“That dog is smart and fearless. And he loves you. I love you more.”
“I know, Ci. I love you, too.” Quietly, she adds, “We’ve had a hell of a year.”
“That’s an understatement. I need a favor.”
“Anything.”
