“And I’m glad. She’s better than that … It’s part of the reason I love her. Because, even though she won’t admit it, she’s a caring person.”
Solana rolls her eyes as she adjusts her ponytail. “You’re more whipped than I thought. No wonder you were perfectly okay taking a bullet just so I wouldn’t have to kill Lola. It’s starting to make sense now.” Despite her words, I can tell she’s actually confused by it.
I was honestly surprised when she made the deal with me. Let her shoot me close enough to death, then we would have a doctor revive me, all so I could disappear. There were so many things that could have gone wrong, like dying. Not to mention, if I held my end of the deal, I’d never see Lola again. It was worth the risk to be here now, especially since as fucked up as it is, I was never planning on committing to my end of the bargain by staying away from Lola. I can’t.
“So, how long were you tracking me in Glendale?” I ask, pretending I’m calmer than I am. I know Solana well enough to understand that, if she wants to, she’ll kill me without warning or hesitation.
“Since I was sent here to kill her about a week ago. I admit, I was a little surprised when I saw you poking around. Not a lot of people are brave enough to break bargains with me.” She gives me a sidelong glance. “I’m wondering just how long have you been breaking our bargain.”
“For a couple of weeks now,” I lie. I’ve actually been trying to track Lola since we made the bargain. “I’m sorry, but once I found her, and then found out Frankie had figured out where she was, I had to protect her. I tried to do it subtly, but they found her first.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t find her first,” she says, chewing on her bottom lip. “I promised pain when I found her and still haven’t gotten the honor of doing so.”
“Don’t hate her, Solana, just because she had a better life.” I’m crossing a line, but she’s struck a nerve with threatening Lola. “What happened to you is not her fault.”
“I know that.” She looks out the window at the trees blurring by. “But you’re forgetting that it’s in my nature to hunt and kill. And right now, I’m going against every instinct instilled in me.”
“And why are you, exactly?”
She remains silent for a while before looking at me. “Let’s just say, I’m doing you another favor.”
I’d press her for details, but I know it’ll be wasted breath.
“So, can I ask which one of the families sent you here to kill her?” I inquire. “I’m guessing the Defontelles since Frankie sent his own men.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. That’s not how I work.”
“You know you’re awfully committed to the people who hired you, which is weird since they’re the reason you’re like this in the first place.”
“Watch it, Layton. Don’t forget for a second who I am, and don’t forget what I’ve done for you.”
She’s right; Solana isn’t someone to be messed with. I should just take my gun out now and get rid of her, but I can’t bring myself to do it. She saved me from death and from a life I loathed. I owe her more than I’d probably ever be able to pay back.
“Where is this safe house?” I change the subject. “You said it was nearby, yet we’ve been driving for over fifty miles now.”
She waves for me to keep going as she rests back in the seat and crosses her arms, letting her head fall back against the headrest. “Just keep going. I promise it’s not too far.”
I sigh and keep driving.
Safe houses are always questionable. Either the people are genuinely good and have opened the house to help people like Lola and me who need to escape, or they’ve done it hoping people like Lola stumble in and they can collect the reward. And the reward on Lola is huge. Three different mafia families are after her, though I haven’t told her about the third. I’m too terrified to tell her who the third one is.
After what seems like hours, Solana finally tells me to turn off the road that dips into the forest. I drive another twenty miles out into the backwoods, the car not taking to the bumpy road very well. I worry more than a few times that we’re going to get stuck. Finally, after I’m beginning to question if Solana knows where we’re going, we pull up to a log cabin secluded in the trees.
“There it is,” she announces, sitting up. “See? Told you it was back here.”
I eye the house with skepticism. It’s late and the lights are off. As a result, it’s completely dark around us, except for the car’s headlights and the moonlight trickling through the trees.
“Are you sure this place is a safe house?”
She reaches for the door handle. “Yep. Got the information from a very reliable source.”
I turn the engine off but keep the headlights on. “And that would be …?”
“Your brother.” There’s a twinkle in her eyes. She’s fucking with my head right now and completely enjoying herself. She knows how I feel about my younger brother, Benton. I love him to death, but he’s completely irresponsible.
“Are you being serious or not?” I check to make sure I have my gun tucked into the back of my jeans and that the switchblade is in my boot.
“Of course I’m being serious. I’m always serious.” She shakes her head. “Will you relax? Like you said, Lola’s my sister. I won’t let anything happen to her, which is something I think I proved when I didn’t kill her today, like I was hired to do.” She opens the door. “Besides, I need her alive.”
“Yeah, but I don’t get why since you won’t explain it to me.”
“It’s better if you don’t know. Now let’s get her inside so you can tell her what’s going on. Hopefully, after the initial rage of wanting to kill you wears off, she’ll be smart enough to run away with you.”
“Wait a minute,” I say before she gets out of the car. “I thought she had to do this alone. That was the deal when you shot me. I had to stay dead to everyone, including Lolita.”
She pauses, contemplating. “Let’s just say I’ve had a change of heart.”
