My grandfather moves his eyes between the two of us, noticing the tension.
He peels his eyes away and gestures at Frank, when I flick my hand up.
“I don’t need him. I can find my way home,” I say, bringing the funeral to a standstill as I step to the side, careful not to sink my heel into the saturated ground and pick up mud on my shoes.
The crowd’s murmurs waft through the icy air as I fight my way away from them, yet no one dares to stop me.
“I’ll take her home.”
His voice splits through the air like a flying dagger, and no one in the crowd moves or breathes.
My grandfather whips his eyes to him, while Sylvia keeps her stare fixed on me, overly unhappy with how the entire story unfolds.
Something tells me she deeply dislikes that I’m being escorted home by Callum.
She might want to bite her nails in aggravation, but I can’t hide my satisfaction.
I’ve dreamed of this moment––to be acknowledged by him, even though regarded as a nuisance at the same time––since he became part of our family.
He knows how to bring a woman’s blood to a boiling point, and mine is just about to melt my veins open.
With great effort, I keep my jaw locked to suppress a smile.
“See. It wasn’t that hard,” I mutter, pulling away from my grandparents and heading his way, while he and his men pivotaway, locked in step, and make a beeline for the cars parked in front of the most notorious cemetery in Queens, New York.
2
LEILANI
I wishwe were walking next to each other, with him maybe holding a protective hand to the small of my back, helping me step onto the gravel alley before reaching the main road.
Sadly, he walks ahead of me as if he’s mad.
His loss, not mine.
I’m not crying crocodile tears.
Seeing him simmer in aggravation gets my rocks off, so it’s still a win.
He gestures toward one of the cars, and the driver rolls it closer before bringing it to a smooth stop. He climbs out and opens the back door for me.
My mouth falls open when I realize what the plan really is.
“Aren’t you coming?” I ask, staring at his back while he heads to a different limousine, followed by his men.
“Get in the car,” he thunders without looking at me, steadily moving away.
I sink my teeth into my lip hard to stop myself from screaming out my frustration.
He set me up.What a little fool I am.
Left in the middle of the road with my driver waiting for me to climb in, I have no other choice but to get in and forget about him.
Cold rain finds its way to my lips.
I reach into my purse while the driver slides the door shut. Slowly, I tap my lips, check my face in a small mirror, and retouch my makeup.
“I hate him,” I mutter to myself, happy with how I look, annoyed with how things have turned out.
