“They’re not blood?” My voice rises without my consent, the tone filling with feminine emotion I despise as I swing an arm toward my sister in the kitchen. “Keira made mistakes, too. And don’t get me started on your wife.”
He flashes his teeth in a snarl. “Choose your words wisely, sister.”
“I have. For years. I’ve done everything wisely, with extreme caution, always keeping everyone here at the forefront of my mind because I want to make up for what I did. For how I allowed my own father to manipulate me. But that’s what it was, Cole—manipulation. Our father tricked me. Used me. Just like he used so many others. And yes, I know it’s still my fault. And yes, I profited from it and have to live with my decisions for the rest of my life. But what I won’t live with is you throwing it back in my face whenever the whim takes you.” I sniff to kill the tingle in my nose. “I won’t take the overbearing protectiveness anymore. I won’t play along with you thinking you can decide where I go and what I do. Or that you need to know why I cancelled my credit card or how I got a goddamn bruise on my face. What I do now is my business.”
Cole raises his chin, slow and deliberate, the anger receding as smug superiority takes its place. Then he inclines his head as if in agreement.
“That’s it?” I frown. “You’re not going to say anything?”
He gives a faint shrug. “You’re doing me a favor.”
That hurts.
Really hurts.
I want to hunch from the pain he slices through me, his rejection tearing open old wounds as my eyes burn like wildfire.
“Cole,” Anissa pleads. “Don’t say something you’ll regret.”
“I won’t regret it, little fox.” He keeps his gaze on me as he speaks to his wife. “As far as I see it, this is perfect timing. Layla no longer wants me to know her business, and I’m more than happy for her not to know mine.”
There’s an ominous ring in his tone. Something that alludes to a deeper meaning.
“You see, sister, I’ve wanted nothing more than to claim retribution against those who murdered my niece’s father for years. But I held back because you begged. You fucking pleaded in the most pathetic display of weakness I’ve ever seen. So I gave you what you wanted. What you needed to move on, because I couldn’t risk you jumping further off the rails. But with this new outlook on our relationship, I guess I’m no longer burdened by your wants and needs. I can take what I’m owed. What we’re all owed.”
I stiffen, my lungs tightening.
He’s going to claim the retribution I’ve been trying so hard to achieve. He’s going to take the only chance I have to right my wrongs.
I panic, wanting to backtrack but not knowing how. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m sure you’d love to know.” He looks at me with self-righteous indignation. “Unfortunately, though, it’s now clear we don’t share that kind of information.”
16
Layla
“You’re not going to tell me?” My limbs quake with fury.
“You tell me yours. I’ll tell you mine.” Cole smirks, the curve of his lips sickening in its arrogance.
“Fuck you, you manipulative piece of shit.” I shove at my place mat, the heavy material scooting forward to topple the salt and pepper shakers. “You’re just like our father.”
His eyes flare. I don’t stick around to take more of his toxicity. I storm for the sofa, snatching the old purse I’d found at home to tug the strap over my shoulder.
“Layla, wait.” Keira hustles toward me from the kitchen. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not staying.” I continue to the sliding glass doors leading outside and yank them apart, plastering on a fake smile as the gentle breeze brushes my face. “Stella, it’s time to leave, sweetheart.”
She raises her gaze from her cell screen and snaps a glance toward Tobias sitting on the lounger beside her. “I’ll see you at the airport?”
“Yeah.” He jerks his chin and gives me a quick finger wave. “See you next time.”
I should hug him goodbye. I should at least walk out there to speak to him properly, but I’m the shortest step away from my breaking point. One inch in the wrong direction and I’ll drop this temperamental bag of emotions and cause a scene.
A far bigger one.
I keep my sham of a smile in place for Stella’s sake and wait patiently at the front door for her to say her farewells, my animosity bubbling below the surface.
Cole and I always disagree. We fight. It hurts. This isn’t a first.
What derails me, though, is how I’d become used to the idea of me being the Costas’ downfall. That I’d be the one to gain vengeance for my daughter being abducted and my husband’s murder.
I wanted that accountability.
The atonement.
I need it.
I battle the panic of approaching failure as I escort Stella to my car parked out front and drive us both home. I don’t allow her to see how my world is crumbling. How I’ve let her down again.
While she’s busy packing for her return to school, I do the same, grabbing clothing and toiletries. I also arrange store-bought debit cards and stockpile cash for a longer-than-usual escape. And when it comes time to drop Stella at the airport, she has no idea a suitcase of my own is stashed in the trunk.
I kiss her goodbye in one heartbeat and stride my ass to a check-in counter to book a flight to D.C. in the next.
I don’t spare more than a thought at not knowing Matthew’s surname, or where he lives, or even works for that matter.
I fly across the country on impulse, arriving after nine at night with absolutely no clue where to go once I climb into a cab.
Layla: Tell me about these clubs of yours. What are their names?
My text to Matthew spits in the face of the anonymity we’ve tried to maintain. Our contact since Denver has been mostly seductive or complimentary, and my stomach twists with the possibility of him ignoring me entirely.
Matthew: Why, amore mio? Searching for skeletons?
I should be. By now, an extensive background check would’ve been done if Cole was involved. But I haven’t snooped. Instead, I’ve fallen deeper, and allowed trust to blossom where skepticism should.
Layla: One day I might make a surprise visit. But I can’t do that if I don’t know where you work.
His reply is instantaneous—Don’t tease, woman.
Layla: Me, tease? Never. Just tell me where you’re likely to be if I arrive in D.C. unannounced.
He doesn’t respond. Not for several long minutes that turn my stomach into a bile pit.
I glance out the cab window, my teeth gnawing my lower lip as I watch the illuminated skyline pass by.
This can’t be a mistake. I won’t let it be.
If I misjudged Matthew’s interest I won’t allow the rejection to sting. He may have wanted me here days ago, but those were his terms. His timeline. Now could be different. There may be another woman on his arm. And God knows we’re far from claiming exclusivity.
If things don’t work out, I’ll take this as an endeavor to gain breathing room from my family. I’ll indulge in spa treatments. Get my hair done. Dine in fancy restaurants.