Now, I’m glad I learned how to do it. I put the bike in gear, rev the engine, and shoot down the winding black driveway toward the street. The only people using the back entrance are deliverymen, so there are no cameras to document me fleeing my wedding in a hacked-off gown. The wind catches my skirt and hikes it up to my hips. I don’t think about how much thigh is showing, or that my garter is still on my right leg. I need to figure out what happened last night, so I head toward the residence of my least favorite Ferro. Sean.
When I get to the penthouse of the hotel in Manhattan, the valet takes Peter’s bike and eyes me like I must have forgotten to take my meds for a few days. I don’t bother saying anything. Nothing I can say makes this seem normal, so I own it. I saunter into the front lobby and past the desk, heading directly for the elevator, but it won’t go anywhere without a room key. Damn it. I walk back to the front desk.
A man wearing a suit is standing, annoyed. He’s scolding the guy behind the counter as if he were a bad dog. “This bill is completely ridiculous, and I won’t pay it,” he says, stabbing a piece of paper with his thick index finger. He’s padded through the middle and graying at the temples.
Under any other circumstances, I would wait my turn, but time is working against me. Right now, the press doesn’t yet realize there was no wedding. I snuck out the back and, with the face screen on the helmet, no one could know for certain it was me. One guy with a camera stared at me and snapped a picture, but he did it without excitement. This is the biggest wedding of the year. It’s the wedding everyone wanted to attend, but hardly anyone was invited to—according to Constance. Even so, there were still over five hundred invites that went out to people I don’t know.
I use the only card I have to play and walk up to the front desk and put my arms up on the counter. I smile at the ranting man who stutters when he sees me. “You’re the F-F-Ferro bride, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.” I nod, smiling, then turn to the man behind the desk, “I have a secret that I have to tell you.”
The man behind the desk is near thirty, with pale skin and too many creases around his eyes for his age. He perks up and smiles at me. “Anything you need, miss.”
“I forgot Peter’s wedding gift here. Sean was supposed to bring it this morning, but he forgot. The bridal party is taking pictures nearby, and I thought I had a shot at getting it before Peter realized it was forgotten. That’d be so embarrassing.” It’s a bad lie, and I’m not a great liar, but the tremor is still lingering in my voice.
“That Peter seems like a decent guy,” the customer next to me points out, not sensing anything because he’s become completely star struck.
“He’s a great guy,” I say, glancing back toward the desk. “Sean didn’t give me the room key. This morning was so busy I haven’t had a chance to talk to him. Any chance you could help me out?” I think he’s going to call me on it. He has to know I’m not telling the truth, and I know there’s no way he’s supposed to give me that key. But if he doesn’t, I’m stuck. Sean isn’t answering his phone, and he darted from the wedding right after Peter, which is even weirder. I'm certain he was the guy I saw on the bike from the window. It had to be him.
The man behind the desk smiles at me. “Certainly, Mrs. Ferro.” He turns to a box behind him, grabs a room keycard, and puts it through the machine. A moment later, he hands it to me. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you. This is great. I’ll be right down.”
I ride the elevator up alone—thank God—and walk into Sean’s grand foyer. The place smells like Peter’s cologne.
I walk inside slowly, carefully. “Hello?” I call out, but there’s no answer.
Peter didn’t come back here and for a moment I wonder why. And if he’s not here, where did he go? I sigh and look around, running my fingertips across the smooth polished concrete in the kitchen and then I wander down the hallway and find Peter’s bedroom. It’s unmade with the sheets rumpled as if he didn’t sleep. I sit on the edge of the bed and touch the spot where he’s been sleeping with the palm of my hand. “What happened to you?”
I’m sitting lost in thought, head bowed, when a voice sends my pulse soaring. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sean snaps.
I grab my heart and jump to my feet, ready to do—I don’t know what I planned to do—but I stop before the scary man with the chiseled jaw and dripping dark hair. He’s wearing nothing but a towel. I’m about to shove a finger into his pec when I notice the beads of water on his skin. My hand freezes and lingers there for a moment.
