Until We Meet Again

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Until We Meet Again Page 21

by Renee Collins


  But today is bright and sunny and beautiful. Gulls swoop high above, and a lark sings cheerfully. The house is no different. When I finally venture cautiously into the downstairs, every corner is abuzz with anticipation of the party tonight. Servants trim the lawn and wash Ned’s Rolls Royce. Caterers and decorators bustle back and forth with bright, glittering armloads of food, champagne glasses, and decor for the party.

  Only one thing remains out of place. There’s no sign of Ned.

  I long to see Cassandra. I wish we could talk about what I should do. After not seeing her last night, I need to go wait for her now. She must be beside herself with worry. I want to comfort her. I need her to comfort me.

  After watching the steady flow of party preparations for a good ten minutes and deeming it safe, I head outside. The sun beams down on me like a spotlight, illuminating me for any dangerous entity to see. My skin tingles as if I’m being watched. I have to be brave for Cassandra. Everything will be better once we are together. As I cross the lawn, however, my eyes fall on a man. He leans against a marble pillar on the back patio, watching the hustle and bustle as he smokes a cigarette. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I recognize him. But from where?

  All at once it hits me. Hank.

  I see him now as I saw him last, casually ordering the execution of a bound, unarmed man. My knees lock. And then, as if summoned by my silent terror, Hank’s face slowly turns in my direction.

  The instinctive need to survive takes over. I know it draws more attention to me to run, but I can’t help it. In that moment, all that matters is getting back into the seclusion of my room. I race through the house, slamming my door behind me and locking it. My heart beats furiously in my chest.

  That was too close. He still might have seen me. He might be on his way after me right now. I tear open the button of my shirt collar. Even so, breath comes in short, tight gasps. I press my forehead to the cool wood of the door.

  Cassandra, what am I going to do?

  I can’t go to the beach now. I can’t risk being seen. I hate myself for hiding like this, but my body refuses to let me do anything else.

  The afternoon drags by with intolerable slowness. Then early evening. By seven, the first guests start arriving. Music floats from the outdoor bandstand. Laughter and the rumble of bright conversation ripple through the house.

  Unable to bear the sight of my room a minute more, I slink down the stairs and into the shadows of a rarely used sitting room. I need to see if Hank is still in the crowd. I need to look for Uncle Ned. By now, the anxiety of waiting has worn my nerves raw. I hide in darkness, listening to the pulse of the party outside and feeling more painfully alone than I imagined possible.

  Peeking out between the silk curtains, I watch the swirl of lights and brightly colored dresses. It’s happy, carefree, oblivious chaos outside. I imagine my gaze pushing past them, traveling to the calm beauty of the beach. The sun will be setting soon, sharpening the colors, casting brilliant, golden light over the waves. I imagine Cassandra standing at the shore break, her long hair and white gown flowing behind her in soft ocean breezes. Her arms reach for me. Her lips form my name.

  And then, like a flame searing past my eyes, I catch a glimpse of red in the midst of the swirling party guests. The sight brings me out of my dreams. I know that color, that dress. I know that sharp swoop of black hair.

  Fay.

  She moves through the crowd, searching. For me? I watch her, my heart rate rising. She happens to move closer to the window where I stand, unaware that I’m nearby. But she comes close enough for me to see her expression. Anxiety sharpens her gaze. She looks frantic, turning around any male guest near my age to get a glimpse of his face.

  She is looking for me. And she’s afraid.

  Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m out of the house and into the ruckus of the party. I lose sight of Fay.

  The unsettling feeling that I’m being watched grips me once more. The relentless music and the roar of chatter oppress my ears. I cut a look to either side, but there’s no sight of Hank. Looking for Fay, I nearly crash into a waiter carrying a tray of fluted champagne glasses. A man with a barking laugh shoulders past me, as if I’m not even there. A woman with too much kohl smudged around her eyes asks me if I’ve seen a little white dog in a clown collar. Dizziness fills my head like water. I spin away when a pair of dark, sultry eyes meets mine through the blur of faces.

