"It was a mistake, apparently. He's been out for a week now, only nobody told me until yesterday. Milo's trying to figure it out. But until theCarabinieritracks him down, it's not safe for you in Italy. I asked Declan to send the twins because they were nearer than us, and I was worried Dad would discover you were in Naples before we got there."
"You could have called me. I'd have kept myself out of sight." My apartment had decent locks. Besides, nobody knew where I lived apart from Anton.
Anton.
I reached up and touched my swollen cheek.
Maybe it wasn't so safe. Not after what he did.
With the beating Ronan gave him, he'd want revenge.
"I knew you were working and wouldn't check your phone, so I rang Declan and called in a favor."
I hummed a non-committal response, still annoyed about being kidnapped. As she told me what her lawyer had said, I wandered into the bathroom, only half listening.
My bruised cheek looked ugly and swollen under the harsh LED lights. The purple discoloration had expanded to cover my eye, which made me look like a domestic abuse victim.Oh wait.I was that girl. Had Declan told Thea about Anton?
I hoped not. She'd do more damage than Ronan had if she found out.
"I want you to come here," Thea was saying when I tuned back in. "Clemmie would love to see you. Fergus, too."
The thought of cute little Fergus with his apple cheeks made me smile. "Is he walking yet?" Thea's second child had turned out to be Landon's bio kid. A fact the Scottish dickhead made sure everyone knew. Fergus was cuteness personified, with his red hair and freckles. Unfortunately, it had quickly become clear that’s where the similarities to his sweet, shy sister ended.
The kid had a knack for finding trouble. And also making trouble.
"Yes, unfortunately. The little shit worked out how to open the front door. Lan caught him trying to make friends with Mrs. Thompson's Doberman. He screamed blue murder when the old bitch came out and hauled Brutus away. Lan said she lost her shit because Fergie stole a steak from our refrigerator and was busy trying to entice her dog back to our house. The bitch had the fucking nerve to threaten us with a vet's bill when Brutus had explosive diarrhea two hours later!"
Mrs. Thompson was their closest neighbor at the beach house. One of the many properties my sister and her husbands now owned in the US. A giggle escaped as I imagined the old crone's face when her precious dog started shitting through the eye of a needle all over her Italian marble patio. She only let him eat a specific brand of food, citing his 'sensitive' stomach.
"Let me guess, you're only inviting me back to the States because you need childcare." I snorted. There was a long pause before she spluttered,
"Well… no, of course not! Lan is more than happy to take care of the kids. That's not why I want you to come home, Ver!"
"It's not my home," I reminded her. "I don't have a home." My rental in Italy didn't count.
"Verity! You always have a home here!" Shit. She sounded upset, which wasn't my intention.
"I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that." Yet another foot-in-mouth moment. My secret superpower.
I tried to organize my thoughts.
"You know I love your home, and I know I'm always welcome. I just… I need to find my place in the world. Living with you and the guys won't help me do that."
Thea grumbled as I rooted through the bathroom cabinet, searching for some painkillers. If I didn't take something soon, my head might explode.
"I get it, Ver. If you'd rather stay in Ireland for now, that's OK, but we're your family, and this will always be your home too, if you want it to be." She went quiet.
A packet of migraine tablets came into view, and I almost cried with relief.
"I'll fly back soon."
Once I'd recovered, I'd make some plans. Message the girls I'd met in Italy who'd flown to Thailand. Perhaps a few weeks sunning myself on an exotic beach would help shift the low-grade depression that clung to me like pollution these days.
"Promise me you won't go back to Italy, Ver," Thea urged. "It's not safe."
"I won't." I hated being told what to do, but she made a good point about Italy. With our father on the loose, it was safer not to go there.
Most of our father's former associates were in prison, dead, or in the wind, but a few men still loyal to him might could be lurking. There were always soldiers willing to do his dirty work in return for a bite of whatever business he cooked up.
