Escape (The Covington Heights Crew Book 1)

by Deana Birch

“It made me think a lot. You know, like, I didn’t either. I didn’t want to do this. I just always assumed I had to. Then you opted out.”

  “I still don’t want to, but I get it. What else are we going to do? It’s not like we went to school. Shit, what am I going to put on a résumé? Knows where to bury bodies?” It had been something that I’d struggled with for years. Everything I was good at was violent and illegal. Making a living pouring drinks seemed like a depressing waste of my talents. Frankie had probably had the same struggle.

  We stopped at a red light and Frankie tapped the steering wheel with his thumb. “The thing is, I’ve been looking for a way to get legit for a while now.”

  I cranked my neck. Say what?

  “Don’t look so surprised. Every relationship I have fails. You know why?”

  Another rhetorical question. I let it hang in the air.

  “Because I am a liar. I pick smart, beautiful women and they can smell my fucking lies. They never get the real truth, and the dishonesty always bubbles to the surface. It’s why Mom left.”

  There were more reasons why our mother had left us with a killer. The untruths that had passed between her and my father were only part of the reason, but I wasn’t going to contradict my brother in his big-boy sharing circle. He had a point he was getting to, and he could take as long as he needed to get there. Our relationship wasn’t something I was going to play with. I needed Frankie—not for a job or money, but for the understanding of who I was and what I struggled with. Maybe this was his way of telling me the same thing.

  “Anyway, I want a family. I want to teach a kid how to fish like Dad did for us. As fucked up as it all was, there were great times between us three.”

  That was another thing I wrestled with—how to love a man who’d taught me everything, when ‘everything’ meant I was a skilled assassin.

  I finally spoke. “I get it.”

  “I know you do. So here’s the thing… I don’t want to take lives either.” Frankie dared a glance in my direction and smirked. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s not as fun as Pop made it sound.”

  That, I wouldn’t know. I’d killed Mac and those two Bradford fucks without a second thought. After what they’d done to Fiona and faceless other women, I wasn’t sorry I’d seen them draw their last breath. I hadn’t been constricted with guilt.

  “So what are you going to do? Just stop? Turn your life around?” I asked.

  “Funny you should say that. Yes, basically. I want to go from taking lives to saving them.”

  I laughed. It was probably rude, but it was so unlike Frankie that it had come out of me before I could control it. “You gonna put on a badge and protect and serve? Pop just rolled over in his grave, wherever the fuck that is.”

  Frankie scoffed and pulled next to a massive truck that hovered over his sports car. “I’m not going to become a cop. I’m going to start a security detail company for the rich and stupid. All those loaded brokers downtown do so many drugs that they’ve convinced themselves they’re going to get robbed at gunpoint. But their liberal tendencies won’t allow them to own a gun and few of them have the discipline to become actual fighters. Their gym routines would make you giggle like a schoolgirl.”

  “You’re serious.” If a fortune teller would have told me Frankie would be the one to give up on dad’s business, I would have asked for my money back.

  “The lies are eating me up, Leo.” There was a sadness in his eyes that I’d never seen before but had recognized from my own. “Not to mention the body count. Fuck. See? My moral compass is shattered. If I don’t stop now, I don’t think I ever will.”

  We rode the rest of the way in silence, the weight of our conversation a heavy block in our stomachs and a lot to digest. It didn’t feel right asking about Fiona after all he’d just shared. But when we got to Chezzie’s, instead of pulling into the lot down the street, he double parked in front of the restaurant.

  Frankie put the gear shift in neutral and pulled the hand brake. “The other thing I thought about when you were away, in Covington and Turkey, was that I didn’t want to lose you again. Yeah, we have Chez, but it’s not the same. I was selfish to keep you from your girl. I’m sorry. I thought it had to be one or the other, because—”

  “Because Pop said we were all we ever had.”

  “Probably. But I need more. And you might already have more.” Frankie thumbed to Chezzie’s front window.

  “What?” My heart skipped three beats. I’d expected a piece of paper with Fiona’s address or where she was working, not a fucking date. I was in a suit. I was not prepared for our reunion. I hadn’t even thought of what to say. ‘Hello’ seemed completely insufficient.

  “She’s inside?” My voice cracked. Holy hell, what was I, a fifteen-year-old boy?

