“Maris?” Why did that name sound so familiar to her? She ran it through her head over and over, waiting for something to click. “V. Maris. Victor Maris?” Oh, shit, it’s the manager! Now she knew he needed his phone. Victor probably wanted to hear what Irish thought about whatever his guys were telling him.
She palmed the cell, shut the locker, and turned to leave the office-slash-break-room when the phone rang again with the same Caller ID. Damn, she thought, it must be important for him to call again so soon. She’d answer it, explain that Irish was still outside speaking with Sully, and that she’d make sure he called as soon as they were done.
“Hello, Irish O’Brien’s phone.”
Silence.
“Hello?” she tried again. “Mr. Maris?”
“Kitty-Kat? Is that you?”
Kat forgot to breathe and had to steady herself with a hand on the wall. She didn’t understand. Couldn’t make the pieces fit to make sense. Why would her sister be on the other end of the line? Why would her sister have Irish’s cell phone number?
“Kat, if that’s you, please talk to me.”
The woman’s voice was tinny through the miniscule speaker, but it was most definitely Nessie. Kat had listened to that voice in hundreds of voice messages and a handful of calls over the years.
Unable to do anything else, she ended the call and stared at the phone. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there—a minute, an hour—but as soon as the shock wore off, Kat stalked back down the hall toward the back door.
Betrayal slithered through her mind, making her skin crawl, as she realized that somehow she’d been deceived by the only man she’d ever trusted. Throwing the door open, she stepped into the oppressive heat of the night. Irish rounded the corner and came toward her.
“Kat, what are you—”
She held up his phone. “Why in the hell is my sister calling your phone? Fuck that. How is she calling your phone?”
His face fell. “Let me explain.”
“That’s a great fucking idea,” she said, her words sharp as knives. “Why don’t you start with how you know her and why she’s in your phone as V. Maris.”
“I don’t know her.” The lie had her drawing her arm back to throw his phone at him, but he held his hands up. “I mean, not really! I’m friends with her fiancé, Jackson Maris.”
She lowered her throwing arm and let that sink in. That’s why that name had sounded familiar to her. It was soon to be her sister’s last name. “You know Jackson?”
“Yeah. Years ago he came out to my training camp in Boston for about six months and we hit it off. He helped me out one time, so I felt like I owed him a favor.”
A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and acid threatened the back of her throat. “And this favor has to do with me how exactly?”
He shoved his fingers through his hair and shifted his weight as he looked around aimlessly before returning his focus to her. “Look, why don’t we ditch our shifts and go somewhere to talk about this.”
“No, I want to know right now. What the hell is going on?”
“Your sister was going crazy with worry over you after you took off in Tennessee.” Kat drew in a sharp inhale. The fact he knew about what happened in Tennessee meant he’d probably known about her situation with Sicoli before she ever said anything to him. “She hired a private investigator to find you, but she wanted to know more than just where you were, Kat. She needed to know how you were and if you needed help.”
“I didn’t involve her on purpose!” Fear gripped Kat at the thought of what could happen to her sister if Sicoli wanted to use Vanessa as leverage. “I didn’t want her getting mixed up in all the shit I was in.”
“I know and I get it, believe me. But if I thought for one second that Colleen or Mary Catherine were in trouble, I’d stop at nothing to do whatever I could to help whether they wanted it or not. Your sister’s no different.”
“It doesn’t give her the right to send in some total stranger to spy on me. And repaying a favor certainly doesn’t give you the right to inject yourself into my life under false pretenses.” The hot sting of unbidden tears blurred her vision, but she straightened her spine and willed them not to fall. She refused to let him see how defeated she felt inside. “I knew you had secrets, but I hoped you’d open up to me in time, like I did with you. I never dreamed you kept things from me because they were about me.”
She shook her head, still unable to believe the truth. Or unwilling. “I finally felt I could trust someone. I thought I could trust you, Aiden.” She scoffed and tacked on, “If that’s even your real name. Was any of it ever real?”
“Kat, please just listen—”
“No,” she forced out while taking a step backward. “It doesn’t matter. None of it does anymore.”