  I’ve never been happier to see Fay. She runs up to me, out of breath.

  “Lon. Where have you been?” Her eyes still flash with unmistakable fear.

  I grip her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Fay? What happened?”

  She catches her breath for a moment. Or is she perhaps searching for the right words?

  “You were right,” she begins, her voice tight with clenched-back emotion. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you. From the very beginning. I never should have—”

  “I know,” I say, pulling her into my arms. I can’t bear to see the shame on her face. She’s hardly to blame for the sins of her family.

  But she pulls from my grip, staring into my eyes with confusion, even a little betrayal.

  “How long have you known?”

  “I only just found out. But I don’t hold it against you, Fay. Your family may have mob ties, but that doesn’t make you a criminal.”

  She steps back.

  “I watched you from the window,” I say softly. “You looked so afraid. Are they coming for me? Your family?”

  She shakes her head slowly. “You don’t get it, do you?” She grabs my jacket lapels. “You’re in danger, Lawrence.”

  “I know that. Did you tell your family I jilted you, and now your father wants to defend your honor?”

  “What? No! My father’s not the one you need to be afraid of.”

  “Then who?”

  Fay’s eyes grow dark, even in the intense, golden light of sunset. “Your Uncle Ned. He’s coming for you.”

  Chapter 32

  Cassandra

  The sailing trip with my parents brings me close to a mental breakdown. I move through the stages of grief multiple times.

  Denial. This can’t really be happening. I’m not gliding happily over the ocean while the love of my life faces death. There’s just no way.

  Bargaining. I’ll do anything if you let me go back. I’m sick. You have to take me back. I’ll break a hole in the bottom of this boat if you don’t let me go back.

  Anger. So much anger. This one took up most of the day.

  But as I sit curled at the stern of the ship, watching the sun sink into a shimmering ocean, the depression sets in. Hard.

  My forehead drops against the cold metal of the railing. I stare at the last wavering band of light, unable to catch a good breath. My eyes burn from fixating on the sun. Or maybe I’m going to cry. I’ve been holding back tears for most of the day.

  Saturday is over now, and Lawrence is probably dead. And I did nothing, nothing, to save him.

  “Cass?”

  Mom kneels beside me. Her hand rests on my shoulder, and the look in her eyes is one of overwhelming love and concern.

  The tears come.

  Huge, shaking sobs. The stress and fear and sorrow of the past few days are unleashed all at once. My mom holds me and I cry my heart out.

  “Tell me what’s going on, Cassandra,” she says, stroking my hair as I bawl into her shoulder. “I’m so worried. Did someone hurt you? Did this boy hurt you, Cassandra? If he did, so help me, I will rip his—”

  “No, Mom. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Then what? I’ve never seen you like this, Cass. Even in the middle of the divorce. I’m scared, honey. You need to talk to me.”

  But what can I tell her? The truth? Brandon’s reaction proved there’s no point in even going there.

 
Or is there? Maybe I could give her a version of the truth. At this point, what do I have to lose?

  I draw in a trembling breath. “Lawrence. That’s his name. And I’m in love with him. But he’s in trouble. Not with the law or anything. It’s something with his uncle’s business, I think. He’s in danger.”

  Mom frowns. “Why would he be in danger if it’s the uncle’s business?”

  “They’re just bad guys, okay? Trust me. He’s in serious danger. He may…get hurt.”

  Mom pulls me close again in a hug. “I’m sure he’s okay, sweetheart. You’re scared for him because you care about him, but—”

  “No,” I say, pulling back. “He’s going to get hurt. I know that.”

  “How can you—”

  “I just do. You have to believe me on this. I know it doesn’t make sense. It sounds crazy. But I know. For a fact. And that’s why I wanted to stay home. I have to help him.”

