Page 46 of Jig's Last Dance

Iris’ face, as she took his beating, haunts me, and I’m sitting on the front porch, shivering, when my brother pulls into the drive. He slows when he sees me, and I look up at him with a pang of regret. “What happened to us?”

“Life,” he says, stepping past me and inserting his key in the door.

“I’m sorry,” I say, dropping my head. “I’m in trouble.”

There’s a pause, and I clench my hands in my lap but sag when he says, “That’s the thing, Alice. You’re always in trouble. You don’t need me unless it’s to bail you out. I’m done. You’re free.”

I don’t respond when he steps into the house, closing my eyes against the pain rending my chest. Maybe I’ve spent too much time escaping my reality, but he has too. We’re husks of the people we once were, and I’m tired.

With a sigh, I move away from the porch and walk down the street, wishing I had an answer for my brother, but I don’t. Because it’s true, I’ve been reckless and stupid, and now it’s come back to haunt me. I’m fucking alone.

As I walk through the darkness, I think about Iris once more. I know I don’t want to be her.

Chapter Seven

At school the following morning, I sit through class blindly, dressed in the same damn clothes, now dried and stiff, with my hair pulled back in a bun. I get a few curious stares, but I ignore them.

Ben’s words left me cold. The one person who should care has cast me to the proverbial wolves. Unless I count Uncle Sal, and the jury is still out on that.

I could leave. Get a job. Start over.

Would Castinetti come for me? I don’t know. But it’s got to be better than this.

Once class is done, I trudge out to the parking lot. I’m hungry, but all I have is the fifty bucks I won the other day, and I still have no solution to my problem.

Fuck.

There’s a diner down the road, and I slide into a booth wearily, scrubbing my hand down my face.

Can I disappear with fifty bucks? I suppose it’s not impossible, but it sounds pretty fucking daunting.

What was my father thinking when he cast his lot with the devil? He left me with few choices, and once again, my chest burns with resentment. Not to mention I feel really fucking stupid. How could I not know that he was a hit man?

Obviously I knew he worked for Sal. But once again, I buried my head in the sand instead of admitting what was right in front of my face.

Tapping out a text to Shawn, I stare out the window blindly. I’m so caught up in my thoughts I don’t notice Jig until he’s standing above me.

“Sunshine!”

Glancing up, I frown. Why is he here?

But before I can ask, his brows slam over his eyes and he grabs my chin. “Who did this?”

My skin burns, and I drop my gaze. I don’t want to admit where I went, especially because he warned me not to, and I did it anyway.

“It’s nothing, I—”

“It’s not nothing. Who did this?” he growls, running his finger over the welt. “Was it Castinetti?”

“What? No,” I say, pulling away with a wince.

Smacking his hand on the table, he says in a tone so low that I strain to hear, “Alice?”

Tears fill my eyes, and I sniffle, willing the waterworks back, but fuck, it’s like a deluge.

“C’mere,” he says, sliding into the booth and pulling me into his embrace.

Collapsing against him, I soak his shirt, shuddering because I know I’m going to regret this in about 2.5 seconds.

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