“I haven’t.” She’s so close to my face. Her face bright red from anger.
“No? Are you sure? Because I have a very good memory, and I recall you telling me just yesterday that I couldn’t call my parents because the less they knew, the safer they would be. Get them here now, goddamnit. I want, no, I deserve to know everything. My God. The mob! This is insane! We’re better off just putting one of those guns you steal to our own heads and blowing our brains out. Those people don’t mess around.”
“Calla. Enough.”
Our attention swings to the door. Neither one of us heard it open.
“Well, speak of the devil. Hello, mom and dad. Or would you prefer I call you Bonnie and Clyde?”
“Sit your ass down, and watch your mouth.”
John Greer stalks into the room. The fucker is big. I’m talking huge. He towers over his daughter. The two of them stare each other down. Her stubbornness matches his.
“I’m a little old for you to be telling me what to do. Considering the lion’s den you all have thrown me into, I think you should sit down. Or better yet, start fucking talking.”
Her mouth. Christ almighty. If we were by ourselves right now and she kept on running her mouth like she is now, I’d love nothing more than to… Yeah. Fuck, I’m not going there. I palm my hands down my face, then toss a glance at Manny, our eyes saying the exact same thing. This is about to get real ugly.
Chapter Twelve
Calla
I feel like an energy field. My emotions have all of a sudden risen past their capacity; even though they’ve been pushed to the max, someone is still feeding me just to see how far I will expand.
“Last time I checked, I was the parent in our relationship. So if I say sit down, then sit the hell down. And if I say shut your mouth, then I mean shut your mouth,” big, bad John says.
I’m not afraid of my dad, especially when his soft eyes give him away. He’s towering over my tall frame trying to intimidate me. I want to laugh, no, spit in his face. My entire life has been nothing but a lie. I move to the couch and sit. Not because he told me to, but because I deserve to know what the hell is going on.
“You look like hell,” my deceitful mother says.
Her long, dark hair is pulled into a ponytail. Her loving eyes that look so much like mine send me an apologetic look. She’s in on this, too. Everyone is. Along with Manny, who’s standing off in the corner by the door.
“Yeah, well, what do you expect?” I ask through clenched teeth. “I came here for a divorce, not expecting to be carried away by a lying, cheating, and now criminal husband.”
I peer around my mother, who is now standing in front of me with eyes shooting bullets at my husband. I wonder if he steals those, too. I could use about four of them right now to shoot every one of these deceitful, mafia-loving people. Okay, not really. I could never shoot my parents.
“How long?” I demand.
It’s a simple question, really. One I deserve to know the answer to. I seem to be the only one left in the dark here by the way everyone is looking back and forth at each other as if they’re deciding which one of them should fill me in.
My parents sit down next to me. A fond memory flashes through my mind from when I was five years old. The three of us were sitting on the couch exactly like this while they told me our family dog was struck by a car and died. I cried like a baby, kicking and screaming for Hopper to come back. My dad held me for the longest time, stroking my hair and reassuring me that all dogs go to heaven and Hopper would be waiting there for me someday. I feel just like that little girl again. Except I’m not, I’m an adult. One who has been lied to about everything.
It’s my mom who speaks first. Her hand comes to rest on my knee.