He started running drugs and sometimes numbers. His responsibilities increased until the day his mother injected more than her fragile body could handle. Out of the blue, his grandparents reemerged, vowing that now that she was gone, they’d get him out.
Moving him to Indiana, they paid for his college where he studied data analytics. Neal took what he’d learned running numbers and counting cash and turned it into a valuable education.
There was a kid a few years younger than Neal, who he’d helped through the years. Though they weren’t blood relatives, they called themselves brothers. Joey’s mom had the same profession as Neal’s mother. Her fight with drugs ended earlier.
Neal did all he could to help Joey while they were young, working to keep him in the lighter side of their dark world. Neal hadn’t told me the particulars, but according to my husband, running drugs, selling to kids, or helping with the backroom gambling was the better option. Others were much worse. The problem was that as Joey grew older, he did more than work the gambling. He lived it, losing money as soon as he earned it, and finally, skimming.
When Neal and I met at Purdue University, I had no idea of his past. We married our senior year. It was upon graduation that he learned the hard truth. He could move beyond doing grunt work for Allister Sparrow, but leaving the outfit was impossible.
Neal’s affiliation preceded him, making employment away from Chicago impossible. The only way to be hired in or around Chicago was to go through Sparrow. The way Sparrow saw it was that Neal had gotten his start in the Sparrow outfit. Neal was given the choice of jobs as long as they benefited Sparrow Enterprises.
My husband’s dream had been aerospace not real estate.
When we returned to Chicago after college and marriage, Sparrow had Neal working both sides of the legal fence. The job Allister offered Neal at Sparrow Enterprises was simply a legal hook to keep him in the illegal Sparrow outfit forever.
“I don’t know if there’s a catch,” Neal said. “Mr. Sparrow means business with this. The baby is due soon. We have to become new people, even physically. He has some people who can do some of that stuff. I don’t know what it includes, nose jobs and cheek bones...
I scrunched my lips. “Surgery? Why?”
“He wants us hiding in plain sight.”
“We could move away from Chicago.”
“Becks, he has this all worked out to the second.”
The teakettle on the stove began to whistle, like the shrill alarm of Allister Sparrow’s timer. Our time was up, and we needed to make a decision.
Standing again, I removed the kettle from the burner, turned off the flame, and opened the flimsy cupboard above, removing two mugs. My steps stalled as the window above the sink caught my attention. Beyond the dingy glass panes was the world in which we lived, roof tops with chimneys and brick walls. The sky was gray, filled with early March snow-laced clouds. I reached for the counter as the dishes in the sink rattled, and the 6:15 train sped by on the nearby tracks.
“What if we say no?”
“I can’t be sure. Look what happened to Joey.”
The year after we graduated college, Joey’s body—or what was left of it—was found floating in a fifty-five-gallon drum of acid behind an abandoned warehouse in South Chicago. Since that time, Neal’s been held responsible for the money Joey skimmed. With the accumulating interest—points—it’s been a debt that he could never repay.
“If we say yes?” I asked.
“I call him tonight. They’ll come and get us.” He gestured around the room. “We leave this all behind. Mr. Sparrow said that we could be having surgery tonight or tomorrow. Next will be our identities: new names, a house, a job—a life out of this dreary apartment.” He turned me by my shoulders toward him. “The life you deserve.”
“What about my job now and yours? What about friends and my family?” It wasn’t like we had much. Neal had no family and all I had was a sister who lived in Evansville, Indiana, with her husband and two kids.
“We have to disappear—vanish into thin air. Just imagine a baby girl in your arms. We will be a family.”
I took a deep breath. “If we say no, what happens to her—the baby?”
Neal shrugged. “I can’t say. Honestly, I don’t know.”
My mind filled with the horrors of the Sparrows. What would that man do to a baby? I couldn’t even think about it. I turned to Neal. “Then yes.”
“I love you, Rebecca Curry. I’m saying that now because all I know is that tomorrow your name will have changed.”
It was too much to process. “Do you know what my name will be?”
“I’m not supposed to, but I saw it on his desk. You will be Josey Marsh.”
“You?”
“Byron Marsh.”
Araneae
Though my head was still pounding midafternoon when Patrick and I arrived back at the apartment, my demeanor changed the moment I heard activity in the kitchen. It was a little after three and for once I’d made it home before Lorna finished cooking.
With her earbuds securely in place, she didn’t hear us come into the kitchen as she spread ingredients over the counter. Placing my satchel on the floor, I moved closer.
“Oh! Araneae, you scared me to death. What are you doing home?” She looked up as Patrick came in behind me. “And I see you brought Patrick.”
“Technically, he brought me because as you know, I can’t make the damn elevator work.” I looked up at Patrick. “Or drive...or... I’m certain if I keep going, there’s a number of other things I’m no longer allowed to do.”
Patrick grinned. “Money’s on you, but don’t forget, I’ll deny it.”
“Thanks.”
“You’ve had a long day. Are you all right? Do you need anything before I go downstairs?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Not from you. I think I do from Lorna.”
Her big green eyes peered my way. “From me? What?”