  Fresh tears cut down my face. Fresh pain claws at my heart. Mom brushes the hair from my eyes. She’s silent, analyzing me with her gaze. After a long pause, she looks at Frank playing with Eddie at the bow. Everyone’s pretending not to watch the crazy teenage girl losing it in the corner. Mom’s brow lowers.

  “Greg,” she says, turning to the captain. “Take us home. The fastest route possible.”

  My eyes widen. Mom strokes my hair and smiles. “The day’s not over. I’m sure this Lawrence kid is going to be okay, but if it’s that important to you to help him, well, that’s a worthy thing. And I’m proud of you.”

  I fling my arms around her. “I love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too, kiddo.”

  The wind whips my hair behind me as the captain turns the boat. Gripping the stern rail, I stare out at the land in the distance. The first star has pierced through the gradually darkening sky. I close my eyes tightly.

  I’m coming, Lawrence. Please don’t let it be too late.

  Chapter 33

  Lawrence

  Fay has always been mysterious and hard to read, but this is different. I put my hands over her fists, which still grip the lapels of my jacket with desperate force.

  “What do you mean, Ned’s coming for me? What are you talking about?”

  “He’s the one behind all this,” she says, her eyes wild.

  “Behind all what?”

  “Everything! Oh, Lon. I didn’t want it to come to this.”

  “Tell me.”

  “There isn’t time. He’s coming.”

  “Fay, please.”

  Her eyes dart around. “We have to go somewhere private. It isn’t safe to discuss it here.”

  She weaves us through the crowd. It’s as if I’m in the middle of a strange dream. We settle in a more secluded garden area, paved with brick and decorated with wild rose. Fay sits on the stone bench but then stands.

  “It’s hard to know where to start.”

  “Try.”

  She exhales shakily. “You know my family is part of the underground crime world. Well, so does your uncle. That’s the reason I’m here. I guess he’s been in some bad business deals. Really bad. He came to my family for help. He made an unorthodox deal with them. A deal involving you and me.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  Her eyes lower.

  “Speak plainly with me, Fay. If you had any idea what I’ve been through in the past twenty-four hours, you wouldn’t mince words.”

  “Your uncle promised you to the Cartelli family. He told them you’d work as a lawyer for my father to help make sure his tracks are covered on the legal end.”

  She’s speaking the words, but the idea seems too outlandish to believe. “What on earth made him think I’d ever agree to such a thing?”

  “That’s where I came in.” Her gaze becomes distant. “‘Such a pretty girl,’ Papa always used to say. ‘One day, you’re going to help the family like Nico and Riff.’”

  She touches her face, lost in thoughts. “He trained me from the time I was twelve. Taught me subtle ways to get exactly what I wanted from a man. How to carry myself. How to talk. How to dress. How to be every man’s dream come true. But he always made it very clear that I’d never be able to choose my own man. I couldn’t even go on dates. My only interactions with men outside my family were for training, under Papa’s watchful eye.”

  Hearing Fay open up like this, seeing the sad, vulnerable girl inside, I’m overcome with the desire to protect her. I take her hand.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugs. “It wasn’t a bad life. In fact, Papa spoiled me terribly. Any new dress I wanted. Jewelry. Shoes. Trips to the seaside with Mama and Isabella. As long as I understood that when the moment came, I could not disappoint him.”

  “And that moment came when Ned offered me as a lawyer,” I say, putting the pieces together.

  She nods. “I was the bait. I was supposed to seal the deal. Once you were in love with me, I’d see to it that you kept me happy, even if it meant working for my father.”

  I lower myself onto the stone bench, my head throbbing with all the new information. Was it possible? Could Ned really sink so low?

  Little by little, pieces from my memory fill in the story. Ned introduced Fay to me. He arranged the first several meetings and that night in New York, when he was so insistent that I would marry her.

  And then there was everything I learned last night. Jerome Smith telling me about Ned’s gambling debt. His revelation that the merger with Cooper Enterprises was only possible at the promise of Ned’s arrangement with “unknown entities.” Like the mob.

