Closing my eyes, I sighed striving to clear my head for sleep when I heard a sound coming from outside. I sat up in my bed and turned my ear towards the window, faintly I heard it again, a desperate whine and what sounded like someone or something moving around the bushes of the backyard.
I shot out of bed and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, then sneaked to the door and opened it a crack listening. The house was dark and silent, I crept along the doorway and slowly took one step at a time down the stairs. In the closet by the entrance, I found a baseball bat.
The sound of footsteps was getting closer. Then there was a rattle of keys in the knob and immediately I dropped the bat unwinding. Seconds later, the alarm was disarmed and the front door pushed open.
“Holy shit,” my father cursed, startled by my darkened silhouette. I flicked on the switch and the darkness faded. “Are you trying to kill me?” He rubbed his chest.
“No, but it seems like you’re trying to get yourself killed. Were you in the garden?”
“Why would I be in there? I’m coming from the airport, a taxi dropped me off.”
I peeked out the window. “Didn’t see or hear a car.”
“That’s because he left a while ago, I was looking for my keys. What is this? Why are you questioning me?”
He wheeled in his luggage and locked the door. I studied my father with pity. He was a mess. The shirt he had on was wrinkled like he hadn’t changed it in days. His entire demeanor was wilting. He was thin with dark-hued circles around his eyes, shading his eyelids making him appear lifeless. He was younger than Uncle Vinnie but had much more gray hair than he did. He was pale, his skin flaccid, almost translucent where it was stretched against his cheekbones.
“I heard something out in the garden.”
“Well, it wasn’t me.” He started up the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”
He didn’t go to bed. He went into his shrine. I ran my hands through my hair blowing out a harsh breath. I didn’t know how to help my father, although many times I attempted to broach the subject. He was killing himself by not accepting the fact that Pamela was gone and never going to return. Chichi, on the other hand, was alive and well, but there was no way I would tell him about her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Christina
Ibrushed my hair while Ezra stared at me through the mirror, shamelessly gawking. The way he watched me always left me marveled. It was curious how much interest he had in me. I blew him a kiss and he winked with a gorgeous grin.
“My father’s here,” he announced. “He got in last night.”
“Oh.” Rolling my hair up, I turned to him. “Should I be worried?”
“No.” He shook his head. “He’s probably gone to the hospital by this time. He practically lives there.”
I moved closer until I was standing in front of him, needing to address the subject we’d been putting off. “We never talked last night.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t handle having you in my bed and just talk.” He placed his hands on my waist, hauling me nearer. “Let’s go have something to eat and then we’ll talk.”
“Sure, in a bit.” I smiled weakly, disappointed with his answer. He was buying time and we both knew it. “I have to take a shower first.”
He kissed me and then rushed out of the room. The secrecy was killing me. I didn’t know how much longer I would hold on before demanding an explanation. In all fairness, I’d been patient. More patient than I ever thought I could be.
I headed for the closet to search for a towel. My mind raced, trying to envision what Ezra’s secret could have been. What could be so awful that he couldn’t tell me? Briskly, I pulled on the handle but something heavy pushed the door from the inside. I let go and the door sprung open. Just in time, I leaped back, avoiding being crushed by a duffle bag on its descent and money disbursed from it, flying in all directions. So much money.
Slightly dazed I blinked, glancing around the room as if the explanation of what happened was hidden in one of the white walls. What the fuck is Ezra doing with all this money? I looked down as the last few green notes settled around my feet. My mouth agape.
Amongst the pile of green, I noticed a blue booklet. I crouched to pick it up and there was more than one. They were three. And passports. I opened the first, flipping through the pages, it was blank. When I landed on the page with the personal data, all the blood drained from my face straight to my heart which was beating harder than ever.
It was Ezra’s picture on it, however the name read: John Perry Linett. I knew the passport was recent, even though the issue date was two years back, because in the picture his hair was short.
“I thought I heard a noise,” Ezra said, walking in. “Is everything ok—”
He froze, taking in the sight of me ankle deep in dollar bills. Slowly his eyes leveled with mine and we were both rendered speechless, locked in a stare-down.
“I think we need to talk,” he finally spoke.
I threw the passport at him. “You think?”
Ezra
This wasn’t how I wanted her to find out. I paced forward, trying to close the gap between us.
“Don’t come any further.” She raised her hand. “I can hear you perfectly well from here.”
I was cornered and my only escape was the truth. I sucked in a breath and began, “Christina, last year I got myself—” I was cut short by the sound of the doorbell ringing. I tried to start again but the ringing was incessant. “Let me get rid of whoever that is and I’ll be right back.” Before I left, I paused at the door. “Benefit of the doubt, remember?”
She nodded.
I ran down the stairs to find it was Rowan.
“What the fuck?” I paused. “Can’t you people leave me alone?”
“I would like nothing more than to never see you again, but Mommy wants to see you.” He flashed an annoying toothy grin.
“Tell Mommy to shove ten pounds of cocaine up her ass.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder ushering me forward. “Tell her yourself.”
“I’m busy.” I shrugged from his hold.
Rowan reached for his gun but did not draw it at the sound of a crack from the old wood of the stairs. His eyes moved up, past my head. Letting go of the gun, he adjusted his jacket to conceal it.
“I didn’t know you had a visitor. Is she why you can’t go?”
I flushed. My hands quivered at my sides anxiously. The only thing running through my mind was how to get Christina out and away from Rowan.
“She’s nobody,” I spat and heard her gasp. “That’s just a pussy I’ve been hitting as a distraction. In fact, I was looking for a way to get her out of here.”
“That’s no way to talk about a lady.”
“She’s not a lady, just a piece of ass.”
Rowan squinted his eyes and addressed Christina. “Have we met? I feel like I’ve seen you before.”
“I don’t think so,” she said curtly. I could sense her eyes burning a hole through my head.
I couldn’t let Rowan make the connection, and I needed Christina to leave. So, I hit her where I knew it would hurt the most.