It's Not Over

by Grahame Claire

  “Just get here.”

  I jabbed the screen to end the call and instructed the driver to a new destination. I made a fist and had a feeling tonight I was going to want to plant it in Vinny’s face. The only reason I had anything to do with the motherfucker was out of obligation to his brother. Somebody had to be the one to keep him on a chain. He was a liability. Had the worst judgment of any human being I’d ever met. I didn’t trust him, and neither did his family.

  Vinny wasn’t actually stupid, but he thought he was smarter than everyone else. Constantly tried to go over, around, and under his older brother, whose authority he resented tremendously. I tried to stay out of that family squabble, yet somehow I always ended up right in the fucking center of it.

  I owed Donato Salvatore my life. He supported me in my business, and had taught me how to use my natural skills and turn them into something profitable. He ran interference if I got into trouble, guided me without insinuating I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. And when he needed me, I was there for him.

  Unfortunately, keeping up with his younger brother Vinny was a full-time job.

  The buildings lost the shine of Manhattan the closer we got to the East River. I knew who owned much of the property in Hunts Point. The dilapidated state was by design, to warn off anyone who ventured into the territory. The sky was a rich orange as daylight drew to an end. It was dangerous to be here at any time, but I’d lost my fear of the area nearly thirty years ago. I preferred the shadows of the darkness to the light. It was easier to hide in the blackness. This was where I’d become a man. As much as I hated returning, I needed it. To remind me of where I’d been.

  The car rolled past an old warehouse on Dupont Street that caused bitterness and pure hatred to rise to the surface. Over the years, I’d come to believe my course had been set the second I came into this world, but in that building, the defining moment of my life had occurred. There, I’d learned exactly how worthless I was, and that I’d do anything to prove I wasn’t.

  I spotted Vinny through the window. I cracked my knuckles and rolled my neck like I was about to throw down. That’s what dealing with Vinny felt like every fucking time. I’d always managed to keep my temper in check around him, but this evening, I could guarantee I was ready to beat the shit out of someone, and Vinny was well-deserving.

  I slid out of the car, approaching him unnoticed. He jumped when he discovered I was right behind him. “Jesus Christ, Elliott.” His hand immediately went to the concealed gun on his hip.

  “You should always be aware of your surroundings,” I said coolly, and his eyes flared.

  “You sound like my brother,” he returned with disgust.

  “He’s a wise man. Perhaps one day you’ll be smart enough to listen to him.”

  Vinny’s fingers flexed around the Beretta, and I fought the urge to laugh in his face. His short temper had taken many a life, but he wouldn’t take mine. Not here. Not like this.

  “We have a problem,” he gritted out. Technically he was second in command in his family, but he was well aware his brother trusted me above him. Donato and I weren’t oblivious to Vinny’s feelings. They were valid, but most times secondary.

  “When do we not have a problem?” I muttered, walking to the edge of the worn-out docks, avoiding a nail sticking up out of one of the planks.

  “The painting is gone,” Vinny said behind me. I immediately halted. “It was supposed to be on that boat.” He pointed to a fishing vessel that looked ready to sink. “It’s not.”

  “You put an $80 million Cézanne on a boat?” Fury boiled up.

  “We had to hide it.” His gaze shifted back and forth, from the vessel to me. He licked his lips. It was his tell. He’s lying.

  “So instead of using one of the planes at your disposal, you put yet another set of hands on the painting? Let's not even mention the elements,” I stated coldly. With Vinny it was better to play along. Eventually he’d lead right where I wanted to go.

  “This seemed more discreet. And you’ve used this tactic before,” he justified. We were around the same age, but sometimes he was like a fucking teenager.

  “The difference is my goods made it to their destination safely. Here’s what I suggest. Either you find what you’ve lost or come up with the cash.” I walked away and was halfway back to the car before I turned. “By tomorrow.”

  “There’s no way!” he shouted.

  “You should have considered that before.”

