Page 17 of Secondhand Secrets

“Now, that’s a lie.” Luciano gave a soulless laugh, the small jolt of his shoulders bringing focus to his bright orange prison suit. “What are we gonna do about this?”

He motioned to the world around him, to the fluorescent lit room behind him with sickly, mint-green painted walls. Two other men stood in the background, also busy on video calls, other men lined up on a long bench behind, presumably waiting on their turn.

Though Mark knew full well who and what he was—a professional criminal motivated by money—few people got his compassion like Luciano did.

Luciano Conti, a decade older, with a head-start in the Syndicate, had made countless sacrifices for his family. Though his money wasn’t from clean or legal dealings, what he’d done with that money was provide for Mark in ways his parents couldn’t.

Unlike Luc, Mark had a college education and abilities and vision that outstripped his cousin’s. One day, he would break from the Syndicate but not until it was safe. Not until his obligations were fulfilled. Not until he had reinforcements strong enough to keep the Syndicate away.

Despite Luciano’s assumptions over the years, Mark didn’t look down on him. He owed him. Now Luc’s skinnier face, compared to the past, came as a cold reminder of what the stress of being incarcerated had done to him. That Mark should have taken better care of his cousin. Or at least, taken Luc’s troubles in Harlow more seriously.

But Luc’s famously heavy-handed approach didn’t always work, especially not against someone stealthy like Dean Holloway, which was why Mark had no choice but to get involved.

For payback.

For his own damn freedom.

“I can’t bust you out of prison.” Mark paused to replace the hollow edge in his tone with something more substantial and stoic. “But yes, I have a plan.”

Luciano gave a tight nod. “I’m not safe in here. Not until we make things right with the boss.”

Luc couldn’t mention Rudolph Manzinni’s name from inside prison, but he didn’t need to.

“I’m keeping the boss informed.” Despite the tension drawing at his muscles, Mark plastered on an unmoved expression. “I closed a deal today that will make everyone more money than ever. Better yet, this deal will leave the entire town of Harlow suffering.”

Appease Rudolph. Avenge Luciano. Make a ton of money… Get away from this entire clusterfuck altogether.

Mark wanted to smile but wasn’t the type to get ahead of himself, even if he had stumbled upon an ingenious means to hurt Dean Holloway and make truckloads of money in the process.

This job was only just getting started, and he had a lot of lost ground to reclaim with the Syndicate. Luciano—and therefore, Mark—had already failed twice. First, there’d been the botched mission to blackmail money from Emilia Bonacci, which resulted in Anthony Stucco’s death. Then there’d been the ensuing national news coverage. Amongst it all, Dean Holloway had escaped the Syndicate, the recovery mission to stop him then leading to Luciano’s arrest.

If Mark failed again, the consequences would be lethal.

So, there was no boundary he wouldn’t break. And not just with Dean. Mark would crush them all. Emilia, Blaine, the sheriff involved in Luc’s arrest… Dean’s woman, Sarah Overton.

Mark’s move to Boston was just the beginning, and one day, only when the job was done, he would celebrate.

“So, don’t you worry, Luc.” He smiled for the first time this conversation, feeling at ease. “I’m not stopping until we hurt every person who hurt us. Not until every last resident leaves Harlow, and that entire malignant town is leveled to the ground.”

Nine

Ally plastered on her brightest smile and stood before the couch, hovering like a weirdo above Chip’s sleeping face. In typical Minnesotan fashion, her parents had kept him from leaving last night, surprising him with the Star Trek board game they’d once reserved especially for his visits. Only last night’s rematch also included the pointy Vulcan ears and flight crew outfits they’d bought as his Christmas present that final year in Harlow but never had the chance to gift him.

Smile waning, she rolled her shoulders back and straightened the hem of her loose hot-pink t-shirt. Not that a wonky hem mattered all that much when teamed with the disarray of her t-shirt’s two fluffy, white kittens on the front, plus her bare feet, and her short gray pajama shorts.

“Still a fan of banana pancakes?” She startled a little at her own overly cheery tone just as Chip jolted, and his eyelids flung wide open.

He blinked at her awhile, like he needed a moment to remember where he was. “Ahh, yeah.”

He shuffled and groaned into a seated position, the green wool blanket at his chest slipping to reveal a strong set of shoulders and pecks. “I could do pancakes.”

A good few seconds passed before she noticed her attention still stuck on his far-too-appealing torso.

“Great.” Her voice shot up as fast as her gaze. “Just great.”

She spun away to hide the heat quick to engulf her face, although at least he couldn’t hear the panicked beat of her heart. “I’ll… ummm… get to cooking, then.”

Jeez Louise. That man. He’s just too beautiful…

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