  Frankie laughed. “Oh my God… You are in a full-on panic.” He wiped away a tear that was definitely not there. He always has enjoyed my suffering. “Pull yourself together and get in there.”

  I planted a kiss on Frankie’s smooth cheek and checked the mirror of the car while I reached for the handle. Something poked at my heart. He hadn’t wanted to lose me and deserved to know he wouldn’t.

  Over my shoulder and with my feet out of the door, I said, “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll work out the future together.”

  Frankie offered a tight smile as his goodbye and I tapped the top of the car as mine. Funny how much could change. I wondered if it would affect Fiona’s and my connection. There was only one way to find out.

  My heart thumped and I had to let out a powerful exhale before opening the door. The wonderful Italian aromas hit me in a mouth-watering breeze. But what slammed me in the heart was my Aunt Chezzie swinging Violet in her arms—Violet, whose dark hair had grown to her shoulders and whose bare legs were definitely longer.

  “Leo!” Violet squealed. She’d remembered me, and from the excitement in her voice, they’d been happy memories. I could only hope her sister would be as enthusiastic. After all, I’d abandoned her for three months.

  I kissed my aunt and Violet on the cheeks. “Hello, you gorgeous ladies.”

  “This little angel is my new helper.” Chezzie smiled at Violet. She’d always wanted a daughter, especially after witnessing Frankie and me beat on each other for decades. My aunt pecked my cheek before tapping it. “Back booth.”

  Heat crawled up my neck.. The possibilities of how I would find Fiona ranged from broken to pissed off. Her brown eyes swept over me and she was chewing a nail. She was more beautiful than I had allowed myself to remember. She wore a simple dark-green dress and her hair was down. She’d put on makeup—a little mascara and a pink, glossy lipstick. The tight smile on her face couldn’t hide the caution written all over her body language.

  I slid into the booth. “Hi.” I drew out the short word, inviting her to send back the low hum of energy that had already met her halfway.

  Fiona stared at me and I realized that a reunion in real life was going to be a lot more difficult than the blissful jumping into my arms that I’d imagined. The panic from the car came back.

  Her face twitched a couple of times before settling on a frown. “It’s really nice to see you.”

  “Violet recognized me.”

  “I would hope so. She only reminds me that my spaghetti is nowhere near as good as yours every time I try to make it.”

  Mandolin music strummed in a quiet melody overhead. I recognized it from all the other nights I’d eaten at Chezzie’s.

  But the chemistry was well on its way to threading us back together. Her little smirk gave away the fact that it was breaking down whatever wall she’d put up to convince herself that she needed to be guarded with me.

  “Why are you in a suit?”

  “Why are you in a dress?”

  Fiona rolled her eyes and I could have kissed her. That spunk… Christ, I’d missed that side of her.

  “I have dresses now.”

  “Good,” I said and meant it. But just to jab
her back I added, “I have suits now.”

  “Fine.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Glad we got that all cleared up.” There was a little snip in her voice that both amused and reassured me. She needed to start with a little fight to prove that her showing up didn’t mean we were going to pick up where we’d left off. Although, I wasn’t sure that would have been a good idea anyway.

  I narrowed my eyes and took the bait. “Are you mad at me?”

  She looked away then back at me. “I didn’t realize it until I laid eyes on you, but yes. Yes, I am. I needed you and you left me. Also, I plan on paying you back. I have a job and I haven’t used all that money.” Her volume rose with every word but I didn’t care. A pissed-off Fiona was a much easier fix than a broken one. Besides, it was more an act of protection than true anger.

  “What else?” I flapped my hand for her to give me more, then leaned back with my arms overhead.

  “I’ll tell you what else. You can’t just mosey in here looking like a Dolce and Gabbana model, kiss my sister and think we’re good. We have shit to talk about.” She tapped the table with her index finger. It was adorable. God, I love her mad.

  “Good point.” I nodded. “Can we eat while we talk, or is smelling my aunt’s cooking without tasting it some kind of penance I have to pay?”

  “Oh, we’re gonna eat.” Her wide eyes may have read crazy to a stranger, but to me her loopy fuming was like going home. “Then you’re gonna walk me home and kiss me goodnight.”

