Page 84 of Forgotten Deeds

Watching as her hot little body convulses, I turn around and walk off. It’s that, or shoot a load in my pants.

Oh little angel, you’re playing with fire tempting the devil.

My pager vibrates, and I wait until I’m in my car before retrieving it. This night just keeps getting better when I learn the identity of my new “training client.”

Dropping by a Parisi Construction warehouse, I switch out the plates on my car, continuing on to my client’s house. I park two streets over and approach the older shotgun house. My target has a security system, one I easily disable before using his spare key and unlocking his back door. You’d think a cop would be smarter than to leave a key under the welcome mat.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I screw on the silencer to my gun and wait. I’m a sight in coveralls, shoe coverings, and a hair covering, but hey, Luca isn’t the only obsessive motherfucker in this crew.

The front door opens, and I inwardly curse when I hear Tommy’s brought home a companion. “You going to use those handcuffs on me?” the woman asks in a flirty tone.

“Consider yourself under arrest,” he says, and I try not to snort. What a fucking cheeseball.

Listening to the bed squeak for about ten minutes before things go quiet—pathetic; I bet he didn’t even bother to get the woman off—I hear soft footsteps and the sound of the front door opening and closing.

I wait until the woman’s long gone before I creep up the stairs.

“Baby, I want to see you, but I’m working tonight,” Tommy lies to someone on the phone; I’m sure a different woman than the one he halfway fucked moments ago. “Next time,” he says, and is quiet. “Yeah, I miss you too. Bye.”

Finally.

Slipping into his bedroom, Tommy looks up in shock. “Darius. What the fuck?” He dives for his nightstand housing his gun, but I’m faster on the draw. A soft pop, and a bullet’s now lodged between Tommy’s eyes; he falls over like a sack of potatoes.

I make quick work ransacking his bedroom before swiping the cash and credit cards from his wallet, along with his cell and burner phones, tablet, and laptop. Placing those items in a signal-blocking bag, I go to make my escape when something in the top drawer of his dresser catches my eye—a small rainbow charm made out of beads. I don’t know why, but I pocket it.

Performing one last sweep, I kick in the backdoor to make it look like a burglary.

My next stop—a Parisi Construction worksite, where I watch the foreman pour concrete over the bag of electronics that could tie me and the family back to Officer Tommy Harrison.

Never get caught holding the bag.

* * *

The rainbow charm is laid out on the coffee table beside a note. Grabbing the piece of paper with trembling hands, I read it three times, hoping it’ll say something different.

How could you? Wait, I know the answer. Because you’re the devil. People don’t change, and you proved that for me yet again. Don’t come looking for us.

“Lily!” I thunder.

Sprinting to our bedroom, I panic when I spot her cellphones, her wedding ring, and her mood ring on the dresser. I fling the closet door open so hard it nearly flies off the hinges, finding the safe empty. “Fuck!”

I’ve been caught holding the bag, and Lily’s skipped town with the emergency bag.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Lily

A few days later…

Now that the adrenaline’s worn off, I don’t have a fucking clue what to do next. A life on the run is no place for my daughter. God, how did things go from heaven to a living hell?

“Mama, I want to see Darius. And Lucky.” Iris pouts.

“I know, sweetie.” I’ve thought about lying and telling her Darius is dead, but that seems too cruel for a child who’s already lost her dad. “Darius is busy with work and wanted us to have fun on our girls trip—just the two of us. He’ll take good care of Lucky while we’re gone.” I hated leaving Lucky, but a cross-country road trip with a kitty would have made things even more difficult than they already are. “Why don’t we go to the beach?” I suggest. We spent the first two days just trying to get as far away from Jersey as possible. After we catch our breath here in South Carolina, I need to figure out a plan.

“Yay! Beach!” Iris says excitedly.

We spend the day frolicking in the sun and surf. She does, anyway. I plaster on a happy face and try not to have an emotional breakdown.

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