My cheeks and chest burn, my eyes flickering unconsciously to his cock, already hard against his stomach. It jerks under my gaze. My thighs squeeze together, my breath catching. I want him. God, how I want him. But I don’t know how to do what he’s asking.
“I always let go when I’m with you,” I say, mortified by the tremor in my voice. “Don’t I?”
His gaze stays steady on mine, accepting without judgement. And he gives me the hard truth. “Our lives aren’t in danger anymore, Callisto. It’s just you and me and this space between us. I want you to find her—the woman I met in Solstice Bay, who accepted an invite for a one-night stand. Who dared me to feel how wet she was.”
I welcome the rush of heady anger that drowns out my vulnerability. “Sorry to disappoint, but that version of me is gone. She was a fucking child. She knew nothing about pain or sacrifice.”
“I disagree,” he says calmly. “We don’t shed skins, princess, we layer new ones on top of the old. And the fact you’re angry right now means I’m right.”
“You’re not right—you’re delusional.”
He grins. “How do you feel right now?”
“Like I want to slap that smug smile off your face.”
“See? There’s the spunk. You can’t hide who you are from me. I see you. I know you. Just for tonight, I want you to let go and remember who you are. And if you can’t do that, remember who you want to be.”
I’m so angry I can’t speak, so I act instead. I curl my fingers around the base of his erection and squeeze. His eyes roll back, his whole body shuddering. I stroke him firmly up and down, my anger melting into something barbed and velvety.
After my hand shuts him up, my mouth gives him back his voice. He pants and groans, whispers how good it feels when I take him as deep as my throat will allow. His body speaks even louder—jerking at the graze of my teeth, hissing when my nails scrape down his abdomen.
In time I replace my mouth with my body, using him like he invited me to. When he tries to touch me, I slap his hands away. When he laughs, I stop moving until he apologizes.
I take and take. Unrepentant and defiant. Unhinged with my need to reclaim, rebuild, redefine this broken life by any means necessary.
He lets me fuck him like he’s my revenge.
Maybe he is.
When I collapse onto him, replete and finally empty of thought, I welcome his arms around me as I drift toward sleep.
He whispers into my hair, “Sex therapy. I’m a genius, right? Just call me Dr. Finn.”
And there it is…
Light shining in the darkness.
44
“Oh my God. I did that? Let me see. Are you okay? Does it hurt? I’m so sorry.”
Callisto is horrified, her eyes comically wide as she gazes at the marks her nails left on my chest. She’s blushing from her neck to the roots of her hair.
“These are my love stripes,” I tell her, tugging a T-shirt over my head to conceal my grin. I take a few seconds longer pulling it down because her reaction makes me want to roll on the floor laughing. Which I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate.
I don’t want her to think I’m laughing at her when in reality I’m still riding an endorphin high from last night. Callisto Unleashed equaled the longest, most intense orgasm of my life. I’m wrecked and slaphappy.
“Are you sure they don’t hurt?” she asks, squinting and skeptical.
They do sting a bit, but I rather like it. I catch her fluttering hand and draw her toward me. Looking down into her gorgeous, worried face, I almost blurt the words that have been on my mind for days. Weeks. Months. Years…
I love you.
But I chicken out.
“Princess, last night was amazing.” I pause, frowning. “No, amazing isn’t big enough. Meaningful enough. Last night was more. I’ve never felt as close to another person as I did to you when you let go and trusted me. At the risk of sounding like a loser, I felt wanted. Needed.”
“I do need you, Finn. So much. I’m sorry if I haven’t told you that.” Sighing, she rubs her cheek against my chest. This time, instead of my dick perking up, my heart does. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. Thank you for being here, for shocking me back to life. I know I’ve been distant the last few days. Not myself.”
“With good reason,” I assure her. “And listen, I know healing from everything you’ve been through is going to take time. I don’t want to rush that process. But I do want you to remember that there’s life here, too. Happiness, even. And no matter what, you don’t have to hide your pain from me. I’m sorry I was an asshole, though.”