“Let me give you the night off from cooking. I’d like to do it.”
“Are you sure? Patrick just said your day was long. You could go upstairs and take a bath or something.”
“Have you ever had a day where you’re tired of thinking about it?” I asked. “A day when you want something else on your mind?”
“Oh, girl, have I.”
I motioned toward all the items on the counter. “I think you have the perfect solution.”
“I can help you,” she offered.
I kicked off my heels and walked in my stockings across the marble floor. “Nope. Thank you, though. I have no idea what I’ll make, but I want to make it.” I laid my hand on Lorna’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go soak in a nice tub? I have bath salts upstairs you’re welcome to use.”
She giggled. “Who do you think does the shopping? I have a generous supply downstairs.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
Lorna looked from the counter to me. “Are you sure?”
I waved my hand toward the direction of the private elevator. “Positive.”
She reached out and covered my hand with hers. “You seem...surer about being here.”
My cheeks rose. “Remember when you told me that love wasn’t something that can be controlled?”
“Yes...”
“I know I haven’t been here or even with Sterling for that long. Yet it seems like we’ve always been together. It’s hard to explain.”
“And...”
I snickered, enjoying how easy it was to talk to Lorna. I’d told Louisa and Winnie that I loved Sterling. It seemed that if Lorna was my new friend, I shouldn’t leave her out. “And I’m falling in love with him.”
“Falling...?”
“Hell no. I’ve fallen, head over heels. He can be absolutely exasperating.” It felt cathartic to be talking to someone who knew him. “He’s overprotective and overbearing.” Smiling, I remembered the addition of will to his request for me to go home. “And he’s trying to do better. I think my biggest barrie
r is trust.”
Lorna nodded. “Do you trust him?”
I did, but I wanted her answer. “You’ve known him longer. Is he trustworthy?”
Her lower lip disappeared behind her front teeth. “You said the other morning that all three men share a brain.” She scoffed again. “They share more than that. To one another they’re harshly honest. I’m not sure there’s anything they won’t tell one another.” Pink filled her cheeks. “Okay, I thought of one thing. Those men all respect women too much to share our intimate secrets. When it comes to anything else, their honesty knows no bounds.”
“Why do I feel there’s a but coming?”
“It’s more of a clarification. I believe everything Reid tells me—and everything Patrick and Sparrow tell me too. I also know that there are things they do, see, or know that they don’t tell me. I believe it will be the same with you.” She shrugged. “Some could see it as lying by omission. I hope you don’t. I hope you choose to see it as I do—protection.”
I exhaled. “I’ve heard that word a lot since this all started.”
“Araneae, they believe it to their core.”
I recalled what Sterling had said about telling him the truth. “Wouldn’t omission be considered a half-truth?”
“Sparrow has told you where the three of them became friends, right?”
“Basic training and then they were stationed together with someone named Mason.”
Lorna sucked in a breath. “He told you about Mason?”
“Not a lot, why?”
She shook her head. “Not my story to tell.”
That was the same thing Sterling had said about Jana. “I feel like there’s more.”
“Honey, if he has told you that much this fast, he trusts you. That should mean something.”
I nodded. It did mean something.
“So,” Lorna said, “back to the army. He told you that they did two tours together.”
She hadn’t really asked a question, but I nodded.
“Is it a half-truth if he hasn’t shared what they did, what they saw, what they experienced? Do you need all of that for it to be the truth?”
I thought about it. “No, I don’t. If he ever needs to share, I would listen, but it would be so outside of my realm of knowledge.”
“Exactly. Back to your question, do I think he’s trustworthy? I think that I can believe one hundred percent of what Sparrow, Patrick, or Reid says. I also know in my heart that I’m only told maybe sixty percent of what they know.”
“And you’re all right with that?” I asked.
“I am. Life is too short to spend time worried about things I don’t want to know. If it’s important to me, Reid will tell me. Otherwise, I’d rather spend my time with my man doing other things.”
That made me grin.
She lightly slapped my arm. “I was talking chess. Where did your mind go?”
“Definitely chess.” I shrugged. “Maybe checkers?”
Lorna and I both laughed.
“Last chance for help with dinner,” she said.
“Nope, I’ve got this.” I looked toward the pantry. “Any chance that there’s a box of macaroni and cheese in there?”
Her eyes widened. “Tell me you’re joking or I’m not leaving.”
“I’m joking.”
“Have fun. By the way,” she said. “I dust in Sparrow’s office. I’ve noticed his chessboard and none of the pieces have moved.”
My cheeks warmed as I felt the sparkle in my eyes. “Hmm.”
With salads in the refrigerator, homemade vegetable lasagna in the oven, and a fresh loaf of French bread ready to bake, I slipped upstairs to finally change out of my work clothes. I couldn’t believe I’d just chopped and mixed and created a meal dressed in the same expensive dress I’d worn to the office.
My mind had been too consumed with the meal to think about my clothes.
As I contemplated something comfortable, my gaze went to the part of the closet with dresses too fancy for work, more for dinner parties or celebrations. Running the luxurious materials through my fingers, I momentarily thought of Sinful Threads and Winnie. Shaking my head, I refused to dwell.
