Sparrow - L.J. Shen Page 0,104
hallway closing in, suffocating the shit out of me. I couldn’t lose her. Wouldn’t lose her. Red was the one thing I wouldn’t let anyone take away from me.
Cat thought about it, raking her fingers through her hair and sighing loudly. It was all an act. She didn’t want me to succeed. Didn’t want me to find them. She knew whatever it was I was looking for had nothing to do with her and everything to do with my wife. I guess it killed her to know I’d moved on to better things. That she was no longer the center of my personal life.
“Cat, please…” I couldn’t help it—my voice shook.
“My mom,” she said finally, her voice brittle. “Mom might know where he is. They’re close. She loves him, probably more than she loves me. That’s why she hates you so much.” She smiled bitterly, blinking away her tears.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Thank you,” I whispered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Take care of Sam. He’s the best thing that happened to you.” To us.
“What? Wait, where are you going? Why did you say that?”
But I was already out the door, hopping back into the cab and throwing more money at my driver.
Maria was at my penthouse.
And she had some explaining to do.
SPARROW
I FELT LIKE I’D been digging forever when Brock motioned for me to drop the shovel. “I’m going to the car to get some pain killers,” he announced, rubbing his side. “For me, not you.”
He hauled me over to a tree and tied my hands to the trunk.
That bought me time. I wriggled and pulled at the rope, and desperately prayed that somewhere in Boston, Troy was using that time to try and find me.
When I heard Brock returning, I slumped to the ground, pretending I’d been passed out all along. He untied me and put me back to work, but now he decided to be chatty. He sat on the stump, clutching his side every now and again, but generally as cheerful as a freaking girl scout.
“Oh, I just can’t wait for you to get to her.”
Cold and exhausted, I felt so physically sick, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. I didn’t answer.
“I just love it when families reunite,” he continued, his face glowing with a smile.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I spat out. The blood on my forehead was beginning to dry and itch. I wanted to scratch it off but was afraid the psycho would think I’m was making some kind of move and shoot me. After all, I tried it before.
“Shit, I forgot he didn’t tell you.” He put a hand over his mouth like he had just let a secret slip and was now beyond embarrassed. “You’re digging up the same grave where your husband buried your mom.”
I shook my head trying to make sense of Brock’s words. Troy didn’t even know my mom.
“You lie,” I seethed, turning around to face him. I couldn’t stand on my injured foot, but I no longer cared. Not about anything, really, other than what I have just heard.
“I really wish I was, sweetheart.” He cupped his bent knee, leaning forward and giving me one of his glorious smiles. So calm. So, obnoxiously calm. “He wrapped her in a white sheet, so even if you don’t find her rotting body and she’s all bones, maybe you’ll still be able to spot her. Maybe you’ll find a little souvenir of mommy dearest. Of course…” He scratched his forehead with the barrel of the gun, deep in thought, “That wouldn’t do you any good, considering the fact that you’re not going to stay alive for much longer.”
“I know he didn’t kill her,” I told him. And me. “He was just thirteen when she took off.”
“That’s true. He didn’t kill her. He just buried her out in the woods, oh, fifteen or so years later, so that no one would find out Cillian died in his mistress’s bed. Right, I forgot you still have some catching up to do. Your mother? She dumped you and your miserable excuse for a dad for Cillian Brennan. Robyn used to meet up with him in a cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere, in these very same woods. Worked the lunch crowd at a diner in Amherst, but came here every Tuesday to start her second shift as Cillian’s bitch. Yeah, this was her kingdom.”
He opened his arms and gestured around him. “Must’ve been