kept her head down and worked—when she could keep a job. Mari was terrible with keeping work, even though I’d gotten her plenty of jobs over the years. And even though Mari didn’t have a cent to her name, she’d give her last crumbs to a starving pigeon if she felt like she could help it, maybe because not many people tried to help her, and she knew how it felt.
I itched at a raw spot on my side from the dress. The cheap material made me feel like I was wearing one big fucking shirt tag. “I’m going to get out of these clothes,” I said, going for my room. “Don’t even think about leaving, Mari!” I yelled over my shoulder. I could see her eyeing the door. “We need to work on a plan. We need to get your shit together before you disappear on me. If you do, no fucking joke, I’m going to hunt you down.”
Before I made it to the hall, she took a seat on the sofa. It was second-hand and threadbare, but Mari sunk into it like it was made of the finest silk. I sighed, understanding. My feet were on fire from standing on them all day. I ditched the dress—if it wasn’t rented, I would’ve burned the bitch—and put on a comfortable sweater with yoga pants. It took me a few minutes to tame my wild hair into a somewhat respectable ponytail. When I made it back to the hall, I stopped before Harrison and Mari noticed me.
Harrison sat next to Mari on the sofa, talking to her.
My family and I called him “Grumpy Indiana Jones” behind his back. For as far back as I could remember, Harrison was always a man. He was one of those kids that could pull off a suit and tie at two. But around Mari, he never sounded as grumpy as he did with everyone else. So to hear him be nice to her pulled at my heartstrings. She really needed it, but I also knew she hated it, and I didn’t need her to find any excuse to run away from me.
“What did you do?” I said, shocking them both. Mari startled like they had been caught doing something wrong. My brother stood, putting some space between them, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“Nothing, Kee,” he said. “I gave Mari a gift for her birthday, sort of.”
“Her birthday isn’t until October,” I said, pointing out the obvious. Not for the first time, I wondered how Harrison truly felt about Mari. It seemed to go beyond a brotherly type of relationship for him. He’d never admitted it to me, and I’d decided not to admit my suspicions to her, but sometimes it was hard to see him look at her and not think, there’s more there.
Harrison shrugged. “I hate being late.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but a loud knock came at the door. I looked toward the sound, wondering who’d be coming over so late. Sierra wasn’t home, and unless she was, her boyfriends stayed away. Her men went wherever she went.
“Expecting someone?” Harrison asked.
I shook my head. “No, Sierra said she was going to be home late.”
“I’ll get it,” he said.
Mari came to stand beside me while Harrison talked to someone on the other side of the door. A minute later, he came in, followed by two men.
SHIT! The word buzzed to life like a neon warning in the darkness of my mind.
He wouldn’t.
“Keely,” Harrison said. “This is Detective Scott Stone and Detective Paul Marinetti.”
Scott stepped up first, offering his hand, playing his part well, but the softness in his eyes was so apparent to me. He let his hand linger a moment too long before the older man offered his. His partner. Scott had mentioned him before. Scott thought that he needed to retire, and he felt Paul was too soft on hard criminals. More specifically, ones affiliated with organized crime.
In general, Scott didn’t agree with everyday crimes, but he seemed to have a separate extremely hard spot for anyone associated with organized crime and the like. Scott and his family specifically went after gangsters and the “families” they belonged to with a passion that almost bordered on obsession. It went past the job and became personal.
After meeting his family in Louisiana, I found the reason why: his aunt and unborn cousin were killed by a drunk driver, who also happened to be the son of one of the most notorious Italian