The Best Goodbye Page 18

  “Thanks. Appreciate it, but it’s all good here. Give my nephew a hug for me,” River said.

  “Sure thing,” Mase replied, and they left the room.

  I turned back to River. “Wow, OK, that was interesting.”

  He sighed. “They’re part of my past that I need to explain.”

  Captain

  Mase had started to figure things out. I could see it in his eyes as he studied me. When I’d told them Addy was from my past and I’d loved her since I was a teenager, it had only enhanced his suspicions of why I’d been so focused on Reese before they married. He knew her father had something to do with the death of her stepfather, who had molested her. DeCarlo couldn’t resist giving them a small hint.

  But that was all Mase knew. Now I was sure he had started to piece together more of the puzzle. Which meant I had to talk to Addy before things blew up in my face and she heard the truth from somewhere else. I needed to be the one to explain it to her. Not that I had an excuse worth a damn. Killing someone was hard for anyone to accept. Even the lowest scum on earth.

  Addy’s heart and soul weren’t wounded and broken the way mine had been when I thought I’d lost her. Trusting that she would forgive me and accept this was asking a lot. Losing her wasn’t possible, either. Telling her the truth was my first step. I’d deal with the next step once I knew what that had to be.

  “Do you like them?” she asked, breaking into my internal battle.

  “Yeah, I do. He’s a good man, and Reese is special. You’d love her if you got to know her. There’s just so much they don’t know about me that clouds their view of me. Things I want to explain to you. Things that scare the shit out of me to tell you, because I can’t lose you.”

  Addy sat down in the chair she’d slept in and kept her nervous gaze locked on me. “This doesn’t sound good,” she said softly.

  It wasn’t good. It was dark and twisted and so completely fucked-up. But it was who I was and why I was here today. If I’d known for a moment that she was alive, I would have spent those years tracking her down. Searching for her. Saving her . . . and myself.

  That wasn’t how it had played out, though, and the past was something I couldn’t change.

  “I ran. I couldn’t deal with the fact that you were gone. I hated everyone. Especially my dad, who never took the time to get my mom help. He left us there with her, and I thought she took your life. I was so angry and fucking empty.” That was the easy part to tell.

  Her hand came up and covered mine. That small touch helped some, but I wasn’t sure she’d still touch me like that once she knew the whole truth.

  “I lived on the streets for more than a year. I became good at it, or as good as you can be at living on your own at sixteen. One night, I decided to rip off a wealthy man. I normally spotted their wallets and got them without a hitch. I was fast. I didn’t keep credit cards. I even destroyed them so no one could use them. I had some moral compass. But I did take the cash, just to keep myself fed. Made friends in the alleys so I could keep myself clothed.” Stopping, I waited to see if she would comment. Stealing was the least of my sins. If she didn’t accept that, then what I had to tell her was going to destroy me.

  “Go on,” she urged with a soft whisper.

  “That night, I successfully took the wallet of Chicago’s biggest crime lord. And he could have killed me. He had several men surrounding him, but I never even saw them until I took off running with his wallet, which he had no idea I’d swiped. But one of his guys did, and they stopped me. He couldn’t believe I had his wallet, because he had felt nothing, but his guy pulled it from my coat pocket and tossed it to him. The man studied me for several moments. I knew by looking into his eyes that I was in trouble. There was power there that would terrify a normal person. But I had nothing to live for.”

  Her hand squeezed mine tightly, and I knew she didn’t like hearing that. I picked her hand up and brought the back of it to my lips before continuing.

  “He asked me my name and how old I was. Then he asked me how I felt about living on a boat. I didn’t know what to say, so I was just honest and said it would be better than living in a box. So he took me home that night and gave me a place to live on his boat. Over the next year, he groomed me. Trained me. By the time I was eighteen years old, I was one of his. I observed his world, knowing that I wasn’t OK with all of it. As soulless as I felt, I still had a heart. I couldn’t condone it all, but I did see that he was operating in the areas where our judicial system failed.”

  I paused and prepared myself for what I still had to say. Addy was watching me closely. I didn’t want to let her down. Telling her the truth was all I could do.

  “I had one rule. A rule I never backed down from. I would only take the jobs when the mark was a man who had abused a child. That was all. No one else. Benedetto had become like the father I never had. He had given me shelter and a home when I needed it. I owed him. I also had demons clawing into my dreams and slowly eating me alive. I knew that what he was offering would be an outlet. A place to lose myself while finding a way to live again.”

  I stopped and watched her face. There was a slight frown on her lips as she sat quietly, still holding my hand. She didn’t understand, but then, I hadn’t been very detailed, either. The idea of actually saying I killed men seemed fucking impossible.

  “What do you mean when you say a job and a mark?” she asked.

  Addy wanted the details, and I had to give them to her.

