“What are you doin’ up?” I asked. I didn’t know the exact time but knew it was way past two in the morning.
“Bella needed the bathroom.” Right on cue the puppy trotted into the garage, found an old towel on the floor beside an old gasoline can, and curled up into a ball. “And your thinking is louder than your tinkering.”
I huffed a laugh and rested my forearms against the edge of the car, rubbing my chin. “I’m going to a birthday thing tomorrow night.”
Her brows rose in confusion. “You aren’t sleeping because of a party?”
“Not just any party.” When she tilted her head, waiting for me to elaborate, I eventually caved. There wasn’t any harm in entertaining her curiosity and concerns. “Antonio’s wife’s birthday.”
She bristled, gripped her wheels, and rolled closer. “You’ve been driving for him too much already. It’s the weekend. Tell him you need the night off.”
“I was invited.” I looked at her from across my shoulder, arms still braced on the car.
She looked skeptical. “What does he want now?”
To gloss over a murder...
“Lily got an invite too,” I admitted.
My mother’s eyes lit up, quick to forget that I hadn’t exactly answered her question. Lily had very quickly become her favorite person, ever since I told her what she did for me four nights ago.
Any worry about the party also slipped her mind as she said, “You have a suit, yes?”
My lips twitched and I looked down into the engine bay. “Yeah.”
“And wear proper shoes. Not boots.”
“What’s wrong with these?” I asked sarcastically, glancing down at my boots.
She poked my arm. “I’m not joking. And wear a tie.”
“I’m not wearin’ a tie.”
She scowled but her eyes cut to my hair, hanging loosely across my brow. “Comb your hair. And iron your shirt.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She fell silent for a moment, reading my face before smiling softly as she lay a hand on my arm. Squeezed gently. “Promise me you will try and get some sleep tonight.”
I nodded once, offering her a tired smile of my own. “I’ll try.”
Chapter 42
Lily
The entirety of my Saturday morning was spent in bed. As if the walls of my room, and the sheets on my bed, could prolong coming to terms with what I witnessed last night.
I wasn’t ready to face the world yet and wished to stay in bed all weekend until I remembered the invite to Antonio’s cocktail party. But that was later tonight. I still had time to figure out how I was meant to act normal around a group of strangers while my insides curled in on themselves.
At least my period ended...
When I eventually dragged myself from the confines of the comfort zone that was my room, everything as simple as Kira closing a cupboard door echoed the muffled sounds of the gunshots — gunshots I hadn’t even heard, yet my brain still replayed the sound. I flinched when she closed the pantry and hunched over my mug of tea, staring into its milky abyss as I listened to her make a bowl of cereal.
How was I meant to walk into a cocktail party, on an invite from a mob boss and dressed in God knows what, when I could barely handle the sound of a door being closed?
“First date, hm? You guys are getting close.”
“It is not a date,” I said. My eyes narrowed on Kira’s reflection in her bathroom mirror. “It’s a birthday party for our boss’s wife.”
