It had been a while since I’d heard that name, but I knew immediately what sleazy piece of crap she was talking about. Tom the fucker. The one who’d lured us all to the Big Noise meeting where we almost got blown sky high by an Altissimo/Wilson bomb.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, my fear of dying in a massive, seventeen-car pileup fading as I focused on Vee. Tom was a sore point for all of the band, with his current control of Florence’s share of royalties.
“We need to kill him,” Giana said with a small laugh. “We should do it today after we get Billie her gun.”
She said it so casually, and I was instantly reminded of the vast difference in my upbringing from these two badass ladies.
“Oh, he’s definitely going to die,” Vee said with her own laugh, “but I think we can use him to our advantage before we make that happen. That bastard got in with my family, with the Wilsons, and with a few others, all so he could rip off Florence, Bellerose, and who knows how many others. I would like to see him used to our benefit before we bury him alive.”
I had no idea if she meant that literally or not, but I was interested to find out more and also to get to the bottom of his sleazy dealings. The secret marriage to Flo, the inheritance that she probably didn’t know about. It was all a lot of shady fuckery.
But first, we were getting facials and massages. Girl’s day out with two mafia chicks, and I’d never felt more at home.
twenty-one
RHETT
Jam session with my boys was exactly what I needed after getting that call from the hospital, but as much as playing music calmed my tense, confused soul… my mind needed work. Neededhelp. So I sent a tentative SOS message to Dr. Candace when we were finished in the studio.
Her assistant replied immediately and let me know that Dr. Candace had an opening at her room in an hour, so I jumped in the car to go see my shrink in person. Video appointments had been a lifeline while we were in Europe, but it was easier to open up in person.
“Head straight in, Mr. Silver,” the receptionist told me with a professional smile when I arrived.
I gave her a nod of acknowledgement, not even bothering to take off my sunglasses until I was safely inside Dr. Candace’s office.
The doc herself was pouring a coffee from the pot set up on her sideboard. “Want one?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.
“No,” I replied, plonking my ass down in one of her armchairs. “Thank you,” I added, remembering my manners.
She wasn’t bothered, just finished making hers before coming to join me in the matching chair.
“So… what’s happened to spark an SOS from you?” She wasn’t making fun or annoyed, just calmly interested. She genuinely seemed tocareabout fixing me. No, that wasn’t accurate. She cared about helping me fix myself. I liked that about her.
I drew a deep inhale, bracing my elbows on my knees. “The hospital called. I’m a match for Jeremiah. He wants my liver, or a piece of it anyway, to save his life.”
She gave no reaction, just nodded thoughtfully. “That must be something you considered as a possibility when you got tested.”
I blew out a harsh breath. “Yeah, I guess? But that was before he refused to let me see my mom. I really thought…” My voice croaked as bitter disappointment welled up in my chest.
“You thought that they would repay your kindness with kindness themselves,” she said, understanding me perfectly. “I think that is the natural human expectation, especially for someone like you, Rhett, who does always seek out the best in people. It's understandable that you’d hope they’d at least extend some basic courtesy while you considered it.”
I nodded, at a loss for words. Ididthink that my showing up to be tested would be enough. Enough to justseeher… my mom. “It feels like he’s using her as leverage to get what he wants,” I admitted in a rough voice. “Like he’s blackmailing me to force me into saving his life. What if…” I trailed off, not wanting to voice the horrible thoughts in my mind.
Dr. Candace waited patiently, then gave me a little push when I didn’t continue. “What if what, Rhett? What are you thinking?”
I wet my lips. “What if she’s not even alive? He could have easily killed her, and I’d never know. I haven’t spoken to her or even laid eyes on her since… Since the night I left his cult. She could be dead, and I wouldn’t know.”
The doctor's brows raised, and she gave a thoughtful breath. “You’re right.”
I stiffened. “I am?”
She nodded. “Yes. Youdon’tknow… The last time you saw her was over ten years ago. Anything could have happened in that time, and from what you’ve told me, Jeremiah sounds capable of hiding a murder.”
I frowned. “Um… doc, I don’t know if that’s… uh… That isn’t really helping my stress levels.”
Her answering smile was kind. “I know. But it’s the truth. And you’re being presented with an opportunity now, after more than a decade, to find out for sure if she’s still alive and well. Can you cope with turning your back on that chance?”
My lips parted in shock. “You think I should do the transplant?”