  “A job was someone Benedetto himself wanted gone or someone he’d been hired to off. A mark was the person who was to be . . . killed.” Before I could freeze up, I continued. “I killed men, Addy. Many men. Each one of them had done terrible things to a child. I researched them. If I found them guilty, I ended their lives. That’s how I know Reese. She was molested by her stepfather for years. He convinced her that she was stupid and dumb, when, in fact, she just had dyslexia and didn’t know it. Her real father was the man who saved me. He wanted revenge, and I gave it to him. But he was only one of many. He was the last man I killed. After him, I ended it. I left Benedetto and started a new life. Here.”

  Addy’s hand slipped from mine, and I let her move away. She needed space, and as much as it pained me, I had to respect that. I was prepared for this.

  “You . . . killed people with a gun?” she asked in disbelief.

  I nodded. “I killed monsters who repeatedly abused children.”

  She held her hands together in front of her and stared down at the ground. “How many?” she asked quietly.

  I wanted to tell her I didn’t know or that it wasn’t a lot. But the fact was, I knew every face. I remembered every moment of the ends of their lives. “Twenty-six,” I replied.

  “Twenty-six,” she repeated, as if she was trying to let it sink in. “If you stopped, why did you get shot?”

  “Members of a gang that one of my marks was in wanted revenge and tracked me down. Those who still work for Benedetto were trailing them here. That’s why Alexa is here, and that’s how I know her. Cope, too. When they had them in sight, it was my job to go end it. Either I killed them, or they killed me. I killed two of them, and Cope killed one. The last one went down with his finger on the trigger, and the bullet went through my leg.”

  She took several steps back until she was leaning against the wall, staring at me.

  I wanted to know what she was thinking. The look of revulsion I had feared wasn’t on her face, but she wasn’t OK with this. I could tell that much. But then, I hadn’t expected her to be.

  “Will others track you down?”

  I shook my head no. “That was an unusual situation. Most don’t know who did the job. The gang knew because of their dealings with Benedetto in the past.”

  She ran a hand through her hair nervously. “You could have died.”

  “No, I couldn’t have. I went in with backup, and I had a gun. I’m a professional. I was safe.”

  “A professional killer?”

&
nbsp; That was what I didn’t want her to think. “That’s not what I meant. I knew what I was doing. I was safe.”

  “What if more come? What if they hurt Franny?” She covered her mouth and shook her head, as if the idea had just hit her.

  I sat up, wincing at the pain in my leg, wishing like hell I could pull her into my arms to reassure her. “No one will ever touch Franny or you. I’d never let it happen. You’re my life, Addy. The two of you are my life.”

  Addy backed away, moving to the door. “I can’t,” she said, shaking her head no. “I just can’t.” Then she spun around and ran out the door.

  I couldn’t move. She’d left me, and I couldn’t fucking move to go after her.

  Addy

  He killed people.

  I stood in the kitchen, staring outside, with a cup of coffee in my hand, that simple fact running through my head. Franny was safely at school, and I needed sleep, but I wasn’t sure that would ever come again.

  I loved him.

  That was the other thing I couldn’t get out of my head. I loved him, even still. Maybe more. How screwed-up did that make me? How could I love him more for killing people? Because they were scum who abused kids? Did that make it OK? In my heart, it did. I wanted perverts who ruined kids’ lives to die. Just thinking of someone hurting Franny that way made me furious. If someone were to abuse her, I’d kill him myself.

  So did that make me any different?

  He told me the truth when he didn’t have to. That was something he never had to tell me. He could have lied to me. He could have made up a story that made sense. Telling me the truth had been big. Huge, even. Which made me love him even more.

  I was still sorting it all out. I’d run away from the hospital shortly after River had finished his story. All I’d been able to see was Franny’s face in the moment. The fear that his life choices could hurt her had been too much. She wanted him in our life as much as I did, but at what cost could I let that happen?

  Was he right that this was it? No more backlash from his past could threaten him and potentially threaten our daughter? I wanted to believe that and move on, but she was my first priority. She needed me to protect her. Being selfish because I loved River so much I couldn’t breathe wasn’t acceptable. I had to do what was best for her.

  But being near her father felt right. I wanted it to be right. To be safe. And I wanted to trust him to keep her safe.

  I wanted her to have everything. Stability. A father.

  I had wanted River most of my life. He had gotten lost and found a way to survive, and as much as I didn’t support what he had done, it didn’t change the fact that I loved him. I would always love him.

  I set my coffee cup down on the counter. I knew what I was going to do. I either had to own this or run from it. I’d never run from anything before. Except when I was trying to save River’s life.

  This time, I wanted to give all three of us the life that had been stolen from us. I had that in my power now. I wasn’t a scared teenage girl with no one to turn to. I was tough. I’d learned to survive on my own, and I had made it.

  It was time I stopped being scared.

  • • •

  Two hours later, I had Franny with me, and we walked to River’s hospital room. I’d explained to her that he had been shot in the leg by accident, and he was going to be fine. She’d panicked, of course, but I’d calmed her down. Then she’d made me go to the store and get him a bag of chocolate kisses, a box of doughnuts, a bag of chips, and two Get Well balloons. This was apparently what she felt everyone needed to feel better.

  “Do you think he’ll be awake?” she asked, as we made our way down the hall toward his room.