I’d called Louisa and told her that Winnie was on her way home, she’d worked out well, and we could discuss the arrangement further after the baby was born. And then I’d sent Winnie a text asking if her trip back to Boulder was set. She replied saying it was.
I knew I could call Patrick and learn the particulars, yet right now, I was exhausted with dealing with other people. I was ready for an evening that included only one other person.
After a quick shower, I redid my makeup, and instead of styling my hair up, I brushed it out. From being up in a twist all day, the long tresses flowed down my back in blonde waves.
With fresh thigh-high stockings as my only undergarment, I shimmied into the red dress I’d first seen on Sterling’s airplane—yes, it had been dry cleaned. After a quick jaunt to the jewelry drawer in the closet, I added the diamond earrings and long platinum necklace. The only other accessory from that first night was the pair of Saint Laurent red patent-leather sandals.
With the bread and oil/seasoning mixture on the table instead of the breakfast bar, our two place settings ready, including wine glasses, and the lasagna cooling on the stove, I waited for the sound of footsteps.
It was nearly seven when rather than footsteps, the distinctive sound of the elevator’s pocket door alerted me to Sterling’s arrival. Lighting the candles on the table in the dimmed kitchen, I waited as the sun settled lower over the skyline, filling the sky with hues of red and purple.
Sterling
With my mind vying between the meeting with the contractors and my follow-up call with Judge Landers, the last thing I expected was the elevator to stop on two. When it did, I let out a long breath and made my way to the sensor that would open to our command center.
“Should I even ask?” I said as I was met by Patrick. “Where’s Reid?”
“This won’t take long. I just saw it.”
“What?”
He tilted his head toward the computer screen. “Reid has certain traffic cams set for surveillance.”
I looked up. “That’s Judge Lander’s house.”
“Yeah, and Rubio McFadden is in there with her.”
I shook my head. “Fuck, I wanted to believe her.” I’d filled in both Reid and Patrick on my morning conversations.
“I’m not certain that you can’t.”
“Is there any way to listen in?” I asked.
“No, she’s excessively careful.”
“Excessively?”
Patrick laughed. “Yeah, it’s as if she’s lived in this fucking world her whole life and knows that most common technology is vulnerable.”
“Any ideas what’s happening in there?”
“From the look on his face, he’s not there for a booty call.”
“Send Sparrows over there. Tell them to stay in the shadows.” I ran my hand through my hair. “This is fucking ridiculous, but if she’s going to end up meaning something to Araneae, McFadden’s not going to do anything to her on my watch. I’m sure he heard from Pauline about the meeting at Sinful Threads. If he knows Annabelle came to Sparrow Enterprises, he may be unhappy.” There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t put past that asshole.
“Will do,” Patrick said. “What’s the line?”
I took a deep breath. “You’ll know it when he crosses it.”
Patrick nodded. “Go upstairs.”
My lips curled upward. “That’s where I was headed.”
“By the way, Winnie has boarded her flight. It’s taking off in twenty minutes.”
I exhaled. “I-I don’t know how I feel about her. If she weren’t so closely connected to Araneae, she’d be eliminated.”
Patrick stood taller.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t fucking know,” he said. “In my observation, she’s as bullheaded as Lorna and
Araneae. I think Hunter played her. He capitalized on us.”
“On us?”
“He saw a weakness, the fact that Araneae—sorry, Kennedy—hadn’t been communicating. He used it. I can’t blame Winnie for that. It’s the same damn thing you did to Araneae, capitalizing on her friends. From what I’ve seen, Winnie lives and breathes her job at Sinful Threads. She’s close to Louisa and Kennedy. I have to think that she didn’t set out to hurt Kennedy. She thought she was helping.”
“You believe that?” I asked.
“Boss, I try to think about how others see the world. If I don’t, I can’t fathom their decisions. You, me, and Reid, we see everyone as a potential threat. Even Lorna is weary with good cause. People like Winnie and Araneae see the world differently.” A smile came to his face. “Today Araneae told me she was glad I was scary.” He scoffed. “I asked her if she thought I was and she said not to her. It’s a trust in others that you and I can’t even imagine.”
I shook my head. I did have that kind of trust, in two people. I wanted it in three, but could I? Had she proven it today with how she reacted to that agent?
“Keep an eye on Winifred,” I said. “Maybe you and Araneae are right and she was simply trying to help. I’m not convinced.”
He nodded. “That’s why Sparrows stay on top. We require proof.”
“If she has any more contact with Hunter, I want to know about it.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
As the elevator doors closed, I did a mental rundown of the day.
A fucking FBI agent had offered Araneae the chance to be an informant. Though she’d been honest and told me about it—as well as refused him—I couldn’t help but worry about her thoughts. She’d even said he insinuated I’d use Sinful Threads to further illegal activities. I wouldn’t. If it mattered to her, it mattered to me.
What did something like that do to her—mentally?
Did it plant doubt in her mind about me?
Did she wonder if he was right?
I wanted to believe she didn’t, that she meant what she said about the way she felt.
Promises Page 6
