her, my heart rate rising. She happens to move closer to the
window where I stand, unaware that I’m nearby. But she comes
close enough for me to see her expression. Anxiety sharpens her gaze. She looks frantic, turning around any male guest near my age to get a glimpse of his face.
She is looking for me. And she’s afraid.
Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m out of the house
and into the ruckus of the party. I lose sight of Fay.
The unsettling feeling that I’m being watched grips me once
more. The relentless music and the roar of chatter oppress my ears. I cut a look to either side, but there’s no sight of Hank.
Looking for Fay, I nearly crash into a waiter carrying a tray of fluted champagne glasses. A man with a barking laugh shoulders past me, as if I’m not even there. A woman with too much kohl smudged around her eyes asks me if I’ve seen a little white dog in a clown collar. Dizziness fills my head like water. I spin away, when a pair of dark, sultry eyes meets mine through the blur of faces.
I’ve never been happier to see Fay. She runs up to me, out of
breath.
“Lon. Where have you been?” Her eyes still flash with unmistakable fear.
I grip her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Fay? What happened?”
She catches her breath for a moment. Or is she perhaps
searching for the right words?
“You were right,” she begins, her voice tight with clenchedback emotion. “I’ve been keep a secret from you. From the very beginning. I never should have—
“I know,” I say, pulling her into my arms. I can’t bear to
see the shame on her face. She’s hardly to blame for the sins of her family.
But she pulls from my grip, staring into my eyes with confusion, even a little betrayal.
“How long have you known?”
“I only just found out. But I don’t hold it against you, Fay.
Your family may have mob ties, but that doesn’t make you
a criminal.”
She steps back.
“I watched you from the window,” I say softly. “You looked
so afraid. Are they coming for me? Your family?”
She shakes her head slowly. “You don’t get it, do you?” She
grabs my jacket lapels. “You’re in danger, Lawrence.”
“I know that. Did you tell your family I jilted you, and now
your father wants to defend your honor?”
“What? No! My father’s not the one you need to be afraid of.”
“Then who?”
Fay’s eyes grow dark, even in the intense, golden light of
sunset. “Your Uncle Ned. He’s coming for you.”
Chapter 32
Cassandra
T
he sailing trip with my parents brings me close to a
mental breakdown. I move through the stages of grief
multiple times.
Denial. This can’t really be happening. I’m not gliding happily over the ocean while the love of my life faces death.
There’s just no way.
Bargaining. I’ll do anything if you let me go back. I’m sick.
You have to take me back. I’ll break a hole in the bottom of
this boat if you don’t let me go back.
Anger. So much anger. This one took up most of the day.
But as I sit curled at the stern of the ship, watching the sun sink into a shimmering ocean, the depression sets in. Hard.
My forehead drops against the cold metal of the railing.
I stare at the last wavering band of light, unable to catch
a good breath. My eyes burn from fixating on the sun. Or
maybe I’m going to cry. I’ve been holding back tears for
most of the day.
Saturday is over now, and Lawrence is probably dead. And
I did nothing, nothing, to save him.
“Cass?”
Mom kneels beside me. Her hand rests on my shoulder, and
the look in her eyes is one of overwhelming love and concern.
The tears come.
Huge, shaking sobs. The stress and fear and sorrow of the
past few days are unleashed all at once. My mom holds me
and I cry my heart out.