  “I can’t believe it,” I say softly.

  Fay comes beside me. “Can you forgive me, Lon?”

  I look at the girl before me. It’s strange to see her in this completely new light. She’s a different person in many ways. And yet, she’s still the same beautiful girl I’ve known all summer. I tuck a strand of her jet-black hair behind her ear. “Of course I forgive you. It’s not your fault. You were just doing your duty.”

  “It may have been duty at first,” she says, choking out the words, “but I came to love you, Lon. Truly.”

  I take her face in my hands. “Oh, Fay.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, she grabs my collar and presses a kiss to my mouth. I’m filled with a tempest of conflicting emotions. Cassandra has my heart, but somehow I can’t push Fay away. I don’t know if I’ll see tomorrow. And Fay’s lips are warm and soft, like they always were. I allow myself a single kiss.

  “Well, isn’t this a pretty sight. And here I was worried.”

  At the sound of Ned’s voice, Fay and I pull apart.

  He’s standing right in front of us, dressed in a stylish suit that almost looks comical stretched over his huge body. The sight of him sends rage through me. My fists tighten at my side.

  “Easy, boy,” Ned snarls, his expression suddenly becoming severe. “You’ve done enough damage today. Let’s not make it more.”

  “You owe me an explanation,” I say, clenching my jaw.

  “I’m sure Fay here has given you her own warped version of events.”

  “Is it true then?” I ask, the sting of his betrayal piercing me. “Did you really lose everything to gambling debts? Did you really promise me to the mob? Did you really try to push me into a marriage so that I could solve all of your financial problems for you?”

  Ned swipes a hand through the air. “I did what I had to do. You’d do no different. It’s not like I was giving them your head on a platter, boy. With Roberto, you’d be rich and powerful beyond your wildest dreams. It’s better than anything your stupid father could secure for you. I’m doing you a favor.”

  I shake my head slowly. “How could you think I’d ever become a criminal? I guess when you’ve sunken to that level, you think anyone will.”

  “You’re not as n
oble as you fancy yourself.” Ned scoffs. “You’re as low and common as any man here.”

  Fay jumps to my defense. “Don’t you dare insult him.”

  He whirls around. “Keep quiet.” His eyes burn with rage. “You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do. You’re nothing! Completely useless! If you’d done your job in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this mess, you worthless slut.” As he speaks the insult, he brings the back of his hand hard across Fay’s jaw.

  She lets out a cry of pain. Blood brightens her bottom lip. Shocked and furious, I grab Ned’s arm, pulling him away.

  “How dare you strike her!”

  Ned shoves me. Fay’s eyes glisten with angry tears. “Now you see your uncle’s true colors, Lon.”

  “Shut up,” Ned barks.

  “I’m not going to shut up,” Fay cries. “My father may be a criminal, but at least he owns up to who he is. You try to pretend that you’re a wealthy businessman. You throw all these parties so people will respect and admire you. But I’m going to tell everyone what a lowlife you are. I’m going to tell them all!”

  Ned grabs Fay by the wrist, bending it at an unnatural angle. She cries out.

  “Let go of her!” I lunge forward, grabbing him by the collar. Once again, Ned shoves me back, his sheer size giving him frightening strength. When I go for him again, he lands a punch to my jaw so hard that I crash backward into the stone bench.

  Ned spins to deal with Fay, but she has one of her red shoes in hand, and with a shout, she brings the high heel down into Ned’s face. He roars with shock and pain. Free from his grip, Fay runs headlong into the party, disappearing into the movement of the crowd.

  Ned lets out a furious growl. Pressing a hand to the cut on his face, he tears off after her.

  “Ned!” I shout, running to keep up with him. “This is between you and me! Leave her alone!”

  Ned makes his way through the crush of the bodies writhing and dancing, but they engulf me. In a blink, I can’t see Ned anymore. And I can’t see Fay either. I call her name, but the cry is lost in the music. I turn a full circle, looking frantically for her.

 

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