Page 41 of Bloodstained Wings

“You are, I’m sure of it.”

“How are you so sure? You don’t know us?”

He nods slightly, pushing his coffee aside as an afterthought. “I know you. You and I are alike in a lot of ways. I was tormented by my brother for years growing up, and when I stopped communicating with him, it was like peace again. I also have a lot on my plate with my mother being sick, like your father, and I have to deal with Carter, too. He’s not an easy man to read, and sometimes I think he’d rather shoot me than work with me.”

I wave him off, trying to change the subject.

Not because it’s hard to talk about, but because he’s right.

“It’s nothing,” I admit. “I’m sorry I mentioned any of this. I’m just a little emotional today. It’s been difficult bottling everything up from Carter, and I was going to tell my best friend Sam, but I guess she decided to bail today. I asked her to meet me here hours ago.”

“She didn’t show?”

“No, and I don’t think she ever will. She’s distant because of Carter. I can’t blame her, but I feel more alone than ever. I have new neighbors I could talk to, but they think I’m a gold digger and nothing but a poor woman sleeping her way into a wealthy relationship. They wouldn’t welcome me as a friend, and the only friend I thought I had isn’t even willing to meet for coffee.”

He bows his head in similar defeat. “That’s a lot to deal with, Isabella. I’m sorry everything is turning out this way. I wish I could help more, but I can offer to take you home if you want.”

“I have a car in the lot down the street, actually, but thank you for the offer, Rich.”

He holds up his umbrella, something I didn’t even think to grab on my way out the door this morning. “Can I walk you to your car, then?”

I stare at the rain that has picked up in pace. It’s pouring buckets outside, and I’ll be soaking wet by the time I get to Anita’s car in the back lot. Rich has been pleasant enough and seems normal to the point of trusting. He’s not like his brother at all, even if the resemblance is uncanny. But his demeanor is nothing like Jacob’s. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to opening up to him so easily. Even if he was only an unexpected fill-in for Sam, I have found a bit of relief talking to him today.

“Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”

He opens the umbrella at the front door and holds it over us both, but I notice his shoulder gets drenched when we step out into the downpour. He ignores the water flicking onto his neck and keeps it over my head mostly, taking the direction where I’m parked with ease.

“Over there,” I breathe, turning the corner to point at the borrowed car, only to see Lorenzo and Tristan leaning against the soaking wet car. They both lack umbrellas, their eyes finding mine in an instant. They hardly look pleased, either. “Wait,” I say, stopping short.

They both cross the lot and sprint toward us, Tristan’s fists grabbing Rich’s shirt while Lorenzo rips me away from the Donahue boss. He’s pinned to the nearest brick wall, and any effort to be dry has gone to the wayside. The umbrella falls from Rich’s hands and floats down the sidewalk canal of flooding, my heart punching into my throat at the cold rush that the rain brings with it.

My laptop falls to the ground, ruined in the rain while I try to break this fight up, but it’s met with fierce opposition from Rich, who tells me to back up.

It doesn’t stop Tristan and Lorenzo from cornering him, though.

An opposing force of men comes rushing forward to break up the fight, and Rich tries to calm them down throughout the confrontation, but it’s not helping. The impression of pistols on hips and tucked into waistbands of every guy in this fight now is evident.

Tristan and Lorenzo are not just outmanned—they’re outgunned.

“Wait, can everyone calm down?” I shout, speaking over the splashing of tires in the street nearby. “What is going on here? Guys, I’m fine. Why did you just come up and push him like that?”

Lorenzo looks less than pleased as he replies, “Tristan wanted to see if Sam was coming to meet you. We drove by, saw Anita’s car here, and thought maybe she was nearby. Seeing you with him just triggered our concern, that’s all.”

“I’m fine,” I say, blinking back the rain that hits my eyes. “Rich, who are these guys?”

“They’re my family. I told them to pick me up on the way home so I’d have a ride from the coffee shop. They dropped me off down the street, and I got my coffee. They must have seen the fight and jumped in.”

“Sorry, boss,” one of the guys says, agreeing to that alibi. “It looked like they were going to rough you up. We had to step in.”

I run my hands through my hair, exhausted from this trouble already. “Okay, let’s just separate and forget this happened, please. We need to be working together, right? Not fighting in the parking lot like a bunch of heathens. Let’s just break it up before anyone sees and blows this out of proportion.”

“Too late,” Tristan says, staring across the street at a woman in heels with a large camera mounted before her eyes. She walks briskly away into the crowd before Lorenzo and one of Rich’s guys can even get across the street. But it’s clear that Tristan is right.

It’s too late.

“Fuck,” I say, looking at Rich. “Carter’s going to be pissed if he hears about this.”

Chapter Fifteen

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