Sean smirks. “Pointing is rude.”
I blink and manage not to sputter all over him. “Where is Peter? What happened last night?”
Sean acts as if he didn’t hear a thing I said. He strolls into Peter’s room, glances around, and then turns back to me. “How did you get in here?”
I don’t answer him. “What happened last night?”
Sean’s deep blue gaze bores into me. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do.” I get up in his face, but he’s too tall and too big. His shoulders are wider than Millie and me put together. People say Peter and Sean could pass for twins, but I don’t see it. Aside from the dark hair and trademark Ferro eyes, they’re different. “He was with you, wasn’t he? He got involved in your shit and now he’s gone.”
Sean’s smirk vanishes. “What do you mean he’s gone?”
“He found me before the ceremony—which you were supposed to be at—and said he was leaving. Don’t pretend you don’t know what happened. You set this whole mess in motion.”
Sean pads away and shakes his head. “This wasn’t my shit. It was his.” Sean glances at me sidelong, like he knows more and isn’t saying it. “What happened to your dress?” He stares at the jagged hem before his eyes flick up to mine.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It was a fifty thousand dollar gown. I’d think that part matters. According to Jon, nuns went blind making that lace, and you sliced it up.” I blanch, feeling all the blood drain from my face and look down at my dress. There’s no way he paid that much for it. Did he?
Sean snaps, “How’d you even get here?”
“Peter’s bike.”
Sean grins at me. “He’s going to be pissed you took it.”
I shrug. “Peter left me at the altar. I’m the one you should be worried about.”
Sean turns and walks over to me, and doesn’t stop. He comes nearer, making me step back. He uses his body like a mountain pushing me until my back hits the wall. He leans down, his face near mine, then hisses, “And yet, I’m not.”
Something happens, and I can’t differentiate the past from the present. Dean’s face and voice flash through my mind. I’m strapped down, and the scene is ready to replay again. I fight it. Something wild rears up inside of me, refusing to cower. I won’t be a quiet woman anymore. I won’t let anyone push me around. Anger surges through me and for once, I act without thinking. My knee juts up and nails his nuts, hard.
Sean bends over in his towel, bare muscles tensing from the impact. He growls at me, glancing up from his doubled-over position, glaring at me through dripping dark hair. “What the fuck, Sidney?”
I’m screaming, scolding him before I can think. It doesn’t concern me that his face promises pain or that he could hurt me. For years, I’ve crept around afraid. Peter gave me my life back. I no longer worry about overreacting or wonder if I should do something. Somehow, with Peter, I found myself—and I sure as hell won’t let him walk away.
I hiss at Sean, “Don’t ever do that to me again. I’m not someone you can jerk around without consequence.” I steel my voice and repeat my question. “What happened to Peter last night? What spooked him so badly that he ran? It seemed like he didn’t want me involved in it.”
He clears his throat and gives me plenty of space. “You’re already involved.”
“Where is he?”
Sean straightens, and his gaz
e narrows as he considers telling me. In that moment, I realize he knows—Sean Ferro knows everything.
CHAPTER 5
A few moments later, Sean is dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. It hugs his chest and arms showcasing his toned body. As he walks through the kitchen, pulling out the things he needs to make coffee, he runs his hand through his hair. It’s a nervous tick, something Peter does as well, and it usually accompanies something horrible.
I’m sitting on the counter, boots hanging over the edge. Sean frowns at me, the line between his temples creasing. “You’re not a child, so don’t act like one.”
I don’t move. I’m not sitting at the huge dining table alone while my soon-to-be brother-in-law makes me a cup of joe. He’ll probably put a sedative in it and ship me to Antarctica where I can become the penguin queen. The image flashes in my mind, and I smile to myself. I’d be the tallest one there. That would be an awesome change.
Sean snaps at me again, “Even Avery uses a chair. Come on, Sidney. Get down.”
