Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
She blinks fast and looks away. She’s about to cry. I see it and I want to punch myself in the face for it. Nothing I said matters. It’s still the same crappy stalemate. I take the hand she hasn’t pulled away and I hold it in both of mine.
“Come back to me, Kate,” I say in the lowest voice, it’s barely words at all, more like a growl.
She dips her head and kisses my knuckles. My whole body tightens like a fist at her gentle kiss. My chest feels fit to just open with whatever swells inside it. She looks up at me still silent and shakes her head. I know she can’t, that’s what she’s telling me. I have to make myself withdraw my hands from the table and release her.
I grit my teeth with the force of it. I’m disobeying every instinct when I let go of her. My whole body feels like a prison riot broke out when I let go of her hand. Like alarms go off and locks slam shut.
Katie goes to the bar cart and gets a water, drinking part of it before she returns to the table. I wait, not speaking. The least I can do is give her a minute to collect herself. I can’t begin to get myself under control beyond the tightly leashed, white-knuckle grip I have holding myself right at the edge.
“A kid OD’d behind the Oyster.”
“I heard, she says.
“I should’ve had you come to my office. I forgot where you were working,” I admit. “I think of you here.”
“Don’t,” she says and her voice rises a little.
“Somebody inside is working with the drug ring or running it. I need you to investigate and I don’t mean our books. I want the security team checked out first because somebody’s on the take at the very least. I want their personal bank records, transactions, any big purchases or new lines of credit.”
“I’ll have it for you by the end of the day tomorrow.”
“I thought you’d object. It’s unethical.”
“Nothing new. I work for the Mob, Mick,” she says dryly. “I didn’t think you called me up here to the soundproof top security room because you wanted me to go to Mass and say a rosary for the kid.”
“That’s fair,” I say.
“Anything else?” she asks.
“My secretary is gonna send you their HR info. The names, the accounts where we direct deposit. I’ve got Sal running credit reports now. There’s about thirty people I want you to look into and that’s just the start.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks. I went to see Benny this afternoon,” I say.
“How’s he doing?” Her tone is even and neutral, using as few words as she can like they cost her a thousand dollars each and she’s on a budget.
“Says he’s doing better. Looks like crap. They’re saying another four or five weeks to clear him. That okay?”
“I guess. I said I’d stay on till he’s back.”
“If you can’t, I get it. Just say so. I’ll—”
“What? Promote the gallon bottle of hair gel?” She scoffs. “He can’t do this work. No fuckin’ way.”
I hear the trace of Southie creep back in her voice and it warms me. She doesn’t want to give up the job or the investigation into who’s running drugs. She’s got her teeth in this case like the bulldog I knew she was. I want to kiss her like a fever’s seized me.
“You need to go,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Why?” she says and I know she’s teasing me. That she knows.
“You fuckin’ know why,” I manage, and I sound pissed off at her. She cracks a smile but it’s joyless.
“I know why,” she says. “And I’m sorry.”
“So am I. You don’t know how goddamn sorry.” I grind the words out. When she stands, I get to my feet automatically.
“Thanks,” she says. “For looping me in so I can help. I’m sure you would’ve rather had Sal do it.”
“He’s not as good as you. I need the best. And if there’s one thing I know for sure, Katie, it’s that you’re the best I’ve ever had.”
“I’ll get you the info as soon as I can,” she says curtly and I walk her to the door. I can’t help it. When I reach around her to put my hand on the knob, I lean in and kiss her cheek. I feel her gasp. I expect her to step back, self-protective and reproach me with her eyes. Instead, she lays her hand on my forearm for just a second and I’m suspended in time. It’s agony. Heaven and hell and no way to pick just one.
“You were right,” she says, barely audible. “I need to go.”
18
KATE
You got this.
The alert pings on my phone at five in the morning the day of my CPA exam. Mickey remembers the day and time, reaching out to send me one message that doesn’t say good luck but informs me of the faith he has in me. A warm flush that’s something like happiness flits through me before I push it down and get ready to go. Rory comes in from the gym.