He interrupts before I can continue, his free hand gesturing wildly. "Don't act like you're some saint. Like you're better than the rest of us. You're willing to marry a man like Luan Krasniqi. Do you even know who he is? What he does? The blood on his hands?"
"I do know," I say quietly. "I know exactly who he is. And I love him anyway."
Henry's laugh is sharp and bitter. He smirks, the expression cold and calculating despite the drugs. "Love! That's perfect. That's why he's going to pay the ransom I asked for. One million dollars to get his precious fiancée back. By the way, thanks for not changing the password on your phone since you were twelve."
My stomach drops. "Luan might pay. But he'll come after you, Henry. You know he will. There's still time. You can let me go right now. Disappear before this gets worse."
Henry and Sarah look at each other. For a moment I think maybe I've gotten through. Maybe there's still a chance.
Then they both start laughing. Manic. Unhinged. The sound echoing off the concrete walls.
"Luan will never know who kidnapped you," Henry says, his voice full of false confidence and drug-fueled bravado. "I'm smarter than you think. I made it look like the Irish mafia did it. He'll go after them, not me. By the time anyone figures it out, we'll be long gone with the money."
"I know it was you!" I yell, my voice cracking. "I'll tell them the truth!"
Sarah moves closer, her footsteps deliberate on the concrete floor. Gets right in my face, close enough that I can smell the chemical sweetness on her breath. When she speaks, her voice is eerily calm, practical, like she's explaining something obvious to a child.
"And what makes you believe you're going to be around to tell anyone the truth, Lily?"
They're going to kill me. They don't plan to let me live.
I look at Henry, trying desperately to see something of the boy he used to be. The awkward teenager who lost his parents tooyoung and struggled to cope. The brother I tried so hard to save, to protect, to keep from drowning in grief and bad choices.
All I see is a stranger wearing my brother's face.
Sarah goes back to the table casually, like we're having a normal conversation instead of her casually discussing my murder. Bends over and snorts another line with practiced ease.
I'm starting to see them clearly now, maybe for the first time ever. See them for what they really are. Not victims of circumstance. Not people I can save with enough love and money and sacrifice.
Just selfish. Just users.
"The baby?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Already knowing the answer. Already feeling it settle into truth.
Sarah doesn't even bother looking at me this time. "There is no baby, Lily. There never was. Same way there were no real gambling debts that needed paying. We just needed money for other things." She gestures loosely to the table covered in white powder and drug paraphernalia. "This shit isn't cheap. And we like the good stuff."
The words land like physical blows.
There is no baby. There never was a baby.
Everything I sacrificed. Every choice I made. Every compromise. All of it based on a lie. A manipulation. A con designed to extract money from someone they knew would always give it.
I let my head hang forward, chin dropping to my chest. Final understanding washing through me.
I'm not responsible for saving him. I never was. He doesn't want to be saved.
42
ARTAN
Trusting an Irishman inside his own bar feels like stepping into a wolf's den and hoping the wolf is house-trained.
We're in the cramped manager's office of the Gold Shamrock, the four of us standing shoulder to shoulder in a space meant for two people maximum. Luan, Erion, Cormac, and me. All staring at the wall of security monitors mounted above a cluttered desk, screens flickering with black and white footage showing every angle of the massive sports bar below.
The place is absolutely packed. Wall to wall bodies. A Bears game playing on every screen throughout the venue, the commentary bleeding through the office's thin walls. People cheering, drinking, screaming at referees through their beer. Completely oblivious to the predators hunting in their midst.
I don't trust Cormac. Not yet and maybe not ever.
Looking at him now in the blue glow of the security monitors, I can see the resemblance to Luan that I missed before. The green eyes that are too distinctive to be coincidence. The sharp line of his jaw.
