bottom lip.
“How about the beginning? Also, if you want me to listen, you’ll stop playing with your lip in
that sexy way that makes me want to peel off those shorts.”
She swallowed her wine. All of it. Then she took my glass from my hand and did the same. I
refilled our glasses.
She put her hand out toward me in a gesture that signaled a handshake. I took her hand, slowly
shaking it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Caleb Tanner. My name is Gabrielle Deluca. That was my birth name.
Everyone called me Gabby.”
I stopped shaking her hand, but I didn’t relinquish it. Instead, I lowered it so I was just holding
it. “You will always be Sylvie to me, but please go on.”
She swallowed, taking a bite of her sandwich and chewing slowly. I tried not to let my
impatience show. “I’ve never told this story. I’m not supposed to, but if anyone deserves to know, it’s
you.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. I have so many questions, but I’ll hold off asking them. I don’t want
to interrogate you anymore,” I said, smiling wryly, hoping she’d take comfort from it.
“My father was in the Mafia.”
I almost choked on my drink. “What, like a wise guy? Like in
Goodfellas
or
Casino
?”
She laughed. “Hardly like that. He was an accountant. He cooked their books and laundered their
money. He’d never even used a gun. I know I told you I was from Boston, but I’m really from New
York.”
“How did a New York girl with a mobster accountant father end up in Podunk Prairie Marsh?”
She sipped some more wine, but she didn’t down the glass this time. “We were in witness
protection.”
I wasn’t totally surprised. It made sense and was actually one of the theories I’d come up with,
although the mobster image didn’t fit her father at all.
“They killed your mother, right? I just remember you referring to them as cancer.”
“You remember that?”
“I remember everything about that night, Sylvie.” I didn’t want to tell her it haunted all my
nightmares, or that the images were seared into my skull, like a tattoo.
“Yes, they killed my mother. My father worked for the Vincetti family. My mother forced him to
get out. He started collecting evidence and went to the Feds. They agreed to put us in witness
protection, but by then, someone in the family had found out and shown up our house. My father
wasn’t home. My mother hid me in the fake drop floor. I could see through a vent into the living room.
Edward Vincetti kept asking her where my father was, but she refused to tell him. He shot her,
execution style. I stood there like a statue as they killed my mother. They ran off right before the Feds
showed up.”
“I’m so sorry, Sylvie. I wish I had known.”
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone the truth. The cancer was a lie concocted by the US Marshals
who protected us. They trained me on what I was allowed to say.” She turned to me, new tears
forming at the corner of her eyes. I wiped them before they could fall. “I’ve told you so many lies, but
I wasn’t lying about how I felt for you. Never once. You believe that, right?”
I nodded. “I always knew there were things you were hiding from me, even as a kid, but
somehow I felt it was better not to ask you or you’d run away from me.”
“That was very astute of you, but you always seemed very intuitive.”
“The only intuition I have ever had was when it came to you. I always felt like we were
connected.”
“Me too.” I placed my hand on her knee, rubbing it. She looked down at it. “I need to get through
this, and it would be easier for me if you didn’t touch me right now.”
I lifted my hand. “I understand. I’m sorry I interrupted. I know this is hard for you.”
“Anyway, my father and I were relocated to Prairie Marsh. I wish you could have known him,
Cal.”
“I did know him.”
“No, I mean the way he was. Before my mother died. He was a good dad and husband.”
My jaw clenched. “And a criminal. He put you in danger. I know how he was with you, Sylvie,
and that’s all I need to know. I’m sorry you lost him that night, but you know I’ve never approved of
the way he treated you.”
“You have to understand it from his perspective. When he first started, he didn’t even know he
was working for the Mob. He thought they were all legit organizations until Edward Vincetti wanted
him to start doing some illegal things. In fact, my mother and I never knew…until much later. He
never once laid a hand on me, Cal.”
“Neglect is a form of abuse, Sylvie, but I won’t talk ill of the deceased anymore, especially not
someone you loved.”
“I think he always blamed himself for what happened to my mother. He thought I was at fault
too.”
“Why in the hell would he blame you?” I demanded. She winced in response and I immediately
felt guilty. I tucked a strand of her hair around her ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”
She twisted a piece of hair between her fingers. “’Kay. I’m getting to that part. I think you know
the rest of what happened to lead up to that night, though.”
“They found you.”
“Yes, but it wasn’t like a normal hit. At least, I don’t think so. They usually send people to do
that—professionals, so they don’t get their hands dirty. They didn’t. It was Edward Vincetti’s son,
Eddie Junior, and his uncle who came personally. Eddie was our age.”
“You mean that son of a bitch who shot you was only sixteen?”
“He didn’t shoot me. His uncle did. Eddie shot you.”
It occurred to me that my perspective on the events was somewhat cloudy since I had suffered a
concussion and bullet hole to the leg that night. “Are you still in danger?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“I don’t fear the Vincetti family per se. My father testified against Edward Vincetti and his
meticulous records sent the man to jail for a long time along with most of the key people in his
organization. He died in prison of a heart attack. The Mob isn’t what it used to be, Cal. Most of the
family is either in jail, dead or powerless. Besides the vendetta would have been against my father
and they took care of him. There is no reason for them to seek revenge against me.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Eddie’s uncle was found dead a few months later. Forensics suggests he was killed that night.”
I gawked at her. How had I not known this? “I thought they were never found.”
