Going into my closet, I pull out a Tiffany designed dress with a plunging neckline. The color of royal blue would look good amongst my tanned skin, I think.
Slipping it on with some nude heels, I spray my perfume, and tousle my hair.
Coming out of the room, my mother catches a glimpse of me and stops in her tracks.
“Where are you going?”
“To see Kieran,” I tell her, waiting for her to protest.
“NO!” She turns, trying to hurry up the stairs to get to me. I pass her, not wanting to hear what she has to say. Like Grandma said, I need everyone away from me and Kieran. Just us two. “It’s four in the morning. He’s sleeping. Don’t do this,” she continues, panic laced in her voice as she practically begs me to stay away from him. But I can’t.
Outside a cool breeze blows my dress and my hair, and I make my way down to the car. Climbing in, pulling all of my dress inside, I shut the door.
“Did Dominic give you directions?” I ask the driver, pulling out my phone.
“He did.”
“Take me there,” I instruct, and the car moves to the other side of Manhattan and I instantly feel butterflies in my stomach. My hand grips the handle of the limo and I bite my bottom lip. It’s not going to go well, but hopefully neither of us shoot one another.KieranSitting in my leather chair I stare out the window only feeling a light buzz as of now. Hours have passed and I’ve only stared out this window. My brother Romeo left hours ago, and the place has been silent ever since. I don’t like feeling sober, her smile comes to mind and then the betrayal. I’m the one that plays mind games. I break hearts and don’t give a fuck, not the other way around. She really got me, and now I may be going to prison. I’m on Leona’s watch. She’ll surely turn in everything she knows about me now that she’s found out me and my brother killed her dad. Every day that passes is mere torture because I don’t know if it’s my last day of freedom.
The doorbell rings and my brows narrow. I told Romeo I didn’t want any company. He kept insisting I take my mind off Leona and invite some women over, but pussy is that last thing on my mind right now. The doorbell rings again and I finally stand, scratching my bare chest I go to the door and open it finding Leona staring back at me. My nostrils flare, and my heart stops.
“What are you doing here?” I growl.
“Can I come in?” Her terse voice already making me want to slam her up against the wall and choke her. If I kill her, I won’t go to prison.
I step aside instead, letting her in. She looks around, the smell of her bringing me back to the cabin and why I care for her all over again.
“Here to get more secrets out of me?” I ask, going to pour myself another drink. She glares over her shoulder, those brown eyes digging into my chest like a sharp dagger.
“I was approached by that detective when I was running from you,” she informs, and I turn around, leaning against my wet bar, taking a sip of my whiskey. “What your father didn’t show you was that I pointed my gun at him and told him to get the fuck out of my car, Kieran.” She fully turns around looking at me, her round face and thick lashes making her look like a doll.
“Remember Tina, that owner of the salon? Well that detective was her brother. He wants to take your family down and if he’s determined to do it,” she continues to explain. She looks down. “Anyway, I just thought I’d let you know you have a target on your back, and it’s not me.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I set my cup down and stride over to her. Cupping her chin, I make her look me in the eyes. I want to believe her, I really do. Omerta Law is a crucial part of our life and if she’s a rat then there’s nothing between us but a slice of a serrated knife cutting all ties.
“I’m not a rat,” she seethes, staring me in the eyes. That, that is what I wanted to hear.
“But how do I believe it?” I ask, the smell of liquor coming off my breath.
Her hand cups my face, and I want to go soft but I harden instead my jaw clenching. She leans up and presses her lips to mine. I close my eyes, my breathing becoming heavier.
“You either do, or you don’t,” she mutters against my lips, before breaking away. Just as she walks away I grab her wrist to stop her. I do believe her. I don’t know why, but I do. She wouldn’t have lived in that cabin with me as long as she had if she was going to turn me in. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. The way she laughed, smiled, gave her firsts to me. It wasn’t a show, it had to be real because what I feel is real.