  I climbed back into the car and instructed the driver to go two blocks and stop where I could see the docks. Then I dialed.

  “Is it delivered?” Donato asked hopefully. He harbored a lot of guilt about his brother, felt responsible for the man he’d become.

  “He says it’s gone, but he’s lying. Get someone on his tail immediately.”

  “Already done,” he said. This didn’t surprise me. Donato frequently had eyes on his brother because he was a loose cannon, too much of a liability.

  “Then you know where he’s stashed the goods?”

  “In a warehouse that isn’t ours. I hoped he was being thorough, but he can’t be trusted. I’ll send in a team to extract it now.” There was disappointment in Donato’s voice. He wasn’t naive, but his brother was a difficult spot for him.

  “I told him to come up with the painting or the money by tomorrow. What are we going to do about him?” I was tired of Vinny getting preferential treatment because of who he was. But more than that, I was sick of him in general.

  “I’ll handle it.”

  Fantastic. Something else Vinny would blame me for. More grief I didn’t want or need. But I owed it to Donato to help with this job, though he never made me feel as if I was in his debt. I had my own separate business, but it was entwined with his. I depended on him, and I was afraid one day Vinny would be the thing that ripped us apart.

  If he didn’t, what I had to do very soon likely would.

  Chapter Five

  Vivian

  Present

  The sound of a key in the lock made my heart slam in my chest. I’d said he wouldn’t even know I was at the apartment. That wasn’t exactly the truth, but I hadn’t intended on being parked in the foyer either.

  I pressed my palms into the hardwood beside me. I wasn’t ready to see him. God, I wanted to see him. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since I’d left him in his study, but it felt like weeks. I missed him already.

  The doorknob turned in slow motion, my eyes riveted to it, breath held. After one look at the petite frame clad in dark jeans and a jade sweater standing in the doorway, I exhaled a lungful of air.

  “Vivian,” Muriella said, sweeping into the room, shoving the door shut behind her. She glowered at the luggage, and then her expression morphed into one of pain.

  The minute she sank down to join me on the floor, her tiny arms slid around me, and I buried my head against her chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered against my hair.

  “He told you?” I mumbled into her sweater.

  “Don’t hate me,” Muriella said, and my head popped up, our eyes meeting. Her mocha ones were tormented, and I tried to reassure her with mine that I could never hate her. Muriella was my best friend, my sister, my family. Just like I was nothing without Daniel, I couldn’t function without her either. “He told me earlier today.”

  I gave her a watery smile. “I should have figured that.” Then I gestured toward my stuff.

  She vehemently shook her head no, long hickory-colored locks flying. “I told him if he was intent on doing this, he was completely on his own. There is no way I’d ever help him destroy his life. Yours either.”

  I let out a long breath and dropped my head to her shoulder. “I made him give me a week to find somewhere else to go.”

  “Forget that. You’ll come live with me,” she insisted, steely determination behind her words.

  “I can’t. It’s too close to him.” I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering how in the hel
l I was ever going to make myself leave. It was the only place I’d ever felt at home. “He bought me an apartment. Can you believe that shit?”

  “I’m giving you a free pass on your language, just for today,” she admonished, but she didn’t mean a word of it. Bless her, she was trying to maintain a little bit of normalcy for my benefit. She was forever scolding me for my language, which we both knew was never going to change. “He wants to take care of you.”

  “Then why is he doing this to us? You don’t buy an apartment and load up the bank account of someone you’re breaking up with. And I swear I didn’t see it coming. But I should have, should have seen some sign. I honestly thought we were good. Better than that,” I finished, sounding as deflated as I felt.

  “I don’t know what’s going on. When I asked him, he shut down. But I’m scared, V. This afternoon, his eyes looked like they used to, before you came to us. There was nothing in them. They were just…cold.” Muriella appeared mystified by the change in the man we both cared for.

