“Did Rudy pay for your trip to New York City? Your hotel?”
He looks around again, from me to Shane and back. I have my answer, but I want to hear it from him.
“It was a bonus.”
“Right. And he told you who to bring?”
He nods. “Look, I don’t know her. Lizzie Abbot. Me and Mari, we have a good thing.”
“You know they’re fifteen, right? Statutory rape. Do those words mean anything to you?”
“No way she’s fifteen. They’re both older.”
“Did Rudy pay you to bring them to the city?”
“Yeah. Gave me the car to use and even got us a nice hotel.”
“And who does Rudy work for?”
“I don’t know. He’s my only contact.”
I grip his collar and haul him to me. He puts both his hands up in defense. “There’s a name I’ve heard. I’m not sure if that’s it.”
“And?”
“It’s a weird fucking name. Anger or something. Angus.”
I pause. “Last name.”
“Scava.”
Mother fucker.
I turn, walk to the garage door and push the button to open it. I look back at Matt.
“If I hear you’ve even breathed near Lizzie Abbot, I will break more than your nose, understand?”
“Yeah, man, yeah. I don’t sell to her. It’s Mari. Mari likes the stuff.”
“I don’t give a shit. Don’t go near her again.”
I walk out to my waiting car, my men following. “Let’s go see Benedetti.”
31
Persephone
Lizzie is in her room packing clothes and schoolbooks when I slip into the study to find the book still in the drawer I’d hastily shoved it into. I open it to where the photograph is stuck between the pages and I think I understand it all now. After seeing the letter Nora left, things fall into place. Make sense.
“Ready,” Lizzie says from behind me, startling me.
I turn, closing my palm over the photo and tucking it into my coat pocket. “Okay. Let’s go.”
I’m surprised she didn’t put up more resistance about having to stay at the club, but I think she’s scared. I think what happened shook her up.
She hasn’t bothered to put on makeup or straighten her hair and is wearing an oversized top and baggy sweats.
“Hey,” I start, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now.”
“Why is he helping us?” she asks me.
I bite my lip.
“Because you’re sleeping with him?”
“Lizzie—”
She shakes her head. “I’m not judging you, Percy. I know you’re doing what you think you have to do. Material things aren’t worth it, though. The house. The business. It’s not worth it.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“You like him. That’s how it’s complicated?”
I open my mouth to answer, but she shrugs a shoulder. “At least he’s not a complete creep like his brother but I wouldn’t trust him. You know how much dad hated them.”
“I trust that Hayden doesn’t want to see either of us get hurt. And I need his help right now. Can you trust me at least?”
“Just don’t be surprised if he turns out to be a jerk.”
“Let’s go see dad.”
A driver takes us to the hospital. Hayden wants a guard with us, which, given what happened with Lizzie, I’m not opposed to. Although I need to take care of something that he can’t know about.
Celia is waiting for us at the hospital and, after a big hug, she takes us into dad’s room, telling the guard he has to wait out in the hallway because of the number of visitors allowed inside. I’m not sure if she just made that up or it’s true but I’m grateful.
Lizzie goes right to dad to take his hand and start talking to him and Celia slips me her car keys.
“I just need an hour, Celia.”
“It’s fine. Keep it as long as you need it.”
“What do you need an hour for?” Lizzie asks.
“I need to take care of something. Can you stay here with dad until I’m back?”
She squints her eyes. “What are you taking care of?”
“Can you just do this for me?”
She considers. “Sure.”
“Thanks.”
Celia unlocks a door that leads to a back corridor and I slip out, walking quickly to the stairs and taking them down and out to the parking lot. I locate Celia’s car and within a few minutes I’m heading to Jonas’ apartment in the city.
Traffic is light but it’s the middle of the morning so it should be. I park Celia’s car and head to the front doors where the doorman greets me warmly.
“Percy! What a nice surprise.”
I smile and say hello. “I’m here to see Jonas,” I say. “I took a chance he’d be in.”
“He didn’t mention anything but I’m sure he’ll be pleased,” he says, obviously getting the wrong idea.
I think about how Jonas and I appeared to others. A perfect couple. A happy one. How wrong that image was. Is.
“He’s got someone upstairs but I’m sure he’ll want you to go straight up.” The elevator dings and he moves to open the front doors to another tenant exiting the building.
I thank him and a few minutes later, I’m riding the elevator up to Jonas’ eighth-floor apartment, my hand closed around the photo in my pocket.
Making my way down the lavish corridor, I find two men in suits standing just outside Jonas’ apartment door. They watch my approach but neither of them greets me. I’m about to say something when the door opens. I hear an unfamiliar voice and just as I stop a few feet from the door, the man turns.
I meet his gaze. And I freeze.
Because there is something very wrong about this man.
Jonas comes into view to see what’s made the stranger stop. “Percy,” he starts. “What are you doing here?”
“Percy?” the stranger repeats stepping toward me and holding out his hand. He must be my father’s age and it takes all I have to keep my revulsion in check because I don’t want to touch this man. “The fabled Persephone Abbot, I presume.” He raises an eyebrow and I realize how awkward I’m being, so I slip my hand into his to shake it, but he brings it up to his mouth instead and brushes his lips against my knuckles. “More beautiful in person than your photos do justice.”
“Where have you seen photos of me?”
“Oh, here, in your fiancé’s home, of course.”
Jonas still has photos of me around? I glance at Jonas who looks so small next to this man. So out of his league. I clear my throat and steel my spine.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know you.”
“Angus Scava. A pleasure to meet you.”
I don’t recognize the name and am grateful when Jonas interrupts. “I’ll call you later about that matter, Angus.”
The older man drags his gaze from me to Jonas. His mouth stretches into a smile that doesn’t touch his eyes and when he releases my hand, it takes all I have not to wipe it off on my coat.