Page 27 of Breakdown
“Italy. I suppose this means I’ll have to kill Frank D’Abramo as well for setting that up for you and never telling me,” Liv said bitterly. “You know, I hear it’s been really beautiful there for the last, oh, two decades or so. You have yourself a nice vacation, you selfish piece of shit?”
Peter took an involuntary step back almost at the same time his mother did. “Jesus, Liv. Let’s wait for a second.”
Olivia turned on him, her lips curled in a snarl. “Are you kidding me? Don’t tell me you’re not angry, Peter. She’s been lying to us, hiding from us, for years.”
Cynthia’s lips pressed into a thin line, but her gaze flicked guiltily away from them and to the back wall. “It’s more complicated than that.”
Liv snorted. “I don't know, seems like it was pretty fucking easy for you to just walk out on your kids. I could have used a phone call, but I suppose you found the long-distance charges in fucking Palermo a bit prohibitive?”
His mother’s eyes flashed. “You have no idea how hard that decision was. You don’t understand—”
“I don’tunderstand?” Liv’s laugh was like a bark, sharp and harsh. “You don’t know the things I had to do for that man. As a kid, Mom. As a fucking kid, because I thought he fucking killed you and he was going to do the same to me and Peter if I didn’t toe the line. But you got out and you left us behind. Your children. With a monster.”
“It was...” Cynthia bent in on herself, like a wounded, cornered animal. “It was the hardest choice I’ve ever made. Maybe I screwed up. It wouldn’t be the first time. I wasn’t in a position to properly take care of myself back then, never mind two children. I was a danger to both of you.”
“And Dad wasn't? Do you really think it gotbetterafter you left?” Olivia spat.
“That’s enough, Liv,” Peter warned. Of all the nights he had lain awake picturing this reunion, it had never gone like this. The last thing they needed was to drive her off again; he had already done that once.
“Come on Peter, why don’t you tell Mom how fuckinggoodyour childhood was without her, huh? How it was all pony rides and bouncy castles and getting your fingers slammed in car doors whenever you pissed Dad off.”
Nik flinched; he knew the broad strokes, but Peter had tried to spare him the grisly details. Peter shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t like it was Cynthia’s fault either.
“Jesus,” Cynthia’s eyes widened in sincere horror, going shiny and wet and swiveling to him. “Sweet-pea, I swear, I didn’t know...”
“Of course you didn’t know,” Liv scoffed. “Because you weren’t there, Mom. But don’t pretend you didn’t know exactly who Dad is, you ran for a reason.”
“Olivia,” Peter said sharply. “Drop it, okay? She’s here now.” That was more than he ever thought they were going to get.
“She was supposed to keep us safe.” Olivia shook her head tightly, her eyes darting back and forth between him and their mother. “She didn’t. And if some bullshit excuses are going to make you feel better, Peter, then fine. I don’t have to stand here and listen to her justifications. She ran away. If she didn’t want to be slowed down by a couple of brats then that’s fine. She can’t pretend to be shocked that Erik Bauer didn’t provide us with a great childhood.”
“Just give her a chance.” He hated the weakness in his voice, but he couldn’t stave off the sudden panic that he and Liv were a package deal. If his sister left, then maybe so would Cynthia.
“She used up all her chances the minute she walked out that door on us,” Liv said.
Anger boiled through his chest, irrational and desperate. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You still talk to Dad all the time even after all the shit he put us through.”
“That’s just business. The business that I ended up in because my mother abandoned me to be raised by a crime boss.” Liv crossed her arms over her chest, on the defensive. Or maybe she was just trying to keep from hitting him again.
“Is it?” he goaded, his jaw still burning. Peter frankly didn’t give a shit how angry she was with him right now.
Liv seethed, bright points of red coloring her cheeks, her fists clenching and unclenching against her biceps. “You know what, if you can’t see the difference, I don’t even...you don’t...” Like a switch had been flipped, she went suddenly still, her face eerily blank. “Jordan, we’re leaving. Now.”
Peter almost forgot Jordan was there at all. He shrugged apologetically in Peter’s direction, his expression miserable and conflicted as he followed Liv’s stiff march to the exit.
Liv paused in the doorway. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow night, Peter,” she said, her affect flat. “I expect you to be a professional about this. If I am not safe from Volkov, then none of us are.” She made it sound like a threat, her hard gaze drifting to Nik. “You may not like what I’m doing, but unlike some people in this garage, I have always been there for you anytime you asked me for help. Don’t let me down the one time I’m asking you.”
She was right, and she was gone before Peter could think of anything else to say.
——
PETER SWIVELED IN THEdesk chair, the rhythmic motion doing nothing to abate his nervous energy. Cynthia wandered the small back office of the garage like she was mapping out exit strategies, examining anything but Peter himself: the file for the Volkov job, a photograph of him and Nik with the Camaro, the sad-looking ficus Nina gave him in the hospital that had stayed alive only because Nik had taken mercy on it and watered it once in a while, even one of Mia’s glitter-shedding princess dolls. When she finally took the seat across from Peter, she gripped the armrests so hard he was certain she was going to leave marks. It was like the chair was the only thing stopping gravitational forces from ripping her out of his life again.
She met his eye, and he was hit with the distinct impression that she could tell exactly what he’d been thinking.
“Shit, huh?” she said, shaking her head.
Peter chuckled weakly, feeling every inch of distance between the chairs and in the twenty-three lost years between them. “You’re telling me.”