“What if we get caught?” I ask, grabbing the door handle. “It’ll fall back on you.”
“Then it falls back on me. Don’t pretend like you care, Layton. No one cares about me. That’s the whole point of being who I am. I’m dispensable; therefore, no one will miss me when I’m gone. No one will even notice.” She steps out of the car and starts to shut the door, yet pauses, lowering her head to look back at me. “Look, I’m giving you a get out of jail free card right now, which I never give. Take it or leave it. Your choice. But you need to tell Lola the truth first before you take off with her.” Then she shuts the door.
She’s never shown any signs of humanity since the day she let me off the hook for getting killed, something she proposed to me for reasons she never explained. She did seem to get some sort of weird satisfaction from shooting me to near death, though. I’m sure it has something to do with being sent to that god-awful place she went to.
I shake the thought from my mind, not wanting to think about the disgusting things I learned about my family over the last few years, and get out of the car. When I open the back door to get Lola out, I brush my fingers across her cheek, listening to the soft sound of her breathing.
That night she killed one of the Defontelles’ men, I saw a part of her die inside. Now she looks hollow, numb, broken. She doesn’t even know who she is anymore, yet she’ll never admit it. No, her father made sure of that. He told her over and over again to never show weakness. It’s one of the many things we have in common—shitty parents who have zero parenting skills.
I scoop Lola up in my arms, kick the door shut, and then hike up the shallow hill toward the cabin. I take my time, not just because I’m worried about going in, but because I know this might be the last time I’ll ever get to touch Lola, depending on how she reacts to what I have to tell her.
“Fuck, I hate my family,” I mutter under my breath as I open the cabin door.
When I step inside, my first instinct is to set Lol
a down and pull out my gun. The entire place is dark and empty. I can barely see anything. Then Solana appears in front of me with her knife drawn out.
“I checked it out. We’re safe.” She puts the knife away in the pouch attached to her belt. “There’s no one else here.”
“How long do we have to stay?” I ask as we make our way to the back of the cabin.
“Honestly, I say you two should sleep the night, get some supplies, and then hit the road. You’re not going to be able to go to an airport or bus station near here since they’ll be keeping an eye on that.” She glances over her shoulder at me then at Lola. “That is, if she’ll go with you after you tell her.”
“She will.” But I’m unsure myself. “What are you going to do? You can’t just go back empty-handed. You were hired to track her down and kill her, and he’s going to want proof.”
“That’s for me to deal with,” she says indifferently as we reach the back of the house. “Don’t worry; I have a plan. Big, huge plans.” The last part she says more to herself.
Saying nothing more, we make a turn down a hallway and then duck behind a curtain where we proceed down a set of steps toward a lit area, going farther and farther into the house. At the bottom, it opens up into a massive room that looks like a shelter, which I guess is what it is—a shelter from being hunted.
I’ve been in a couple of them over the last couple of years. This one looks similar: cots, boxes of food, jugs of water, weapons, supplies, and the light is coming from a lantern in the middle of the room, which I’m assuming Solana lit.
I set Lola on one of the cots while Solana strolls over and starts looking around at the cans of food on the shelf while slipping off her leather jacket.
“It looks like it’s been a long time since someone’s been down here,” she remarks, running her fingers along a layer of dust.
“That’s a good thing. It means more people don’t know about it.” I smooth my hand over Lola’s head, wishing things could stay exactly this way. But deep down, I know she’s going to wake up. And I’m eventually going to have to tell her the whole truth, not just about our past, but about my family’s, Frankie’s, her mother’s.
I’m worried she’s never going to talk to me again. I’m not sure I can handle her out of my life once more. It nearly killed me the first time.
Chapter 5
Lola
When I open my eyes, I have no idea where I am. In a bed, yes. Where, I have no idea. It feels warm around me, like I have a blanket over me, and the air smells like wood and damp earth.
There are people talking somewhere, so I don’t dare move. I simply lie there, stirring in my own panic. Finally, after lying there for an eternity, I open my eyes. The light stings, and I blink several times until my vision comes into focus. I’m in some kind of storage room with no windows and a lot of shelves with canned goods on them.
I make out Layton and Solana sitting in fold up chairs not too far away from me, their guns on their laps, having an intense conversation.
I discreetly reach around to get my gun out of my jeans, but it’s not there. As slowly as I can, I then move my arm down to my boot and draw out my knife, knowing it’s going to be useless against their guns. Then I take a deep breath, and before I can back out, I throw the blanket off me and spring up from the bed.
When my clunky boots hit the wooden floor, they both look over at me. Solana seems unsurprised, but Layton appears uneasy.
“Lola, just calm down and let me explain,” he says, putting his hands up, eyeing the knife in my hand.
“Five seconds,” I tell him with the knife pointed out in front of me.
“Five seconds, and then what?” Layton asks, gradually setting his gun on the floor.
“Five seconds to give me a good explanation as to why the fuck you tranquilized me and what the hell is going on. And if you can’t, I’ll slit your throats and run.” I’m being a little overdramatic. I know this, but I need answers.