I’m lying. I love her feistiness.
She looks up with a mischievous grin. “No, you’re not.”
Feeling utterly in love and dizzy with it, I laugh. “You’re right. I like angry sex with you. A lot.”
She shoves my chest, then gasps when I wince. “Oh God, you are hurt!”
I grab her face and kiss her hard. “You can hurt me anytime you like.”
An alarm sounds on my phone, plugged in near the bed. Callisto set it on mine since both of her phones were bagged as evidence by Detective Wilson. Releasing her reluctantly, I fetch the device and turn off the alarm.
“It’s time?”
I take in her suddenly pale complexion, the way she hugs her arms protectively to her chest, and wish more than anything there was a way to talk her out of what she’s doing today. But I won’t diminish her courage by trying.
Not that she would let me convince her, anyway.
God, I fucking love her.
Because I can’t help wanting to protect her, I ask, “You still don’t want me to come with you?”
She shakes her head. So stubborn. So brave. “I won’t be gone more than a few hours, I don’t think. If it’s looking that way, I’ll borrow a phone and call you.”
I chuckle. “I can’t believe you’re comforting me right now.”
Unable to resist, I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her beautiful head. And standing there, with the world in my hands, the truth no longer seems scary. Just inevitable. Freeing.
“I’m in love with you, Callisto. I was lost until I found you.”
She sighs, but it’s a happy one. I can tell. It’s confirmed when she lifts her head and I see her smile. The glisten in her eyes.
“I love you, too. If we get lost again, let’s do it together.”
I kiss her. Then I kiss her some more, peppering her face and neck until she giggles and eventually bats me away.
“To be continued later,” she says, dancing out of reach and grabbing my car keys off the dresser. “See you soon.” Then she’s gone, and moments later the apartment door opens and closes.
To avoid making myself crazy waiting for her, I finish dressing. Have coffee. Make some breakfast. Call my mom to confirm that she and Aunt Molly made it safely to Solstice Bay. We talk about the drive, the weather. We joke that her visit to Los Angeles was a drag and agree that being duct-taped in the trunk of the car isn’t a comfortable mode of travel.
When we run out of stupid shit to talk about, instead of my usual hasty goodbye, I hesitate.
“Finn?” asks my mom, a thread of worry in her tone.
Thinking of Callisto, I push past old habits and find the person I want to be. “There’s something important I need to tell you, Mom. I wanted to tell you in person, but it can’t wait.”
“What?” she barks. “What is it? Did you finally tell Callisto you love her?”
“Yes, but that’s not—”
My mom squeals and yells, “He told her!” to someone on her end. Aunt Molly screams like a teenager. Women.
“Mom, that’s not what I wanted to tell you!”
“What? Oh. Sorry, honey.” She shushes Molly. “What is it?”
I suck in a breath, then let what I feel coat my words, “I’m sorry.” There will be more words later—many, many more—but for now, these two are all I have. And all I need.
There’s a beat of silence, then my mom, tears in her voice, whispers, “I know. I’m sorry, too. You’re coming home soon?”
I don’t bother reminding her I’ve never lived in Solstice Bay, because I understand what she’s saying. Home to her. Home to my family after years and years apart.
“Yes. I’m coming home.”
She sniffs. “Good. That’s really good.”
In the background, Molly yells, “Tell him he’s not welcome unless he brings my girl with him!”
“He heard you. And I second that.”
“McCowen women.” I sigh. “So bossy.”
“True enough,” my mom says with a chuckle. “Can’t wait to see you, Finn. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
I hang up with a strange mix of sadness and lightness. But maybe that’s what making amends feels like—regret is still there, but it’s fading as I shift the direction of my life. Now, instead of moving away from love, I’m moving toward it.
I do the dishes with a goofy smile on my face. Then I grab the spare apartment key and head to the manager’s office to break the lease on this craptastic apartment.
I’ve never been so ready to leave Los Angeles.
