Page 55 of Possessive Mafia Vows

Which brings me full circle back to why he lied about what time he got home.

My stomach twists when it occurs to me that he might not have been lying. What if he snuck in at midnight as he claimed, but with company? What if he brought a woman home with him, and the sounds I heard at 5 a.m. were her trying to leave before I woke up?

I don’t know which is worse. Him lying to me, or the mental image of him fucking a woman in the other room while I’m there. And if that’s the case, is it going to be a regular occurrence?

Closing the gallery for the night, my movements grow sluggish as lack of sleep catches up on me. I’ve always been independent. I had to grow up fast when my mom died, and I’ve always looked after myself, but I feel like a lost and lonely sixteen-year-old again. I’m afraid to go home, but the thought of going back to my father’s apartment for a second night doesn’t exactly fill me with holiday cheer.

I retrieve my coat and purse from the office and check my messages. They’re all from Victoria, begging me to call her back. I know I should. She has a newborn baby to look after, she doesn’t need her best friend adding to her already overloaded stress levels. But tiredness is crashing through me in waves, and I don’t have the energy to tell her everything that has happened.

I message her instead, to stop her from freaking out:

Sorry V, been super-busy. I’ll call you tomorrow. Give the baby a big kiss from me.

I haven’t even met Holly yet.

My best friend is experiencing the most momentous, life-changing experience, and I’ve not been there for her. I’m a bad friend. I’ve let the situation with Nick and Kyle get out of hand and I’ve taken a backseat in my own life.

Well, not anymore.

I’ve got this.

I’ll go back to my father’s apartment, grab my stuff, and then I’m going home. Kyle promised to protect me, so now’s his opportunity to show me what he can do.

I feel like a bird released from its cage, and I practically float towards the door. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner—there’s no reason for me not to stay in my own apartment if Kyle’s men are guarding me. I don’t need to be in the Wraith. Wherever I go, they’ll go too.

I take a taxi to Queens. It’s an expense that I could do without, but I’m still riding on the buzz of taking charge of my own life again. The holidays are almost here. I’ve given my dad more effort than he deserves. And there’s no possibility of Nickturning up at my apartment with a reservation for dinner in some swanky Manhattan restaurant.

Tonight, I’m going to make some grilled cheese and sleep.

Tomorrow, refreshed, I’ll start looking for another apartment.

“Didn’t your key work?” my father asks when he opens the door to let me in.

“What key?”

He stands aside, and I join him in the narrow hallway. No lights are on in the apartment, I notice, and I can see the flickering lights from the TV in the living room.

“I gave you the spare key this morning.” He closes the door and turns the key with a click that jangles my nerves.

“No, you didn’t. You must’ve forgotten.”

He stands too close to me, and I can smell his stale breath.

“I left it in the kitchen for you.” He sniffs loudly.

“It’s probably still there. Shall we go and check?”

I lead the way. I need some time to think without having to stare at his hunched shoulders.

I’ve no idea how old my father is, but I would guess he’s in his mid to late sixties. Is he too young to start showing signs of early dementia? Or was he simply suffering from a massive hangover this morning and there’s an enormous black hole where his memory should be?

Something spicy is simmering in a pan on the stove and my stomach growls, reminding me that all I’ve eaten today is a slice of cold pizza.

I turn around to face him. “Where did you leave the spare key?”

“In the fruit bowl.” He gestures to an empty dish with nothing but dust and fluff collecting in the bottom and then stirs the food in the pan with a wooden spoon.

“Maybe you left it somewhere else.”

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