All because I wanted some alone time.
“Walk out of here, Fiona. Go out and wait in the hall. I’ll take care of it.”
I touched his arm and wanted to say something. Maybe I could come up with a plan that would solve all our problems and avoid anyone getting killed—
But he only looked at me and his face softened.
“Go in the hall. It’ll be over fast.”
I turned and walked away.
Maybe I could’ve come up with another solution. We could tie my dad up and keep him in the basement— or knock him over the head so he’d forget what happened—
But it was unrealistic. I knew it and Mack knew it, and now Mack had to be strong for both of us.
I curled up on the floor in the hallway and hugged my knees to my chest.
I jumped at the gunshot.
Just one bang, like an explosion. I thought I’d cry, but I felt nothing.
Empty, hollow.
In some ways, this was justified. After what Dad did to Connor, he deserved to be sacrificed so Connor might survive.
It still felt like I was being torn into pieces.
Mack stepped out a moment later. The gun was gone, tucked back into his waistband. He sat down next to me and I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“You okay?”
“I think so. I just keep seeing my dad hitting me in the face, over and over again, and I keep wondering if there was something else I could’ve done.”
“He was an abusive piece of trash, Fiona. I should’ve done that from the start.”
I smiled a little. “That’s all you think about, isn’t it? Killing?”
“Killing and fucking you.” He kissed my cheek.
“What do we do now?”
“You go back to my place. And stop fucking wandering away, you’ll only get yourself in trouble.”
I chewed my lip. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”
“I’ll get rid of the body and meet you back there.”
“Are you sure? It’s the middle of the day.”
“I’ve done worse.” He sighed and climbed to his feet. I stared up at him, at gorgeous Mack, at muscular and primal Mack, at his handsome face and dark eyes, at those lips that bring me so much pleasure, at his forearms covered in tattoos, at his long lashes. He looked like the carving of a perfect man.
I never felt so enamored with a person, and I wondered if I was going insane.
He helped me to my feet and kissed my cheek.
“Go now. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry. I never should’ve come back here.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re not a prisoner, and you didn’t make your father hit you.”
I nodded once, tears stinging my eyes.
He wiped them away, kissed my lips softly.
“Go now.”
I turned and left, stumbling numbly out onto the sidewalk. I stood in the sunshine and looked around like I was seeing the world for the first time—
Because I was.
For once in my life, the specter of my father wasn’t haunting me anymore.
He was dead. Killed by Mack. And he deserved it.
Things weren’t better. Connor was still locked in the basement of a heavily guarded Lionetti safe house and every day that he stayed there was another day they tortured him. Each passing hour was one less hour he had on this Earth unless I could do something to save him.
But at least our dad was fucking dead.
I walked back toward Mack’s apartment and tried to keep myself from falling apart, because after everything that had happened, I wouldn’t let my father break me, not from the grave.
18
Mack
Azar was pretty pissed when he called that afternoon.
My back ached from breaking down Fiona’s dad and getting rid of him in the Schuylkill, and I almost didn’t answer Azar’s call. I picked it up and wiped sweat from my brow as I walked back along the river trail, surrounded by nice people doing their nice things, and hoped nobody would notice the blood splattered on my shoes.
“You know I’ve had cops outside of my store since that boy died, yes?”
“Sorry, Azar. Wasn’t my fault.”
“Your fault, their fault, I don’t care. Dead boys aren’t good for my business.”
“Is the phone unlocked?” I didn’t feel like getting lectured, especially not when I thought I had a little brain matter under my fingernails.
Bodies were extremely gross.
“Phone is unlocked. Gave it a new passcode, 0000. So even a big brute like you could handle it.”
“Thank you, Azar, although I could do without the insults.”
He sighed. “Only messing with you. It’s been a very annoying couple of days.”
“I’ll swing past and grab the phone. Are the cops still hanging around?”
“One’s been up on the corner since it happened. Other than that, it’s OK. I think you’ll be fine to come in.”
“Good. Have it ready. I’ll be there in forty-five.” I put the phone back in my pocket and picked up the pace.
My truck was parked right on South Street. I tore up north along Broad, pausing only to text Fiona that I was making a detour, that everything was fine, and I’d be home soon. She texted back OK and nothing else.