45
Fluorescent lights flicker along the walls of the bland hallway. Shoes squeak on faded linoleum as people pass me. All types of people, with passive faces, angry faces, withdrawn faces, brave faces… The children are the worst. After the first few, I can’t look at them anymore.
If my expression reflects what I feel, too, then I look terrified and twitchy. My heart jumps every time the distant door opens, hoping for a familiar face, but time is running out. I have to accept that she might not come.
“Miss? The inmate is ready.”
With a final glance down the hallway, I nod and follow the officer through another door. He leads me down a row of cubicles truncated by thick plexiglass. When we reach the third cubicle from the end, my knees turn to jelly. I half fall onto the chair, my hand instinctively grabbing the phone receiver on the wall.
Lizzie picks up on her end, smiling broadly.
“Oh my gosh, Calli, it’s so good to see you.”
When Wilson told me about the preliminary evaluation of Lizzie’s mental state, I didn’t want to believe her. Undiagnosed adolescent-onset conduct disorder. Antisocial personality disorder. But looking at her now, being confronted with her lack of appropriate emotion, severs the final tentacles of denial. The last time I saw her, she threatened to kill me.
My baby sister is a sociopath.
“Aww, Calli, don’t cry. I’m fine. I’ll be out of here in no time.”
I shake my head mutedly, choking on the debris of my broken heart, until someone removes the phone from my ear. Looking up, I see Ellie beside me. She came. She’s here. Thank you, I tell her with my eyes. She nods, then faces Lizzie and speaks into the phone.
“You’re not getting out.” Her voice has a veneer of calm, but her hand trembles. “You’ve killed innocent people. You slit Enzo’s throat in front of six cops. Even if you’re found guilty by reason of insanity, you’ll be imprisoned in a psychiatric hospital the rest of your life.”
Lizzie isn’t smiling anymore, her eyes hard as they shift between our faces. When she speaks, Ellie holds the receiver out so I can hear her.
“I was coerced,” she says with a shrug. “Brainwashed as a child. Killing Enzo was self-defense, anyway. He was going to shoot me. Call Hugo. He’ll figure it out.”
Ellie shakes her head. “Hugo is in jail.”
“Then hire someone else. It’s not like we’re short on money.”
“You really don’t get it, do you? Mom is going to prison for life. Franco and Enzo are dead. The police dug up Uncle Anthony’s ranch and found seventeen bodies, Lizzie! There isn’t enough money in the world to buy you out of this, and the sooner you realize that, the better.”
Lizzie dissolves into a raucous fit of laughter, the sound so out of place that she earns wary glances from the other inmates. Then she stops, so suddenly the hair on my neck stands up. Ellie shudders and grabs my hand, her fingers clammy.
Our little sister leans toward the glass, her eyes flat, and hisses into the receiver. “The only thing you two had to do was shut up, prance around in pretty clothes, marry rich dudes, and have babies. Mom was right—you’re both stupid, ungrateful brats. You have no idea how hard I’ve worked for this family, for you.” She turns her focus to me. “It’s your fault I’m in here, so get me the fuck out and I might forgive you.”
With a muffled sob, Ellie drops the phone. It thumps into the raised shelf beneath the plexiglass. “I’m sorry,” she whispers to me, then flees, disappearing through the exit.
I pick up the receiver, calmer now that I finally understand Lizzie can’t be saved, treated, or freed. She stabbed my high school boyfriend twenty times, killed God knows how many other people, and slit her own father’s throat.
There’s no rehabilitation for that.
I’ll always carry guilt—misplaced or not—for leaving her at the mercy of Vivian and Enzo, for not noticing signs of psychopathy when we were young, for not being a better big sister. What my mind can accept, my heart still regrets.
The what-ifs and maybes will haunt me forever. But I can live with them. What I can’t live with is another person dying because of her.
“Ellie has always been the weakest, hasn’t she?” asks Lizzie on a yawn.
“I think she’s the strongest of us all.”
