“Headed north up 123rd Street, bro,” he say through quick breaths. “I’m following, don’t worry.”
“Let me know when you figure out.”
A bitter laugh floats down the line. “Yes, boss.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Go on.”
“Well, just check yourself, man. You kicked this chick out ‘cause you didn’t to complicate things at home. And now look at what you’re doing — you’re paying me and my men a fuck tonne of money to keep an eye on her every move. We’re camped outside her apartment, both her jobs. You’ll calling me up every thirty minutes, Donn. What’s the deal? Why do you care?”
Silence pours down the line for a few seconds, before I interrupt it. “Let me know when you figure it out.” I repeat, stabbing the ‘end call’ button without knowing if he actually heard me.
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself, too. Why do I care?
It’s easy to tell myself it’s because I need her to stay safe. If anything was to happen, or she was to disappear out of New York, then who knows what will happen to my marriage visa?
She also lives in a really rough neighborhood, and she hasn’t even gone to check out the apartment I gave her. I need my men to make sure that nothing bad happens to her.
I’ll stop when the year’s up. That’s how I rationalize it — but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
“Daddy,” Daisy gurgles, running head first into the kitchen, her school shoes slapping clumsily on the marbled floor.
“Hey baby,” I say in surprise, hoisting her up under her armpits and balancing her on my knee. “What are you doing home?”
Coralie appears in the doorway. “The school is closed for the afternoon. Apparently we’re in for a storm, so they’d thought it’d be best to send the kids home early.”
I smile down at my delighted daughter, her gappy smile beaming up at me. “Is that right?”
“Yes, but don’t worry, sir. I’ll make sure we’re out of your way.”
“I guess I have ten minutes to spare,” I say, kissing the top of Daisy’s forehead. She curls her arms around my neck, using my chest as a ladder. Suddenly, she pulls back and shoots me a confused look.
“Daddy, where’s Violet?” Her eyes scan the kitchen, as if Violet is just about to jump out of the pantry. Coralie mutters something about tidying up the nursery and scuttles off.
“Violet doesn’t live with us anymore, sweetie.”
I’m surprised to see her face crumple like a used tissue. “Why?”
“I told you it wasn’t going to be forever.”
“Will she come and visit?” My heart is sinking with every gurgly word coming out of her mouth.
I stroke the back of her head and rearrange a ringlet. “No, baby,” I say softly. “Probably not.”
“But I just made her a new necklace,” she pouts. “Can I give it to her still?”
My reply catches in my throat. “If you give it to me, I’ll pass it on. Okay, love?”
She lets out a sharp hiss from her nostrils, a bratty move she’s learned from her mom. Exactly why I can’t run the risk of leaving you here with her.
“Go on, go find Coralie, daddy has to do some work,” I say, letting her climb down me and run out of the room.
Just as I’m opening up my laptop again, ready to refresh the tracker map, Lianne walks in. Judging by her pursed lips, she’s been listening.
“Sounds like Daisy is upset as I am about Violet’s sudden disappearance,” she says. Her eyes don’t meet mine, instead, she puts all of her focus on aggressively wiping down the surfaces with a damp cloth.
“She’ll get over it,” I reply, feeling defensive.
“Mmhm.” She moves onto the floor now, sweeping up imaginary dust with short, loaded strokes. The bristles hit the base of my barstool.
“Go on then,” I sigh, slamming my coffee cup on the counter. “I know you’re dying to say something.”
“If I was your mother, I’d smack you round the head right now,” she snaps, leaning the brush against the wall to fold her arms in defiance. “I’m so mad at what you did to her.”
“To who?”
“Violet!” She yells in frustration. I’ve never seen her so mad at me. “She’s such a lovely girl. Really brightened this place up. I liked her, Daisy liked her.” Her withered finger jabs inches from my face. “You liked her—” I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off. “Don’t deny it, Donnacha! I saw how you acted around her. So much so that you’re now doing god-knows-what to keep tabs on her.” She picks her broom back up and continues sweeping, faster this time. “And I know you put that tracker on her jacket. I felt it when I did her last load of laundry.”
I don’t know what to say, but I feel more on the defense than ever. “It was for the best,” I reply simply, my face burning as I stare at my screen.”
“For who? What exactly are your reasons for not wanting to let her into your life?”
“To protect Daisy. She doesn’t need a stepmom.”
But even as the words come out of my mouth, I can feel what Lianne feels. The excuse I’ve used so many times is beginning to wear thin, beginning to grow old.
Now that Daisy is upset Violet isn’t here, that argument doesn’t even hold any weight anymore.
Lianne puts the broom back in the cupboard and shoots me one last dirty look. “The only person you’re protecting is yourself.”
28
Violet
ONE MONTH LATER
Sometimes, fate puts you exactly where you need to be.
I had no idea how I’d even pay my rent when I quit my job at Starbucks. The wages from the diner alone barely cover my travel costs and interest on my credit cards. But only a few days of moping passed before something incredible happened.
Fate came in the form of a phone call. From a private hospital in the heart of Manhattan. They were looking for a part-time receptionist, preferably one trying to get into the medical field. They said they’d gotten my name from someone at the faculty who knew I was looking for work. I can’t think of who that’d be — but I don’t care. The hours are completely flexible around my classes, and they even encourage me to bring my books in to study during the quieter times.
But that’s not even the best part about it. It’s the pay.
I balked when they told me how much the salary is. More than some full-time corporate jobs up-town! Certainly more than what the diner and Starbucks were paying me combined. I’ve been there for almost three weeks now, and I love it. The people are friendly; the work is easy, and the nurses are always on hand to help me with any study questions I have.
Life’s getting better, getting easier, one day at a time.
But even though New York city is warming up as it prepares for Spring, there’s still a dark cloud that hovers over my head.
Donnacha.
Try as I might to forget him, he’s not exactly the type of man that’s easily forgotten.