“What did I do?”
Pure frustration leaked from his tone, and that sent me in a frenzy. “How can you not know?”
“Jesus Christ, Liana. Just tell me.”
He jammed something into the doorknob, and the lock popped. The door swung. He staggered inside and ran his fingers through his ebony locks. He was beautiful, but it echoed in me hollowly. It was like looking at a stranger. I no longer recognized him.
I hated him for that, too.
He’d ruined what helped me see past the darkness.
“You killed Daniel.”
Vinn’s gaze scanned me, taking in my state like a soldier assessing the situation. “Ignacio did it, not me, but yes. I signed off on his murder.”
Tears blinded me, his presence tormenting me. He seized his phone and pocketed it. Then he grabbed a tissue box, held it to his waist, and released.
It thudded near my feet.
“I couldn’t have stopped him from dying any more than you could’ve prevented gravity from making that fall.”
“Is that a joke?”
“Daniel was a rat. We kill rats.” Vinn backed against the counter, crossing his arms. “And I loathed him. I have no problem admitting I never liked him and wished him dead, many times.”
I balled my fists, reliving the pain of Daniel in the hospital, shutting off life support, and his coffin sinking into the ground.
“What did he ever do to you?”
“Nothing,” he admitted, softening. “It was what he did to you and Michael.”
“Like what?” I could barely hold back the venom. “Keep us safe? Feed us?”
“You have a very selective memory.”
His glare pierced my chest. As I approached him, his olive-black eyes dimmed to a soft smolder.
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Liana. The man was sick.”
My cheeks blistered. “What are you talking about?”
“He hit you both, especially Michael. You were so young. You used to cry when he walked into the room.” Vinn’s burning gaze stripped me bare. “You don’t remember?”
My head throbbed with a dull ache as echoes from the past resurfaced—my skull bashing into a wall, my body thrown into rooms, stewing in my bedroom with a raw cheek.
“I-I remember some things.”
“He was fucked up. He stabbed Michael once.”
“That’s a lie!”
“Ask him if you don't believe me. I was eight. I saw the whole thing.” The gravel in his voice disappeared into a hush I’d never heard before. “Michael bled all over the kitchen tiles. He almost died.”
I turned away from Vinn, shaking.
No. It must’ve been an accident. Daniel wasn’t a maniac. Sure, he’d been rough. At times, too harsh. Most men in the life had issues.
Right?
“I didn’t know you were that upset.” Vinn’s hand rolled over my shoulder, its weight reassuring. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
Are you kidding me?
I gaped at him, wondering if this was a bad joke. “That’s the problem. You have so little self-awareness. You hurt people all the time, and you don’t even realize it.”
“As long as you’re safe, hate me all you want.”
The same words he’d given me about Michael.
My mind worked overtime to parse that out.
He squeezed my chin and dropped a small felt box on the counter. “We leave for our engagement party in a few hours. Be ready.”
For what?
Why am I doing this?
Fifteen
Liana
I could get engaged with the devil I knew, or walk the aisle with the one I didn’t. When approaching it logically, the choice was simple.
Emotionally?
I was a wreck.
My throat tightened as I took in the beautiful setting—the deep mauve tablecloth stretched over a long table framed with a sheer-white canopy, draping in elegant arches. Chandeliers cast a magical glow over the silverware and the purple bouquet in the middle. It was perfect, and utterly confusing.
The mind-blowing confrontation with Vinn threw everything into doubt. He’d done extreme things in the name of protecting me, but he wasn’t an unfeeling, cold monster. If that were true, he wouldn’t let me stay at his house. My Christmas gift from two years ago wouldn’t be perched on his nightstand. He wouldn’t have a magpie-like tendency for all of my stupid presents. I’d snooped through his closet and found a shoebox filled with my letters to Iraq—they were all great condition—except one with the signature ripped off.
The discovery had squeezed my heart.
“I’m happy for you, sweetie.” Mom grabbed my hand, beaming. “Vinny is such a good boy. He’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
Mom had accepted the news of my engagement with open arms and a big smile, which seemed to annoy Michael. He shot Vinn a look of profound disgust and shook his head whenever I met his gaze.
I could hear the poor girl on loop in his thoughts. Michael believed his best friend had knocked me up, but he didn’t buy the fairytale romance. He’d already pulled me aside to demand I tell him the truth, twice.
“If he’s good, I’m the fucking Dalai Lama,” Michael muttered when Mom excused herself for the bathroom. “If somebody did that to my daughter, they’d get a one-way ticket to the Quabbin Reservoir.”
Daniel used that euphemism for years before I realized it didn’t mean a camping trip.
My fork slipped, scraping the ceramic plate with an ungodly shriek. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. Michael had been a moody asshole all night. Vinn would’ve told him to shut up, but he’d drifted aside to chat with relatives.
“I can’t stand him,” Michael continued, his nostrils flaring. “Pretending not to hate the sight of him is taking every ounce of self-control—”
“Can you give it a rest?” I hissed.
Michael sipped his wine and looked away. Then he swung to me, his expression no longer livid. “You got what you wanted, but I don’t think you realize what you’ve signed up for.”
My pulse skittered. I was uneasy under his scrutiny. “I’ve always loved him.”
“I know, hon. That’s why I pity you.”
“Michael,” snapped Carmela. “Enough.”
Michael shot her a quelling look before swinging his attention back to me. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”
I was weary of him. “Which is?”
“You’re stuck with a man who doesn’t connect with people and hates children. He’s said it over and over.”
I sighed, loudly.
Michael’s wife, a stunning brunette in a black, ruffled dress, smiled. “They all say that, Liana. Men have no idea what’s good for them. They need to be guided.”
“Really?” Michael murmured. “I seem to remember asking you out dozens of times. You were the one digging in your heels. A year later, we’re married with kids. Who has the better foresight?”
Carmela’s eyes flattened.
Michael needled her with a few hushed comments until he dropped his tone and whispered a husky, “I love you.” Carmela melted and kissed his cheek. He looked at her with a puppy-dog-like adoration that soured as a solid warmth sank into the seat next to mine.