Layton struggles for words. “Lola, I … We need to … You and I—”
“Oh, for the love of God.” Solana tosses her gun to the side, gets up, and crosses the room in three long strides. She grabs the knife out of my hand and chucks it to the floor. “He tranquilized you because you’re easier to save when you’re passed out. And what’s going on is that you have Frankie Catherlson, the Defontelles, and the Everetts all wanting to kill you. So, congratulations. You’re probably the most wanted woman in mafia history.”
“The Everetts?” Baffled, I glance over at Layton in shock. “Is that true? Does your family want to kill me, too?”
He reluctantly nods as he gets up from his chair and takes a few cautious steps toward me, the floorboards creaking under his weight. “I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” I say, wondering what part Solana plays in all this. Layton said she was sent to kill me, but she hasn’t. Why? Furthermore, who sent her if there’s three of them who want me dead? “I mean, I understand why the Defontelles want me dead … And Frankie, I guess. But why your family?”
“For the same reason as Frankie’s.” He spits Frankie’s name venomously.
“For revenge on my father?” I ask, and he nods. “What does your father have against mine? I thought they got along for the most part?”
“They don’t … At all. They haven’t for a long time …” He trails off, shaking his head as he closes the space between us. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is sticking up all over the place, and he looks strung out. “Lola, I lied about why Frankie’s men are after you. I was afraid to tell you the real reason since my family is a part of it, since they have a hit on you. I didn’t think you’d trust me, especially after all the lies already.”
“A part of what, exactly?” I look from Layton to Solana, who shrugs.
“Don’t look at me,” she says, backing away. “It’s his job to tell you.”
“But it’s your story,” Layton tells her. “You should be the one—”
“I don’t want to talk about what happened to me,” she cuts him off, fire momentarily flaming in her eyes, emotions so powerful I feel them in my own gut.
Anger. She’s angry.
She picks up her gun and her jacket then heads for the stairs. “I’m going to check on things. Have fun, kids.” With that, she leaves Layton and I alone as she trots up the stairs and disappears.
“Are you the one who’s going to do it?” I pick up my knife.
Layton looks appalled by my statement. “What? No. God, Lolita, I wish you’d quit saying that.” He rubs his hand down his face then releases a stressed breath. “Can I at least hold you while I tell you?”
I pull a wary face, shaking my head. “You know that’s never been my thing.”
“I know, but I need it right now.” He extends his hand toward me. “Please.”
I eye his hand for a while then finally take it. He laces our fingers together then guides me toward a chair. When he sits down, he pulls me onto his lap.
“You remember the day your … mother died?” he starts, wrapping his arms around my waist. “And how the Defontelles, the Catherlsons, and my family were all there at your house?”
I nod. “How can I forget? It was one of the worst days of my life.”
“Well, they were there for a meeting.” He brushes his fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “A potential business offer for your father, but he wouldn’t take it because of your mother.”
“What kind of a business offer?” I glance at the stairs where Solana disappeared. “I’m guessing it has to do with Solana and that school she was sent to.”
His body stiffens. “That’s not really a school, so much as a warehouse to breed … murderers, assassins—whatever you want to call them.”
My jaw drops. I’ve heard a lot of shit in my life, seen a lot of bad stuff—death, murder, dishonesty, back stabbing—but this? This is disgusting.
“Wait a minute. When
you say breed, what exactly do you mean?” I think I already know, and it makes me sick just thinking about it.
“I mean, they take young children and train them to be killers.” He pauses, and I can hear his pulse hammering. “They breed, meaning they have women there who are being kept against their will to have children with good bloodlines who are to be raised in that environment. Then, when they get old enough, they sell them off.”
My stomach churns, and I’m worried I’m going to throw up all over Layton.
The fact that my father sent someone to that place—sent Solana there, my half-sister, my flesh and blood—is sickening. The fact that he could do that makes me wish I really am an Anders and nothing more. It makes me wish I could drain the Anelli blood from my body.
“Why do they do this?” I ask then shake my head. “Never mind. I already know. For the money. It’s always about the money.”
“There’s a lot of money in it, yes.” He stares at me momentarily before shutting his eyes and leaning into me. “I want you to know that I didn’t know about this until I went to work with Frankie. It nearly killed me knowing … The things they made me do … The things I saw … It was killing me inside.”
“I know it was.” I smooth my hand over his head, remembering how I noticed how different, how burdened he looked after he started working for Frankie. “I saw that it was.” I smooth my hand over his head for what feels like hours while he breathes in and out.
Finally, he pulls away to look at me again, his eyes a little watery. “Run away with me.” There’s desperation in his eyes, a silent plea.
“What?”
He sits up and cups my face between his hands. “Run away with me. We can start over. I’ll keep you safe. Please tell me you trust me enough to run away with me, like you told me you would when we were fourteen … God, I wish I would have just done it. Things would have been so different if I’d just done it back then.”