She scoffs. “Yeah, right. Anyway, what’s the plan? I know you’ve talked to a lawyer. No plea deals—we’ll definitely want a trial. I’ll charm the socks off a jury and do a few years somewhere. Easy-peasy. Then it’s you and me running shit, Calli. Bosses. Sounds good, huh? I bet you’re glad Mom’s out of the way. I think we’ll make Dad super proud.”
She grins expectantly, eyes sparkling, and the familiar expression coupled with the insane words lift goose bumps all over me. The sister I loved all my life was just a face the monster inside her learned to wear.
My options in the moment are few, but it doesn’t take me long to decide. For her, for me, I’ll be an Avellino one final time.
So I smile and nod.
And I lie through my teeth.
“I’ll talk to Ellie and calm her down. We’ll figure this out. Just hang in there, okay?”
“Okay.” She relaxes, smile softening. “I’m not mad at you anymore, Calli. I was only mad because Mom was, anyway, and she was just peeved that you were smarter than her. They all got what was coming to them, right?”
“Right. I have to go, Lizzie, but I’ll be back soon.”
“Cool. I’ll be here.” She blows me a kiss. “Love you, big sis.”
“I love you, too.”
I hang up. Stand up. Walk away.
One foot in front of the other, I abandon my sister for the second time. Only this time, I’m not coming back.
When I walk outside, I’m surprised to find Ellie waiting for me. Dark sunglasses conceal her eyes, but there are tear tracks on her cheeks. She’s on the phone, but says goodbye and hangs up when she sees me.
“Hey, Calli.”
“Hey back. Thanks for waiting. And for, uh, coming.”
I’m nervous again, unsure of where we stand. Whether or not she hates my guts. Were our situations reversed, I’d probably hate me.
I dismembered everything that was normal in her life, and our names will be forever associated with our family’s crimes. As Vivian’s eldest daughter, Ellie is already under incredible scrutiny from the media. Depending on the reputability of the outlet, either she was stupidly ignorant, threatened to silence, or she’s some sort of criminal mastermind who orchestrated everything in order to take over the family.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I ruined your life.”
“You didn’t. That happened when I was born an Avellino.” She clears her throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls. The last week has been….” She trails o
ff, staring into space.
“It’s okay. Really.”
She laughs, brief but genuine. “What a mess. The only thing that got me out of the fetal position this morning was Xanax. Thank God for my therapist and the fact my boyfriend’s dad is a lawyer.”
I blink. “You have a boyfriend?”
For a moment, her features soften. “Yeah. We met on campus last year.”
“Then why were you upset about Finn?” Before she can answer, I understand. “You didn’t want the family to know you were seeing someone, did you?”
“Hell no. They wouldn’t have cared how smart, driven, or kind he was—all they would’ve seen is the color of his skin. And now that I know what actually happened to David, I’m extra fucking glad I never brought him around.”
“Me too.”
Her fingers find mine, link for a moment, then release. “That must have been a huge shock, finding out Lizzie killed David.” She nods toward the jail. “I’m glad she’s alive, but I hope they lock her in a padded room and throw away the key.”
Misery tightens my lungs. “I just wish…” I shake my head. Too many wishes, all of them ash. No going back.
Ellie murmurs, “You saw only the best of her. She worshipped you. Me? Hot sauce in my shampoo and dead squirrels in my bed were the very least of it.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Jesus. Where the hell was I when this was going on?”
“Oh, I don’t know, withstanding ongoing emotional abuse and alienation?” She touches my arm. “I’m sorry, Calli. For what a bitch I was to you.”
“Same.”
We share a smile—sad and small.
“What now?” I ask.
“My boyfriend’s dad says we need to make a plan for the house and businesses and whatever else.”
“I don’t care what you do,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t want anything, any money.”
“Good, because after Mom’s trial and all the lawsuits coming our way, there won’t be any left. And you know what? I’m kind of looking forward to it. No more blood money.”
The Golden Hour Page 20
