“Oh, spare me your sudden display of ethics,” I said with a wave of my hand. “That’s how it works. I don’t go after men who can’t afford it, I’m not that cruel. Most of them are cheating on their wives too, so how about them apples? Besides, it’s not a quick scam. It takes months to build up a fake relationship. But that’s why I usually have six on the go at once. Makes it worth my while.”
He gulped down the rest of his drink in a fit of thirst. “All right, well what happened in Cincinnati?”
It suddenly felt very stuffy in his kitchen. I was tempted to open the window above the sink but I could tell the breeze had picked up and was blowing around dust from the groves.
I started sliding the razor blade charm back and forth along my necklace. “I just picked the wrong guy. And I got sloppy. I thought he was an American, but he wasn’t. He gave me a fake name and that should have set me off. Who says they’re Steven when they’re really Sergei? He also had a lot of money to throw around. Too much. That should have also set me off. He kept sending me gifts to my PO Box in St. Petersburg, really flashy items that I had to pretend I’d gotten, like pearls and diamonds. Really makes me want to take a trip to Russia and empty it out. Anyway, I got the money from him in the end, way more than I normally get and then I disappeared.”
I took a sip of the iced tea and said, “Everything was back to normal for about a week. The money had been wired to my offshore account as usual. Then I got an email from an ex-boyfriend of mine. Said he was in town and would I meet him for a drink. So, I did. Turns out it wasn’t my ex, but Sergei and that big bald bull was pissed. I barely got out of the bar.”
“So what do you think happened?” Uncle Jim looked pained and I couldn’t blame him. I was only twenty-six, far too young to be playing with Ukrainian mobsters.
I shrugged. “The only thing I could think of was him contacting the post office in St. Petersburg about the PO box. I couldn’t remember what name I signed up for the account with. He might have traced me to Cincinnati somehow. I lived with my ex for a couple of months, and I’m guessing he went there under false pretenses, got the email of my ex, and impersonated him. I totally underestimated Sergei. I think he was involved in a bunch of bad things.”
My uncle’s eyes turned hard and flinty. “This ex of yours…is this…”
“No,” I said quickly. “No, this was some guy I met at the rock climbing gym. Jack. It was short and sweet. And what are you getting at?”
He raised his fingers and looked to the side. “Oh, I just heard some things, that’s all.”
“What kind of things? And from who?” Panic was starting to press on my chest. He couldn’t be talking about who I thought he was. I mean, he could not. It was impossible. Oh shit.
“Whose car is that outside?” he asked.
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
“How do you know about all of this?” I asked, shooting to my feet and sending the bar stool clattering behind me.
“Easy there, Hellie.” He was back to calling me my nickname from high school. It would have been charming had my blood pressure not been through the roof at that moment. Ativan. I had Ativan in the trunk.
“I talked to your parents a few times, you know. More than you have, ” he continued.
I blinked stupidly. “Okay, aside from the fact that I can’t believe you’re talking to them again, I don’t know what my parents could possibly know about—”
“You falling in love with a drug lord?” he supplied. “Oh, they know enough. It’s a small world out there. If you double-cross enough people, you’re bound to double-cross them again.”
His words coated me like fine dust. My parents were alive and kicking. They were talking to my uncle. And somehow they knew all about Javier.
“What did they tell you?” I asked quietly, hiding my hands behind me so he couldn’t see them shaking.
“Well, they are back in Gulfport. No, maybe it’s Biloxi. Somewhere on the coast. And apparently they aren’t the only ones visiting their past.”
I couldn’t believe it. Why on earth would my parents return to Gulfport? We fled from that place like it was a life and death situation and I’d grown up believing it was.
“Didn’t you return to Gulfport after you left here?” he asked me, as if he could read my thoughts. “Maybe they went back for the same reason.”
Yes, but I went back for revenge. For what had happened to me all those years ago. For what had scarred me for life.
“So what did they tell you?” I asked. I ground out the words like hard kernels.
He scratched beneath his ear and looked down into his glass, examining the floating crystals. The sun was streaming through it, causing a tea-colored stain to dance on the walls. “They mentioned how you had been living in Gulfport after you left Palm Valley. They hinted that you’d switched sides for a few years, shacked up with one of Travis’s men. Javier…something Spanish. Then, for whatever reason, you left. Took his money and his car.”
I swallowed hard. I wanted nothing more than to run out of the house and back into that said car and drive far, far away. That was always plan A and it had worked out great so far.