  We were quiet for a minute, reflecting on how to fix our family and where it all went wrong. Daniel had to have known this would not only affect the two of us as a couple, but Muriella as well. He wasn’t an emotional man, but he felt something fierce for her. I was furious with him for putting our M in the middle of this. It wasn’t fair to make her choose sides or even feel she would have to. I knew he needed her. If push came to shove, I’d give her up. But I was hellbent on keeping us all intact.

  Muriella amazed me. Though she was only six years older than me, her wisdom was that of someone far more mature, yet she managed to keep a lightness about her. Her determination not to let the past completely rule her was inspiring. That was one reason she spoke with no accent whatsoever despite her Nicaraguan origins. She wanted to blend in with her surroundings, disassociate from what she’d left behind, and she did.

  I pointed my chin toward the mountain of stuff. “So you don’t have any idea where my pajamas could be?”

  Muriella snickered. Where I’d found the strength to joke at a time like this, I wasn’t sure. But there wasn’t time to fall apart, even though I felt like all that was keeping me from going over the ledge was my fingernails. The breakdown was imminent, but I couldn’t let that happen until I had exhausted all efforts to get Daniel back.

  “I have no idea,” M said, taking my fingers in hers and squeezing.

  “Then looks like I’ll be wearing something of Daniel’s,” I said, preparing to stand. “Let’s get off this floor. My ass is numb.”

  We rose, but Muriella grasped both of my biceps, her expression worried. “Vivian—” she started, but I shook my head.

  “Not now, M.” She was here for me. That was what I needed. I wasn’t ready to talk.

  “We’ll eat. I’ve got roast chicken in the warming drawer downstairs.”

  She was already tugging me to the front door so we could go to her apartment on the floor below. I followed for a second before planting my feet. “Come with me to change.”

  We reversed course, going to my bedroom. Once we were in the closet that only this morning I’d shared with Daniel, it was like a punch in the nose seeing all his things there while mine were gone.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” I whispered, closing my eyes. It smelled like him. The pain that tightened my chest was almost more than I could bear.

  “Vivian, you are the most determined person I have ever known. Far more than Daniel, and that’s saying something. I can’t explain why difficult things happen, and I only have my experience to draw upon, but there is light after the darkness. God will never give you more than you are capable of handling. We will get through this,” she promised, and though I knew she was right, I had my doubts. Muriella had an unwavering faith. Mine wasn’t as strong, not by a long shot. I was more of a why in the hell is God doing this to me kind of person. She saw things as part of a bigger picture.

  I leaned my forehead against hers. “Keep telling me he’ll come back.”

  “I never said that, V,” she said softly, her voice pained. “Only that we would get through this together.”

  I gave her a wry smile. “I’d be perfectly okay with you bullshitting me right now to make me feel better.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “You’re right,” I conceded, appreciating the honesty between us. We didn’t keep secrets, and we didn’t tell lies. “Let’s go eat.”

  She brightened at that. “Aren’t you going to change?”

  “Yeah. I got a little shell-shocked coming in here.” I shook it off, drawing on the strength of my best friend.

  I quickly changed into a pair of Daniel’s old sweatpants and a T-shirt. It was some comfort having on his clothes, more significant than I expected.

  I slung my arm around M’s shoulders and guided her out to the bedroom. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

  She frowned and shot me a look of irritation. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t even ask me that.”

  Chapter Six

  Vivian

  Eight Years Earlier

  “Three days is all you could wait to see me again?” I feigned confidence to hide my surprise at the sight of the angel warrior in the lobby of Hamerstein and Associates. What in the dickens is he doing here?

  And why the hell did he look like he just walked off a runway? Hands shoved in his pockets. A suit that hung on his broad frame like it was made for him. Dark hair mussed by the wind.

  But those eyes…shrewd, yet pleasure evident in them as I approached. My heart stuttered, but my strides were fluid instead of betraying the slight tremor in my legs.