I slip off the counter. Maybe he’s OCD or a germaphobe. I have no idea. Sean doesn’t talk much. He hisses, growls, and that’s about it. I fold my arms over my lacy chest and tuck my hands in the crooks of my leather-clad arms. “Sean, if you don’t tell me what happened, I’ll figure it out another way. If it’s something bad, I’ll find out.”
“What did Mother tell you?” He stops with a white cup in his large hand and raises a dark brow at me.
I should have known better than thinking I could get a straight answer out of Sean. “She told me to lure him back.”
“Right, that sounds like her. So, may I ask, why are you chasing him?” Sean turns away, lifts the pot of coffee, and begins pouring me a cup.
“He had blood on his jacket, and it looked like someone tried to shove him through a paper shredder. Peter has a past. I’m not an idiot. Does this have something to do with Gina?”
Sean tenses at my words and sets the pot down. He turns and eyes me. “Why do you know that name?”
“Peter told me everything.” My voice becomes small as I speak. I don’t mean for it to happen, it just does.
Sean stalks toward me, one step at a time, and looks down into my face with his brow wrinkled. “It’s not that simple. We’ll close ranks and take care of it. In the meantime, stay out of the way.”
My throat tightens as the words tumble from my mouth. “He’s not coming back to me after this, is he? Whatever this is, he thinks he failed me. I saw it in his eyes. Sean, tell me what’s happening, or I won’t leave it alone.”
He snorts. “You won’t drop it no matter what I tell you.”
“So stop wasting time and fill me in.”
Sean’s expression is stern, and I doubt he’ll say a word, but I stand there, hip against the counter with a cup of coffee in my hands waiting for him to speak. Minutes tick by in awkward silence. I refuse to chatter about nothing while Peter is in trouble. That’s the only thing I’ve learned so far. The certainty of it is eating a hole in the center of my chest. I’ve already been shocked beyond comprehension today. Whatever Sean has to say couldn’t make it worse.
A few more moments pass and Sean begins to act as if I weren’t here. He grabs his paper and sits at the long empty table alone, leaving me in the kitchen. Crazy is bubbling inside of me. I want to force him to tell me, but it’s clear Sean is waiting for me to leave. Maybe I should go and then follow him? Or maybe I’m badgering the wrong brother? Where the hell is Jon anyway? He was at the rehearsal dinner and then vanished. I didn’t see him this morning.
I set my cup down in the sink and decide to go after the weakest spot in Sean’s armor—Avery. I set my cup down and head toward his door. Calling over my shoulder, I ask, “Is Avery still at the same address?”
Sean is on his feet and in my face faster than I can blink. “Stay away from her.”
I glare up at him. “Then tell me what happened.”
“If you involve her in any way—”
“I’d rather not, but you’re not talking, and I know she will.”
“She doesn’t know anything.”
“But she can find out, and—”
“Stop.” That one word is spoken with such force that I freeze in place. My heart is thumping rapidly, and I’m tensed, ready to fight. But Sean inhales slowly, and the tense muscles in his shoulders and arms relax.
“Tell me.”
“It’s not a pleasant story, and, once you hear it, I can’t take it away.” Sean watches me carefully, his eyes locked on mine as if I were an adversary.
“Life is unpleasant. And nothing you can say will make me walk away from him, so start talking.”
CHAPTER 6
“There were a few men who crossed Pete’s path a long time ago. He killed one of them, and another walked away scot-free after killing the woman he loved. Pete ran into that guy last night.”
I stare blankly, not able to believe what I’m hearing. Sean is leaning against the wall of the dining room, his black shirt contrasting sharply with the pale walls. His arms are folded across his chest, and his gaze is locked on me, narrowed as if he doesn’t trust me to react properly.
Emotions collide inside my chest and everything echoes in my mind. I glance over at Sean. “How do you know?”
“I was there.”
“How? Peter avoids that guy. He told me about him, how he thought about hurting the man and decided against it. That’s one of the main principles that rule his life. There’s no way they accidentally crossed paths, so what happened?”
