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Page 52
Page 52
“You expect me to tell them what I did. You want me tell them I went to Novak.”
“I don’t expect it, I know it. If you don’t do this, the next call will be from your new boyfriend because he’s on the way to their bodies. Do you understand me?”
“You’ll kill them anyway. It’s what you do.” And even though my parents and I weren’t really close, I still couldn’t let him do that to them. They were innocent in all of this, their only crime being that they were related to me. Their deaths would be my fault, and even though I was strong, the weight of more guilt and more bodies would cripple me.
“I haven’t killed anyone who didn’t deserve it.” That voice was so seductive, just begging me to believe him.
“Oh yeah? What about the girl on the docks? You want me to believe you didn’t have your hands in that? She looked just like me.”
He laughed a little bit. “She had your smart mouth as well. I might have taken a personal interest in her and gotten a little overzealous in trying to teach her what happens to pretty, mouthy girls. It’s time to go home, Reeve. Go alone. If the cop shows, it won’t end well for anyone.”
I whimpered a little bit. “He’s going to want to know where I’m at. He won’t just let me drop out of sight.” Titus was going to be pissed that I was leaving the condo in the first place. When he found out why, he was going to call me every kind of idiot for falling into one of Roark’s traps.
“Well, you better buy yourself some time, then. This little reunion has been a long time coming and your new boyfriend isn’t going to mess with my fun. I have another call to make but I’ll be seeing you soon, Reeve.” It sounded like he blew me a kiss over the line before he ended the call. After hanging up the phone I just sat there staring at it for a long time. I didn’t get my head together until I realized I was crying and big, fat teardrops were hitting the screen. Going to see my parents was a stupid risk to take. I could take a cab to their house, explain what I had done, and Conner could still send Zero after them, but if I didn’t go, they were dead for sure. There was no winning in this scenario, and as usual, at the end of the day I came out the loser. Figuring I didn’t really have a choice, that a homecoming and a come-to-Jesus talk with the people that had raised me was long overdue anyway, I called my mom back and told her I would be home for dinner. I was surprised at how excited she sounded to see me, and the lure of new information, of some kind of closure when it came to her daughter’s death, had her practically giddy. It made my heart hurt.
I put on some makeup, deciding I needed it like war paint to psych myself up, and then called for a cab. Titus tried to call me, once and then again, but he didn’t leave a message and I knew if I tried to talk to him, tried to explain what I was doing and why I had to do it, he wouldn’t let me go alone. Hell, part of me hoped that it was all an elaborate ploy to get me to leave the fortress castle so Conner could grab me. I had the Glock in my purse and that confrontation was one I was prepared for. Far more than I was prepared for this new one with my parents. I had had a hard enough time telling Titus about the murder-for-hire plot when I turned myself in; I couldn’t imagine trying to find the right words to justify my actions to my parents.
Conner wasn’t just evil, he was twisted and cruel. He knew that telling my parents that I had arranged for a murder, that I had sold my soul to Novak, would effectively end any feelings they had for their surviving daughter. This wasn’t about hurting me so much as it was forcing me to rip their world apart once again, effectively making me as bad a person as he was. He wanted to remind me how alike we were, which was also a way of reminding me how different Titus and I were. That wounded. It burned and festered inside of me. I didn’t want it to be true but there was no denying that it was.
I called a cab and decided to turn my phone off. It wouldn’t keep Titus at bay forever, but it would hold him off long enough for me to get the dirty deed done. I figured if the marshals were still following me around looking for Conner, they would fill him in on the fact I was on the move. I sent Titus a text telling him I was going home before killing my phone, hoping it would give him a vague idea of what I was up to. I knew he would have a million questions once he caught up to me, but for now I couldn’t let him or his rightness flavor the discomfort and unease I was tasting as I headed toward the outskirts of the city.
My parents still lived in the Point. They had a town house behind a strip mall that had long been abandoned and left to rot. The side of the building where they lived was covered in graffiti and all the windows had vertical bars running across them. My parents didn’t have a drug problem, and neither one had ever gambled a day in their lives. They had been two young kids that had fallen hopelessly in love, had a baby way too young, and never managed to get ahead enough in any job to invest in their future. My parents were the working poor, they always had been, and the Point fit them like a comfortable old shoe. My mom worked as a waitress, had since she was a teen, and my dad was a janitor for some big building on the Hill. He tended to jump from job to job, and while there had never been anything extra growing up, there had always been enough.
As I looked at the faded paint on the front door memories flooded in. All I could see was my sister. All I could feel was the loss and the emptiness that always lingered when it came to Rissa. I had to fight back more tears when I lifted my hand to knock on the door.
When my mom pulled it open I guess I expected her to look older, still drawn and ravaged with grief. She didn’t. In fact she looked so much like she had before Rissa was murdered it made me fall back a step. The distance between us didn’t last long as she reached out and wrapped me up in a hug. I was so shocked by the contact I didn’t even hug her back. The warm reception stunned me and made the reason I was here after all this time even harder to choke down.
“You look so pretty. It’s been so long.” She led me through a familiar hallway littered with pictures from my youth. Picture after picture of me and Rissa growing up. The memories knocked me sideways so hard I had to put a hand on the wall to stay upright. My mom gave me a concerned look and took my elbow to guide me the rest of the way into the tiny and cluttered living room, peppering me along the way with questions about where I had been and what I had been up to. My father was lounging in his easy chair watching TV. He looked so normal, just like my mother did, that I practically fell into the couch when the backs of my legs hit it. How had life just gone on for them? How had they battled down the grief and sorrow without doing something about it? I shifted my gaze from one to the other in shock. This was not the family I had left behind. This was a family that had healed and moved on without me.