“That’s not your concern.”
“Luca.” Her tone is derisive. Demeaning. “This won’t go down well. She’s going to lose it.”
“No shit.” But I’ve managed worse. A bullet to my head for starters. Not to mention the numerous times Penny has attempted to kill me. I talked her down from those ledges… well, I manhandled her from the cliff a time or two, but I still got the job done.
“So you can handle her tears? Her grief? Her heartbreak?” She raises her brows. “You can be a shoulder for her to cry on?”
“She doesn’t cry. Never has.”
“And you realize that’s unhealthy, right? She needs to let it out.”
Yeah, I realize. I realize too fucking much where Penny is concerned.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, squeezing tighter and tighter to stave off the building headache.
“Luca?” This time Penny’s call is frantic, the tone etched in fear. “Luca.”
My heart drops to my gut. “Fuck. I left the television on the news.”
“Goddamnit.” Sarah lunges forward, shoving past me to jog down the hall as I rush to close and lock the door behind her.
The television volume increases as I run after her.
“—Abigail Foster, a twenty-five-year-old who went missing four months ago,” the reporter informs the viewers, “miraculously returned to her family yesterday, only to take her life overnight.”
I reach the entry to the living room and get hit in the chest at the sight of Penny standing before the recliner, a hand clasped over her mouth as she shakes her head.
The television cuts to a middle-aged woman cradled by the side of a stricken man. “Our baby had only just come home to us,” the woman sobs. “Now she’s gone.” She buries her face in the man’s shoulder. “My baby is gone.”
The vision returns to the newsroom, the anchor’s emotionless face filling the screen. “Initial reports state Abigail Foster’s disappearance was due to a secret elopement. She only returned when the relationship dissolved.”
“No,” Penny seethes, no sorrow or tears in sight. “No.”
Sarah reaches for her. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
My warrior pulls away, distancing herself from vulnerability. “What’s going on?” She turns to me, blinking rapidly as those pleading eyes beg for information. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry, shorty.” I start for her, wishing I had more than useless condolences. “I don’t know.”
“This isn’t happening.” There’s a wealth of conviction in her voice—so much pained adamance. “Abi wouldn’t kill herself.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.” I don’t know what else to say as I raise my hand to brush my fingers along her sweater-covered arm. “I wish there was something I could—”
“She didn’t kill herself.” She slaps my hand away. “She wouldn’t. I know her, Luca. There’s no way she’d take her own life.”
Denial is a bitch. I know from experience.
“What you all went through in Greece was traumatic,” Sarah murmurs. “It would affect each of you in different ways.”
“Can’t you hear me?” Penny snaps. “I know her. She would never do this.”
“Penny.” I reach for her again. “It’s—”
“No.” She shoves by me. “They’re wrong.”
The continued denial slices through me as she rushes for the hall, disappearing around the corner.
I should go after her. I should do something. But I’m still wading in indecision when her bedroom door slams moments later.
“That went well.” Sarah turns off the television, the thick silence closing in on me. “What are you going to do now?”
I know what I want to do. It’s the same damn thing I’ve itched to do since the moment we got here—to push her. To force her to face what’s going on. To shove her toward tears instead of isolation. She has to stop hiding and finally start grieving.
“For starters, I’m going to call Benji and find out what the fuck he was thinking returning that woman to her family when clearly she was unstable.”
“Don’t blame Benji. This isn’t his fault.”
“It isn’t?” I raise my brows. “You sure?”
She winces. “Luca, his job was to get them prepped for the questioning that would arise once they returned home. He only had to make sure they were aware of what would happen if they spilled any secrets.”
“Well, maybe he made them too aware. Maybe he scared the fuck out of her to the point where she couldn’t cope.”
“Luca.” My name is a warning. “You’re too invested in this. It’s just a job.”
Like hell it is. I’m so far down the emotionally invested path with Penny that there’s no going back.
“Thanks for your help, Sarah.” I start for the hall, my tone demanding she follow. “But I’ve got it from here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are. Get the fuck out.”
“No, I’m staying until I know Penny is okay. Unless you plan on physically removing me, you need to get used to having me here.”
I swing around, glaring.
I’d have no problem heaving her over my shoulder and dumping her on my front lawn. In fact, I’d appreciate the inevitable cat fight, my climbing blood pressure demanding an outlet. It’s her rare expression of panicked concern that makes me pause.
She’s worried. Not just for Decker’s sake.
Fuck her and her perfectly managed manipulation. Even though I’m well aware she’s potentially playing me, I’m struggling to turn away someone who cares for Penny. My battling warrior needs all the support she can get.
Even from a crazy-ass bitch like Sarah.
She holds my gaze, not moving, not backing down.
“At least make yourself useful and start the coffee machine.” I continue to glare as I retrieve the cell from my pocket and walk onto the deck to call my brother.
My pulse pounds through my skull with every ring. Once. Twice. When the line connects I grind my teeth, waiting for the muttered greeting from the only member of my family I have left.
“What the fuck is going on?” I demand. “I’m here watching the news and wondering why the hell you didn’t call?”
“Excuse me for having my fucking hands full. You’ve got no idea what it’s like with these women.”
“So it’s true? The news reports have it right?” My nostrils flare as I strangle the deck railing with my free hand. “After days dealing with you, she finally returned home to kill herself?”
“How the hell would I know? I dropped her off and hightailed it out of there. I don’t know what happened after that.”
“How was she when you dumped her?”
“I didn’t dump her. She was fine.” Frustration tightens his tone. “She was hopeful. Maybe even fucking excited. The other women thought the same, too. Then this happened.”
“This can’t be completely left field. You had to have a clue.”
“Don’t judge me,” he snaps. “She was fine. She was happy. She didn’t dance a goddamn jig into the dining room every morning, but she was ready to go home. Don’t blame me for what happened. This isn’t my fault.”