Wolf's Hunger (Mafia Monsters #5) - Atlas Rose Page 0,69

Heather said as she returned, carrying a small white envelope. “I hope it gives you the closure you’ve been seeking all this time.”

“Did you read it?” I asked, and took the envelope from her.

A smile and a shake of her head. “Lenny would’ve wanted that for your eyes only. He loved you, you know? In his own way. I think in a different life, he would’ve been an amazing father.”

“In a different life,” I repeated, and stared at the almost illegible scrawl on the front. Carina, Lenny had written. I looked at Heather and stepped closer. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” I said as I gave her a hug.

“Is everything alright?” She squeezed as she hugged me back. “I saw the news reports.”

“I’m fine.” I pulled away and forced a smile. “Just peachy.”

How could I explain it? Not only was I being used as a lure for the men I loved, but my best friend was out there…somewhere. She could be hurt. She could be alone. Probably scared to death and here I was…pretending none of that existed.

“If you ever want to talk…” Heather rubbed my arms and dropped her hands. “Well, I’m right here and if you hadn’t noticed…my schedule is wide open.”

I gave her a genuine smile that time. “Thanks, but I think I need to figure this out on my own.”

She gave a smile and stepped away. “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

“I do, and thank you for everything.” I waved the envelope in my hand as Heather went to the door, giving me an out.

I took it, leaving her and Lenny’s house behind, but I took the memories with me as I made my way to the blue Ford once more. I unlocked it and climbed in before I yanked the door closed.

All I could see was Lenny’s childlike scrawl on the front of the envelope. My fingers shook as I lifted the edge, tearing as gently as I could, and pulled out the single slip of paper inside.

Costello did this.

That was it. I flipped the letter over and then over again, all that was there was the one confirmation I’d needed all my life.

Costello…did this.

“Motherfucker,” I hissed and leaned my head against the headrest.

My head and heart were at war, fighting, clawing…yet neither drew blood, and it was blood I wanted. Had she played me? That’s what I really needed to know. Had Ruth pretended to give a shit. Had she lured me in…made me almost...care?

I clenched my jaw and slowed my breaths. It wasn’t just the letter in my hands, it was something else. That seed. That goddamn seed, trying to sprout, trying to grow roots inside my head.

“Did you play me for a fool, Ruth?”

Of course there was no answer. Nothing about all that was ever that fucking easy. My phone rang in my pocket. I winced at the sound, knowing too well what would happen if I didn’t answer. So I pulled it free, stared at Harlan’s number on the screen, and answered it. “Chase.”

“You working, Carina?”

“You’re paying me like I am. What’s up?” I ground out the words.

“Just checking up on you, you’re not in the office.”

“Out investigating, it’s what agents do, and I’m still an agent, aren’t it?” Please say no…tell me I’m on my own. One word and I was out of here, loyalty or not, I was running to the Wolves.

“Of course you are,” he growled, his breath a rush in the phone. “Careful, Carina.”

“Why the fuck should I be, when you’re watching me every second of the day and night anyway?” I pushed the point. “Tell me, Harlan. Tell me what the fuck you’re waiting for.”

But he never answered, just ended the call.

I let out a scream, throwing my cell across the passenger seat for it to hit the door and fall. “Fuck YOU!” My hands closed around the wheel, white knuckles burning.

I was losing…losing my grip on reality.

Losing my Wolves…and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

After all…I was the liability.

21

My cell rang again. The phone vibrated against the passenger’s door where it had fallen as I sat outside Lenny’s house and tried to get my shit together. I didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it was.

Harlan…

Careful, Carina, his words rang in my head.

I was tired of being careful, tired of being controlled. Tired of being used. This was what death felt like. A slow death, agonizing, consuming, like a rot that settled inside