“It used to be.” I only realized that I was crying because a swipe of my hand over my stinging eyes did nothing to stem the tear tracks coursing down my cheeks. “Please, Keira. I … I need to understand.”
“If she ran away, she must have done so for a reason.”
“Please, Keira,” I repeated. “If she asks me to leave, I won’t push the issue. We were really close in nursing school.”
“She was a nurse?”
I shook my head. “Shepassedbefore graduation.”
The tidbit of information had her sighing. “She lives on the compound for the time being. Her Old Man… he died and she couldn’t keep up with the mortgage payments on their place. We only found out about it when the bank foreclosed.”
“Which room?” Stan pestered.
“Second floor.” Her jaw worked. “If she asks you to go, Kitty, you go.”
“I will. I swear.”
“Room 28.” As I headed back to the building, I heard her call out, “Jessie, go and make sure everything’s copacetic.”
I didn’t care that I had two shadows, didn’t care that the yard was part gravel, part soil and these shoes had been made for being worn around Stan’s ears. I just rushed into the clubhouse as fast as these fuck-me heels would permit and shot up the stairs.
When I reached room 28, Stan snagged a hold of my hand. “You’re faster than you look. Especially in those damn shoes.”
I ignored him to stare at the door. “Why would she pretend to be dead, Stan?”
“Jen’s father did that back in the late nineties, early two thousands. He had an issue with the…” His eyes widened. “Albanians. Fuckers have been a problem for longer than I’ve really thought about.”
God, he was right. Padraig O’Donnellyhaddisappeared. Everyone knew he’d only ‘reincarnated’ to get money from the Five Points to pay the ransom demands for his hockey star son—the now New York Stars’ captain. That kidnapping had been a complete clusterfuck!
“Beatriz—”
“—wasrelated to Martinez,” he interrupted. “After herdeath,he discovered someone had blackmailed her. The piece of shit had a nonconsensually recorded sex tape.” His hand cupped my shoulder. “She had a lot to run from.”
“How do you know any of that?”
“Martinez told me.”
More misery filled me. “S-She never said!”
“Why would she?”
“We were friends!”
“You’re Irish, and she was, technically, aLobo Rojo.Didn’t you know?”
“N-No. But I never outright told her my family’s Irish Mob either. It’s not something you share when memorizing the 6 Ls of hypokalemia together.”
He tugged me into a half-hug. “She clearly wasn’t in her right mind when she took off?—”
The door clicked open.
Beatriz stood there.
Arms folded against her chest.
Face pale, eyes as wet as mine.
The lack of welcome made sense considering everything that was going on, but it still hurt.
