Page 18 of The Golden Hour

I nod, emotion clogging my throat. “You never answered me this morning—if you knew who I was, why did you take me in? My family has caused yours so much pain. I just… I don’t understand.”

She squeezes my shoulder gently. “In my experience, the past is never as important as we think it is. It’s what we do now that matters. Everyone needs a little help sometimes, and I’m just glad fate brought you here. And don’t forget—I happen to be an excellent judge of character, and you, my dear, have a good heart. One of the best.” She winks. “Plus, my customers love a pretty face.”

I laugh, grateful for the humor. I was close to embarrassing myself with tears.

A quick glance around the bar tells me Molly’s right—I’m really not needed. “I think I will head home,” I say after a moment. “I need some time to get my head around… everything.”

To find the courage I need to leave you.

“Good.” She grabs a rag, then asks without looking at me, “You’ll be there when I wake up tomorrow, won’t you?”

My heart jolts. “Yes, of course,” I lie, glad I can’t see her eyes.

“See you in the morning, then. Oh, and, Grace?”

“Yes?”

She glances over her shoulder. “You’re not alone anymore. You have a home, and, if you want it, a family.”

“Thank you, Molly,” I whisper, then flee to the back before the first tear falls.

By the time I arrive home, my eyes are dry and my limbs buzz. The conviction I found on my walk today has blossomed, enveloping me with frenetic purpose.

The Avellinos are a tribe of moral thieves, leeching goodness from the world. I’ll never be like Vivian and my uncles, or even my father. Cruel and ruthless. Ambitious to the point of tyranny.

But maybe I don’t have to be.

Maybe I can be better.

11

I’m jolted from sleep by someone pounding on my motel door. Blinking groggily, I take in the light behind the curtains, which is brighter than it should be. A glance at the clock has me doing a double take.

It’s seven thirty in the morning. I slept close to eighteen hours.

“Finnegan McCowen, I know you’re in there!”

My aunt’s voice is shrill, with an edge of panic. Throwing off the covers, I stumble to my feet.

“Coming!” I bark, wincing at the pins and needles in my feet as I lumber to the door. The chain is barely free when the door flies inward. I lurch backward to avoid being hit. “Whoa! What the hell?”

Molly storms into the dim room, then spins toward me in a flurry of righteous rage. “What the hell did you say to her?”

I blink. My eyes hurt. My brain feels like Swiss cheese.

“What?”

“She’s gone! Gone! Left her cell phone and most of her things. So tell me what you said to her to make her run!”

Callisto.

A heady surge of adrenaline wakes me right the fuck up.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” I demand, snatching my discarded jeans off the floor and yanking them on over my boxers. “And why do you think it’s my fault? I didn’t threaten her or anything.”

Only, I kind of did. I was a major dick and probably spooked her into leaving town.

“She told me she’d be here in the morning,” says my aunt, and alarmingly, she looks like she’s about to cry. She sits heavily on the foot of the bed. “She has no one, Finn. I’ve never met anyone so alone in the world as that poor girl.”

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