Chin tucked, Sean clears his throat and explains. “Uncle Luke. He started this—the man isn’t mentally inept, as he’s led everyone to believe. Mother supposedly sent him to Mississippi to stay out of trouble, but I think it was more than that—it was to keep him away from the money.”
“But, why Peter? He’s not the one inheriting.”
“Pete has a well-known weak spot. Luke saw an opportunity and took it. With Jon disowned, if something happens to Mother, then Luke will inherit everything. He won’t have to behave to get his stipend. He’ll be off his leash, doing God knows what.”
“But why Peter? He doesn’t have a say in what happens to Constance. He wanted nothing to do with that money.”
“Luke hit where it hurt and set a plan in motion. I have no doubt it will lead to the death of his sister.”
“And the blood on Peter’s jacket?” I tense, knowing before he says it. It’s the one person Peter wants to hurt, the person he said he avoids at all cost.
Sean lowers his head and avoids my eyes. “I got there too late. I wish I'd known sooner, but I didn’t realize what happened until it was too late.”
Glassy eyed, I look up at Sean. “So he’s hiding because he killed a man?”
Sean scoffs and shakes his head. “No, he didn’t kill the guy. Pete held back and let the guy walk, creating a massive clusterfuck. Letting the guy live put a mark on Pete’s head. The asswipe that killed Gina is mixed up in some nasty shit. You don’t start battles you can’t win with these people, and Pete refusing to fight to the death kind of fucked him over. He started a skirmish he can’t win.”
“So he ran?”
“Yeah, and cut you out faster than I thought possible.”
I stare at the wall feeling hollowed out. I can’t do anything about this. Peter tried so hard to get his life back together and be a good man, but this? I can’t imagine what seeing that man’s face did to him. I can’t picture Peter keeping it together and walking away. But he's done it before, so what was different this time?
“Why this time?”
“What do you mean?” Sean asks.
“Why would Peter start something with the guy this time. He’s known where this man was for years without doing anything. Why now?”
“Because of Luke. He set this in motion. Other variables will become apparent as it plays out, but my guess is the line of dominos falls in rapid succession until there’s no one left but Luke. So Peter left yo
u, and cut you out of the story.”
Ice shoots up my spine, and my throat tightens. My voice should be calm, timid, but it’s not. Something within me awakens, and I feel my old self fracture. A new Sidney emerges in a bearskin cloak, ready to do whatever is necessary to protect the man she loves. When it’s not about me, I find courage and strength I didn’t know I possessed. When someone threatens Peter, I’m not a docile, compliant waif of a woman. I won’t be.
Confidence laces through my veins and my voice is firm when I speak. “Take me to him.”
CHAPTER 7
We pull up in front of a shabby motel on the eastern end of Long Island about an hour later. Sean cuts the engine to his little black car and walks over to a once vibrant red door. It’s now sun-bleached and peeling. Once-white shaker shingles line the one-story building. There’s a sign stating they rent rooms by the hour. Inwardly, I cringe as I approach the door. I lift my hand and prepare to knock when Sean grabs my wrist.
“Don’t.” He doesn’t explain, just plucks my fist from the air and tosses it away from the door. Sean opens the palm of his hand and slaps the center of the door, once, firmly. Then we wait. Sean glances over at me, his gaze dead.
I look back at the shabby moss colored curtains obscuring the window and wonder if they’ll move—if Peter will look out. But there’s no movement. Nothing.
My throat tightens and all the hairs on the back of my neck rise in unison. “Sean—”
I lift my hand to touch Sean’s forearm as panic races up my spine. Sean places his hand in his pocket, wrapping his fingers around some sort of weapon he’s carrying. He turns, scans the parking lot, and then slaps the door with his palm once more. His chest swells as his nostrils flare. He starts to mutter about what he’ll do to them if they hurt his brother, then goes silent when there’s a sound—the scrape of metal on metal. The door unlocks, opening an inch and no more.