The Last Piece of His Heart (Lost Boys 3)
Page 173
I called Violet, crying, and told her the whole sordid story. She cried with me and said she’d see if Miller could get through to him. But Ronan had cut him off too. Probably Holden as well, though he was still MIA.
The Lost Boys were broken, when that had seemed impossible.
I visited Maryann and her girls at the complex, hoping she’d had better luck.
“He won’t talk to me either,” Maryann said, making us some tea, and my heart sank.
“Who won’t, Mommy?” one of the twins asked.
“Ronan?” asked the other. They were both suddenly on the verge of tears.
“Yes, Ronan,” Maryann said, stroking their hair.
“Are you his girlfriend?” one asked.
“You’re so pretty,” said the other.
“Oh! You’re the one who made that necklace he always wears.”
“Yeah, I made that,” I said, my throat thick.
For when you’re adrift.
Now that pendant was locked in some prison storage room, and I was adrift…
“He hired a management company to take care of us,” Maryann said.
“From prison?”
She nodded. “Apparently, his uncle owned both complexes free and clear. Ronan’s company has orders to keep the rent the same no matter how long he’s gone and to use every penny of our payments to make repairs as soon as an issue comes up. No scrimping.”
Maryann’s eyes filled, and she reached across the table to take my hand.
“I’m on the verge of a breakdown over him,” she said. “I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling.”
Sick. I felt sick at the idea of a life without Ronan.
I left Maryann’s place with hugs from her twins and a promise from her that we’d stay in touch. In the parking lot, I looked up at the corner unit, the window dark.
I ducked inside the car just as a torrent of sobs wracked me.
At home, Bibi was knitting on the couch, Ethel and Lucy curled around her ankles.
“Hey, honey,” she said. “Hungry? I have some chicken with biscuits and gravy cooking. Maybe some basil mint lemonade?”
The idea of food made my stomach twist. “Maybe later.”
I sat on the couch beside her and opened my laptop. The shop had been closed, losing money every day. I still had repairs to make before reopening, though it all seemed so tedious. Too much work to do and I didn’t have the energy—the fire—to do it.
I opened my banking app to see what I had left in savings and saw that Ronan had made good on his word. My account was more than sixty-thousand dollars richer.
A little cry fell out of me and I shut the laptop.
“What is it?” Bibi asked, alarmed.
“He gave me his money, Bibi,” I said, the tears flowing. “All of his money…”
“Oh, honey…” Bibi drew me to her and held me against her bosom. My tears dampened the lilac of her housedress. “Then he wants you to have it.”