  “I don’t know, but we will wait for him quietly if he’s sleeping,” I assured her, because I knew that once we got in, she wasn’t going to want to leave.

  When we got close to the door, I heard a woman’s voice, and she sounded upset. I paused, not sure I wanted to take Franny in just yet.

  “Someone is in there, Mommy,” Franny said, looking up at me, concerned.

  “I bet it’s his sister, Blaire. Maybe we should wait—”

  “You can’t leave,” I heard. “Stop being so stubborn! I’ll call her. I’ll get her up here. You can’t even walk, Captain.” Blaire’s voice had risen so that her words were crystal-clear. Unmistakable.

  He was trying to leave because of me. I reached for Franny’s hand and hurried her toward the room with me. He didn’t need to move. I just hoped he hadn’t tried yet. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if he made his injury worse.

  “I’m leaving this fucking hospital and—” His words stopped when he saw Franny and me. He took us both in, along with the items we held in our arms.

  “Hey,” Franny said, sounding nervous. “I don’t think you need to get up. You’ll hurt your leg worse. Tell him, Mommy. He can’t get up.”

  She’d heard enough of the distress in Blaire’s voice to know he was about to do something stupid. Beautifully perfect but stupid.

  “Lie back down, River. Please,” I said, walking over to set the items I was holding down on the table before going to him. “We’re back. We aren’t leaving.”

  He looked hopeful as he watched me.

  “Thank God,” Blaire said, sounding relieved. “As much as I want to meet Franny and have some family bonding time, I think this family needs some time alone.”

  “Yeah,” River agreed, not looking back at his sister.

  “Thanks, Blaire, and I’m sorry about that,” I told her, knowing she’d understand what I meant. I didn’t want to say too much in front of Franny.

  “I got you balloons. Well, Mommy got them, too. And we got you good stuff to eat ’cause hospital food is gross. Why were you leaving? Was it because the food was gross?”

  Her questions brought a smile to the corners of River’s mouth. “The food is bad, but if you’ve brought me the good stuff, then I reckon I can relax and stay here a while longer.”

  Franny beamed at him and started pulling out the doughnuts to put in front of him. “We didn’t bring milk, because Mommy said they’d have that here. You need milk with doughnuts.”

  “I agree completely. We need to get us each a glass of milk and open this box up.”

  I wasn’t sure he could eat anything like doughnuts yet, but I’d deal with that when the nurses came. He was going to tell Franny anything she wanted to hear at this point, and I loved him even more for that. She was doing a good job of not showing how upset she was over seeing him in that bed, with his leg all bandaged up and hanging there.

  He turned to look at me, so softly that I felt I might melt. “You came back.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I left something here that I love.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners as his smile grew. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “Then you think you can love it with the past that comes with it?”

  I shrugged and stepped closer to him. “I’ve loved it for most of my life. Can’t stop now.”

  River held out a hand to me, and I slipped mine into his. He pulled me closer, and I went willingly.

  “Wait . . . do you love Mommy?” Franny’s tone was a mix of awe and excitement.

  “Loved her since she was twelve years old. Never stopped,” he replied.

  The warmth of his words spread through me, and I leaned into him.

  “Does this mean you’re gonna marry her?” Franny asked, clasping her hands together, with wide eyes as she looked at us.

  “That’s not—” I started to say, but was cut off when River pulled me down for a quick, chaste kiss.

  “Yeah, if she’ll have me. It’d make me the luckiest man on the planet to have both of you in my life, together.”

  Smiling against his lips, I turned my head to see Franny watching us with a hopeful expression. “I think it’s safe to say we both love you and want to keep you.”

  She nodded her head enthusiastically. “Yes, we will marry y
ou!” she exclaimed.

  Captain chuckled and held out his other hand toward her.

  She ran over to him and was careful not to hurt him as she let him pull her to his side.

  “Got my girls,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Makes all the paths I took to get me here worth every last mile.”

  Franny didn’t understand the depth of that, but I did. One day, she would, too.

  Acknowledgments

  Writing a book is challenging. Writing a book without support is impossible. There are so many who deserve my gratitude.

  I need to begin with my children: Austin, Annabelle, and Ava. They are the ones closest to me. The ones who deal with Mom being locked away in her office. They give a lot toward every book I write.

  My editor, Jhanteigh Kupihea, for putting up with my missed deadlines and forgetfulness. She helps make my books the best they can be. I’d be lost without her.

  Ariele Fredman, Judith Curr, and the rest of the team at Atria for being the support I need to put my books out there.

  Jane Dystel, my amazing badass agent, who I love. Choosing her is one of the best decisions I’ve made in my journey. Lauren Abramo, for handling all my foreign sales.

  Monica Tucker. If she didn’t keep up with me, I’d be in a mess! She keeps my bills paid, food in my pantry, emails answered, and a multitude of other things.

  Abbi’s Army, a group of readers who support me, promote me, and make me feel loved, even on my worst days. I love y’all!!

  Every person who has ever bought one of my books. Thank you. I get to do what I love most in the world because of you.

  Don't miss a single book in the Rosemary Beach series by Abbi Glines.

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