“Are you being serious or not?” I check to make sure I have my gun tucked in the back of my jeans and then that the switchblade is in my boot.
“Of course I’m being serious—I’m always serious Layton.” She shakes her head and then rolls her eyes again. “Would you relax? Like you said, Lola’s my sister. I won’t let anything happen to her, something I think I proved when I didn’t kill her today like I was hired to do.” She opens the door. “Beside, 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,” she says. “Now lets get her inside and you can tell her what’s going on and 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. That I had to stay dead to everyone, including Lolita.”
She pauses, contemplating something. “Lets just say I’ve had a change of heart.”
“But what if I 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 what I am. I’m dispensable so no one will miss me when I’m gone—No one will notice.” She steps out of the car and starts to shut the door, but pauses, lowering her head and looking 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 showed any signs of humanity since the day she let me off the hook for getting killed, something she proposed to me for reasons she’s never explained to me. She did seem to get some sort of weird satisfaction off 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… the one that my fucking family helps run.
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. I open the back door to get Lola out, brush my fingers across her cheek, listen to the soft sound of her breathing. That night she killed one of the Dellefontes men, I saw a part of her die inside. And now… well, she looked so hollow, so numb, so broken when I first saw her. She doesn’t even know who she is anymore. But she’ll never admit it. No, her father made sure of that, telling 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, 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 that 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 Lola down and pull out my gun. The entire place is dark and empty. I can barely see anything, but then Solana appears in front of me with her knife drawn out.
“I checked it out and we’re safe,” she says, putting the knife away in the pouch attached to her belt. “There’s no one else here.”
“How long do we have to stay here?” 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 from here and then hit the road. You’re not going to be able to go to an airport or bus station near here—they’ll be keeping an eye on that,” she says, glancing 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. “But what are you going to do? You can’t just go back empty handed. You were hired you 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 lighted area, going further and further 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—shelter from being hunted. I’ve been in a couple of them already, over the last couple of year while I was pretending to be dead. 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 in 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 the layer of dust covering everything.
“That’s a good thing… it means more people no about it.” I smooth my hand over Lola’s head, wishing things could stay exactly this way, but deep down know that she’s going to wake up and eventually I’m going to have to tell her the whole truth, not just about our pasts, but about my family’s, Frankie’s, her mother’s. And I’m worried that she’s never going to talk to me again. And I’m not sure if I can handle her out of my life again. It nearly killed me the first time.
Chapter 12
Lola
When I open my eyes, I have no idea where I am. In a bed, yes, but where I have no idea. There are people talking someone so I don’t dare move, lying there stirring in my own panic. It feels warm around me, like I have a blanket over me and the air smells like wood and damp earth.
Finally, after lying there for an eternity, I open my eyes. The light stings my eyes 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 can goods on then. 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 with each other.
I discretely reach around to get my gun out of my jeans but it’s not there. As slowly as I can, I move my arm downward 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 seeming unsurprised and Layton appearing 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 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 over dramatic, I know it, but I need to get some 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 on the floor as well. “He tranquilized you because you’re easier to save when you’re passed out, since you’re pathetic when it comes to protecting yourself. And what’s going on is that you have Frankie Catherlson, the Dellefontes, and the Everett’s all wanting to kill you. So congratulations. You’re probably the most wanted women in mafia history at the moment.”
“The Everett’s.” Baffled, I glance over to Layton in shock. “Is that true? Does your family want to kill me too?”
He reluctantly nods then 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 says she was sent to kill me, but she hasn’t, so why. And who sent her if there’s three of them who want me dead? “I mean, I understand why the Dellefontes want me dead... And Frankie I guess. But why you’re family?”
“For the same reason as Frankie does.” He spats Frankie’s name venomously.
“For revenge on my father,” I say but he nods. “But what does your father have against my father? I thought they got along for the most part?”
“They don’t, at all… 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 too. 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 from me. “It’s his job to tell you.”
“But it’s your story,” Layton tell her. “You should be the one—”
“I don’t want to talk about what happened to me.” She cuts him off and for a moment a fire flames in her eyes, emotions so powerful I feel it in my own gut. Anger. She’s angry over something.
She picks up her gun and her jacket then heads for the stairway. “I’m going to go check on things. Have fun kids.” And with that, she leaves Layton and I alone as she trots up the stairs and disappears.
“So are you the one who’s going to do it?” I pick up my knife from the floor and wipe some dust off the blade. I wonder how many times I’ll have to question everything, question my life, question the truth. As long as I’m connected to the mafia world, I’m sure questioning will always be a necessity. I wish I could just disconnect myself.