  “We weren’t properly introduced,” he said as he closed the distance between us.

  “Ever consider there’s a reason for that?”

  He grinned, and I looked down at my clothes to make sure they hadn’t evaporated on the spot. Lord knew I felt like ripping them off.

  “You don’t strike me as a runner.”

  What the hell? Maybe I didn’t work out religiously—okay, at all—but I was in damn good shape. I lifted my chin. “Well, you strike me as a stalker.”

  His eyes danced, but his mouth quirked down as if the accusation was a foreign one and he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

  “Would you believe I happened to be in the neighborhood? Wanted to hear that Southern drawl again?”

  “Not a chance.” I lifted my chin, and his eyes raked down the column of my neck. I flexed my fingers so as not to touch the skin where his look had singed me. I couldn’t do this. Feel whatever this was. “You’ve said hello. Now, I have work to do.”

  I spun, and he caught me by the elbow. His breath on my ear raised every hair on my body. “See. A runner.”

  Was he insinuating I was a coward? I whirled back around to set him straight and immediately regretted it. His face was inches from mine. I held my breath to keep from burying my nose in his suit. No one should smell that good. Not without a warning.

  “I hope this isn’t your usual approach with women.”

  Fuck him and that gorgeous smile. It lit his whole face and made him even more impossibly handsome.

  “They usually approach me.”

  I rolled my lips together. “That explains a lot.”

  “Don’t you want to know why I’m here?” His voice was so low that I leaned in closer to hear him. Another mistake. I was too close, all in his personal space.

  “You want a proper introduction.” I thrust my hand out, creating some distance. “Vivian DeGraw. Though you already know that. Now goodbye.”

  His fingers clasped my hand and squeezed. He didn’t shake, just held me in place. “Daniel Elliott. And this most definitely isn’t goodbye.”

  * * *

  I don’t believe this. Daniel had been trying for three weeks to get me to go out with him. I hadn’t said yes. And now the stalker was at Paths of Purpose carrying a stack of pizza boxes into the dining area. This was drastic even for him.

  I watched
as Daniel served pizza to the women and children gathered around one of the few cafeteria-style tables. He seemed eager to do it, as if he genuinely wanted to be there, when I naturally assumed he didn’t. And he was good with the kids—playing catch with some of the boys and watching a skit a few of the kids put on. In one afternoon, he shattered some of my preconceived notions about him. I saw a different man than the one he’d shown me thus far. Behind the cold, elitist image he’d crafted, he was infinitely more down to earth than he’d ever let on.

  I bumped my hip with his as we cleaned up empty plates and cups. “The kids like you being here.”

  A shadow crossed his face as he shoved a paper plate into the trash. He didn’t respond, so I continued.

  “They need a bigger space. I’m sorry to say it, but they’re overflowing here. Mrs. Quinn said they had ten new people come just last week.” The director of the facility and I had had long talks about the needs of the shelter. How she remained positive when there were so many in need impressed me.

  “What do you propose they do?” Daniel asked, focused on the clean-up task.

  I looked around, feeling helpless. “Build a new shelter. A much bigger one.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. But something.”

  “Why is this so important to you?” He set the garbage bag down and looked at me.

  I shifted from foot to foot. “I-I can’t really explain it. I feel it here.” I pointed to my heart. “I need to do something to help these people.”

  “I get it.” And I believed him.

  He resumed clearing the tables, and I found myself regretting that it was time to go.

  We left the building with reluctant steps, and I noticed an expensive-looking car parked at the curb. He spun on me and gripped my arms. “One night. Give me just one.” His eyes burned into me, intense and demanding.

  “No.”

  His hands dropped like I’d electrocuted him, and I felt cold without his touch. “Why?” He seemed perplexed, like he’d done everything in the world he was supposed to, and now I should just say yes. Spending an afternoon doing something good wasn’t going to convince me. It had helped his cause, given me a glimpse of his heart, but it wasn’t enough.