“The Feds made up that story to avoid questions. It was all covered up. Eddie killed him.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I think because he shot me.” She stared at me, and took my hand again. “Eddie and I used to
play together. I guess we were friends. My father liked that because it helped him move up the ranks
of the organization. He was never a normal kid, though. He used to do strange things. Anyway, he’s
still out there so I’m not really sure.”
“Tell me what he did to you.”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me. He bit you, didn’t he? You had a bite mark the day I met you, and one the day…” I
put my head down, unable to say the words.
“The day I died,” she finished for me. “Yes, he started biting me. He liked to draw blood. He
said we were playing vampires and it was normal. There were other things too.”
“Like what?”
“I think he killed my cat, Snowball.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I don’t have any proof, but he was always so rough with her, and then I found her behind
my house one day. Her skull was crushed.” Her voice cracked. I put my arm around her, hoping she
wouldn’t push me away again. She didn’t. She rested her head against my chest. “We were kids and
it’s hard to remember everything, but I was always so scared of him. He told me to never tell my
parents or his dad would kill my dad. At the time, I though he meant fire him from his job, but I think
he actually meant it literally. So I never told. I buried my cat in a shoebox in the backyard. My parents
assumed she ran away.”
“He’s psychotic.”
“I think he was, which explains why he came himself to finish the job. They would never have
sent him.”
“He wanted to take you. I remember him talking about it and then he whispered in your ear. Do
you remember what he said?”
She breathed in deeply. “He said he’d be back for me.”
My fists clenched and I had a sudden desire to pummel them into the nearest wall, but the last
thing I wanted to do was scare her even more.
“He’s not getting anywhere near you. If I had known, I would have always carried my Remington
with me, and I never would have let you out of my sight.”
She shook her head, and laughed cynically. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Tex. I was
already putting you in danger. Not just you, but your family. When your father died I was so worried
that it had something to do with my family’s past.” I straightened up immediately, but she calmed me
instantly by resting her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry, I had the US Marshal assigned to our case
verify it was random. It felt like a wakeup call, though, and I never wanted to be the reason for your
pain, so I tried to distance myself, but I couldn’t. Instead, I figured I could be there for you as a friend,
but in a secret way.”
“That’s why you never went out with me?”
“Partially, but also because you were the most popular boy at school, and we were instructed to
keep a low profile. I didn’t think dating you would be wise.”
“Damn, girl, you know how rejected I felt?”
“Yes, I had an idea. Trust me, it was harder on me.”
“How would it be harder on you?”
She turned and stared at me. “Funny, I thought we had this connection. How could it not be, Cal?
I wanted nothing more than to let all those girls who constantly vied for your attention know that you
were mine, but I cared for you so much that I was willing to let you go.”
“I wouldn’t have chosen that…ever. I would have given my life for you.”
She caressed my hand, and brought it up to her lips, kissing it. “I know. That’s why I chose for
you.”
“Were you packing that night I came to talk to you?”
“Yes, we were leaving.”
“You weren’t going to tell me? You were just going to up and leave me?”
“Only because I didn’t think you’d let me go and I was avoiding that conversation. I didn’t want
you to hate me like my dad.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled her onto my lap. I embraced her, feeling her beating heart
against mine. “I would never hate you. How could you even think that?”
“I didn’t think my father would ever hate me either.”
I tilted her chin toward me. “Tell me why he did, because you never explained that.”
“That was Eddie too. You see, my father was okay with being in the Mob in the end. He figured
he made a good life for us and he didn’t directly do anything immoral. He wasn’t really doing the bad
stuff. It was my mother who noticed the bites. I finally came clean and she insisted my father confront
Edward Vincetti.”
“Did he?”
“He tried, but it wasn’t so easy. Not only was Vincetti my father’s boss, he was also a Mob
boss. It’s a difficult conversation to tell someone in that position that his son is a psychopath. Edward
Senior made excuses for Eddie, saying it was just kids playing rough, and my parents were taking it
too seriously.”
“So, what happened?”
“Eddie kept wanting us to play. My mother always said no, but he was sneaky. He’d find ways
to get me alone. It was almost like he was infatuated with me or something. Finally, my mother told
my father he had to quit his job. That’s when he came clean and told her what he did for a living. I
was listening from that secret spot under the floorboards, spying on them. My mother threatened to
leave him and take me if he didn’t get out. It complicated everything. It’s not exactly the kind of job
where you can give your two-week notice. She gave him an ultimatum, insisting he get out of the
business or we’d leave. That’s when he started gathering evidence, and he eventually went to the
Feds.”
Surely, this couldn’t be the truth, but as outlandish as it was—Mob bosses, psychotic children,
witness protection—it all resonated as the truth. It seemed like a work of great fiction, but I knew
Sylvie was baring her soul to me. She started crying again and I pulled her toward me. She swung her
legs around me and hugged me, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m sorry, I’ve never told anyone all
of it.”
“I can’t believe you went through all this…alone.”
“I didn’t feel alone. Not while I was with you.”
“You never even went to therapy?”
“No, I’m not really supposed to divulge the details to anyone, but talking about it actually feels
good. I can see why therapy is helpful.” I couldn’t imagine what it was like for her, being alone in all
these secrets for so many years. I chastised myself for being such an idiot and not figuring it out. I’d
known she was harboring something, but I had never imagined this.
“Therapy can be helpful.”
She braced her hands against my chest and looked at me. “Are you speaking from experience?”