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)
That’s ultimately why I don’t call him. In spite of how much I crave the warmth of his voice when he says my name, the certainty of his well-being and safety that I’d get from calling, is not a solution. There’s no way to stay safe in his line of work, and it would only be the most temporary of reassurances to call him now.
Instead, I turn on an audiobook and read about my baby’s development as I near my second trimester. I rest my palm on my belly and take slow breaths, trying to think of happy things for the baby’s sake. I know that my body is where this baby is growing and I don’t want them to grow in an environment of nothing but sadness and fear. When I finally fall asleep again, I don’t dream at all thankfully.
When I wake up, I grab my tablet and open a file. I scan it repeatedly and then double check my numbers. Somehow in my sleep, I unraveled it. I take a deep breath and message Mickey three words that will take down the drug ring.
It’s the nephew.
I email him a quick paragraph explaining how I know Ragucci’s nephew and, unfortunately, Jeremiah—are behind the drugs. I’ll leave it to him to tell his chief forensic accountant that his heir apparent, the nephew Mickey never trusted, is the guilty party and no amount of loyalty to the uncle can save the man now.
Something about solving this puzzle and being able to give Mickey a confident answer with proof helps free me a little from the gloom I’m under. At least I’ve accomplished something on this job besides a broken heart.
23
MICKEY
Benny’s getting out of rehab a week early. He’s stronger every day and ready to come back to work. He lets me know he emails with Katie on a secure network to get up to speed on the current financials. He thanks me for the fruit basket I sent and for helping out his family. I tell him it’s nothing, that it’ll be good to have him back where he belongs.
What I don’t say is if he never had a heart attack, I wouldn’t have gotten to know Katie the way I did and would’ve missed out on the best part of my entire life. It isn’t the kind of thing I can say out loud—thanks for not taking care of your cholesterol because your illness gave me the opportunity to have an affair with your interim replacement. I wonder what the hell’s wrong with me for even thinking it.
Poor guy was brokenhearted to hear that not only was his nephew skimming money from me to the tune of six figures, but he was also dealing drugs out of my club. For his sake alone, I didn’t kill the little fucker, but he was sent packing with strict instructions that I wouldn’t be as merciful if I ever saw his face in Boston again.
I’m meeting with the head of my new protective detail when Rory busts into my office.
“I need a minute,” he says. I nod to Carlos and he excuses himself.
Rory’s jaw is tight and he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet like he used to when he was spoiling for a fight in high school. I lean against my desk and wait for him to come out with it.
“What the are you doing with my baby sister?” He says in a low, dangerous voice. “You promised you’d keep her out of the business, everything on the up-and-up, right? I guess that didn’t include keeping the business outta her.”
I roll my neck like I’m loosening up for this. Any second he’s gonna throw a punch. Rory’s less of a hothead than he used to be but this is family and everyone’s a little nuts when it comes to that.
“You wanna explain to me why you’re actin’ like she’s not a grown adult? She makes her own decisions. She chose to be with me and she’s the one that broke it off. I didn’t do anything to her and I’m sure as fuck not goin’ to tell you about what I did with her. Now if you wanna go out in the street I can kick your ass like old times. Otherwise, you need to grow up and stay in your fuckin’ lane.”
Rory rocks back on his heels. “Jesus Christ. You love her, too, don’t you?” He asks.
“What did you say?”
“You’re in love with her.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “She doesn’t want to be with me.”
“Yeah, sure. That’s why she’s moping on the couch like a brokenhearted teenager.”
I don’t know what to do with the knot in my stomach that tightens when he says Katie’s brokenhearted and crying on the couch. I want to charge right out of here and go to her as fast as possible.