Layton’s appalled by my statement. “What? No. God, Lolita, I wish you’d quit saying that.” He rubs his hand down his face and 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. Our fingers lace together, the contact of him surging to my body as he guides me to one of the chairs. When he sits down, he pulls me down on his lap without asking first. “You remember they day your… mother died?” he starts, his arms wrapping around my waist. “And how the Dellefontes, the Catherlson’s, and my family was all there at your house?”
I nod, remembering how they all just looked at my father holding my dead mother in his arms. Instead of helping him, they simply left. “How could I forget? It was one of the worst day’s of my life.”
“Well, they were there for a meeting.” He brushes his fingers through a strand of my hair and tucks 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 stairway 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… murdered, 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. Dishonestly. Back stabbing. But this. This is disgusting. “Wait a minute, when you say breed, what exactly do you mean?” I think I already know though 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. “And they also breed. They have women there who are being kept there against their will to have children with good bloodlines who are to be raised in that environment. Then when they get old enough, the sell them off.”
My stomach rolls and I’m worried I’m going to throw up all over Layton. The idea in itself is repulsive but then there’s the fact that my father sent someone to this place—sent Solana there, my half-sister, my flesh and blood. The fact that he could do that makes me wish I was really an Anders and nothing more, 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 says with a nod. He stares at me momentarily then shuts his eyes and leans in to me, pulling me closer. “Lola, 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 smoothe my hand over his head, remembering how I’d noticed how different, how much more burden he looked after he started working for Frankie. “I saw that it was.” I sit there smoothing my hand his head for what feels like hours, while he breaths in and out, in and out.
Finally he pulls away and looks at me again. His eyes are a little watery, like he’s been crying. “Run away with me.” There’s desperation in his eyes, a silent plea.
I bite down on my lip. “What?”
He sits up and traps my face between his hands. “Run away with me, Lolita. We can start over and I’ll keep you safe. Please tell me you trust me enough to run away with me, like you said to me when we were fourteen. God I wish I would have just done it… Things would have been so different if I just done it back then.” He pulls me against him again, embracing me tightly.
I remember the day my mom died, right before I found her in my dad’s arms in the driveway, I’d suggested to Layton that we run away. I’d never liked the world I grew up in and leaving seemed like such a great idea—still does. I just wish I could permanently leave it all behind.
“Where would we go?” I ask with my face tucked against his chest where I can hear his heart thudding almost violently. I think about Dannie and Mary Lou and how I’m just going to disappear, leaving them to wonder what happened to me.. Then there’s Nyjah. I don’t know whether he was with Reagan on blackmailing me or not, but I still wish I could say good-bye. I feel guilty about it, but know in my heart that I can’t go back to Glensdale. Maybe one day, if this all ever settles down. One day. I hope. I hope. I hope.
Layton swiftly slants back, looking flabbergasted. “You’re seriously considering it? After everything?”
“You know I’m crazy enough.” I try to make a joke but miss the mark badly—it’s been a long time. Not knowing what else to say, I shrug. “I have to run anyway. Might as well be with someone.” I give him the best smile I can summon, but there’s too much darkness in me at the moment to be happy.
He smiles back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know, but I want to make sure.”
I think I’m sure. The last thing I want to do is leave Layton when I just got him back. “Layton, can I ask you a question?”
He nods, this time with confidence. “You can ask me anything.”
I suck in a breath. “Do you know who killed my mother?” Usually when I say something like this, he would always say that my mother died from natural causes, so I don’t expect much from him.
“I honestly don’t know.” He touches my face, a soft brush of his hand, then moves his fingers to my lips and traces them. “I know that it was someone there that day… I heard my dad saying something about it once. But he never said the specifics.”
“So it could be any of them?” I ask, rage flaring in my chest. I’d always had my suspicions about her death and know I find out I’m right. It makes me angry. Makes me want to go back to Boston and find out who it is. “One of the Dellefontes, or the Catherlson’s. Or your father or mine. One of them did something to her.” The last two hurt.
He
nods, appearing in agony too. “I don’t know what you know about your mother… but I heard a lot of stuff about her… about messing around with the wrong people.”
“Sadly, it doesn’t surprise me. Not after everything… God, I can’t believe she let her own daughter go to that kind of place.” I’d thought my life had been bad but Solana’s was so much worse. To be raised to be a killer… the things she must have went through and knowing that one of her parent’s sent her there.
“I think I should talk to her,” I tell Layton, climbing off his lap.
“I think you should too.” He stands up with me and picks up his gun. “But it’s going to have to be quick. If we’re going to go we’ve got to go soon… Solana… well she’s been hired to kill you and she can’t stall for much longer.”