  “Is that so?” I motioned to Chezzie that she could bring the wine and starters.

  “Yeah. Then you have to, like, properly date me.” Her proud little tantrum ended with her eyebrows raised and arms crossed.

  I faked fear with a cringe. “Sounds terrible.”

  “Oh, it’s gonna be.” This time her smile was real, and she kept it on while she scooted over to make room for Violet.

  We filled ourselves with Chezzie’s food and had one glass of wine each. I wanted to talk to her about her trauma and tell her about my plans for the future, but I had time for that. After many goodbyes and promises to be back soon, we left Chezzie and I hailed a taxi to drive us uptown. Her place was only four blocks from Nanna’s and I escorted her and Violet through the entrance of the building and up two flights of stairs to her apartment. She told Violet to get changed for bed and I hovered in the doorway.

  “I’m pretty sure your instructions involved a kiss.”

  Fiona stepped closer and brushed my cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re real, right?”

  “I am.”

  Instead of me kissing her, she leaned in and pressed her lips into mine for a long time, sealing our connection. All the starving, all the craving I’d had without her faded away. I interlaced our fingers, afraid my hands would shift into overdrive once they’d touched her.

  “Fifi,” Violet said from the hall, “teeth.”

  Fiona broke the kiss and looked up at me with a soft smile. “Be right there, baby girl.” Then a whisper to me, “I missed you.”

  I kissed her forehead and she stepped away.

  “Is it wrong to have our second date tomorrow?” I asked, then bit my bottom lip.

  “Third. Technically it will be our third.” Fiona walked backward and her cheeky smile woke up an entirely different side of me.

  “Can I sleep on your couch?”

  “Nope. But you can pick us up at six tomorrow.” She scooped up Violet and made her wave at me. “Oh, and that’s p.m., Mr. I-Have-Suits-Now.”

  “Copy that, Miss I-Have-Dresses-Now.” I saluted her and closed the door.

  She was right. There were things that we needed to talk about—probably work through. But damn it if just being normal for five minutes wasn’t the best kind of medicine for our broken souls.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Fiona

  Chezzie and Violet waved from the curb in front of her restaurant. It was hard to tell which one of them was more excited for their sleepover. Over the last few months, Leo’s aunt had become the fairy godmother Violet had never had. If they weren’t in the kitchen together, they were getting matching manicures or cozied up reading stories of princesses and unicorns.

  The presence of another strong, loving woman in Violet’s little life had also given me some breathing room to work on healing wounds I hadn’t had time to notice. According to my therapist, I had abandonment issues. Yeah, she’d really earned the diploma framed on her wall with that one. But I liked talking to her, and she was proud of me for taking things slow with Leo.

  Leo. The man who winked his reassurance from the driver seat before reaching for my hand and kissing the back of it.

  “She’s gonna be fine, Fi.”

  “I know.” And I did. I’d offered to pay Leo back many times for the nest egg that had allowed Violet and me to change our lives, our futures, but he always refused. While it hurt my pride, I also knew what it had provided for my sister. I didn’t want to be a woman who took handouts, but I also couldn’t let the opportunity for Violet’s ‘normal’ life slip away due to my ego.

  As we drove upstate, Leo filled me in on his and Frankie’s first client. He was a former tennis-player-turned-reality-star who had a bad habit of sleeping with married women. All the drama was making Frankie irritable. And, according to Leo, it was made worse by the fact that Frankie wasn’t getting laid. So our little weekend away was a much-needed break for both of us.

  Leo turned off to the familiar tree-lined path and parked at the end. The crisp forest air was cooler than the previous time we’d hiked up the mountain to the little lake, but I was significantly more prepared. I even had a real pair of black mountain pants.

  The hike seemed shorter, even though Leo had stopped several times and gathered wild mushrooms. The easy nature between us and around us was very much my happy place. All those months ago, when I’d teased Leo about being Skip, I would have never believed that he and I could have created a life after Covington. But there we were, doing just that.

  When we got to the little clearing that led to the campsite, I was almost sad that the walk had ended. I loved the way he knew every bird call, every tree, which mushrooms were not okay to eat and which animal tracks belonged to what animal. The city boy I’d met on the street was a far, far cry from the soul that resided in my Leo.

  Because he was mine, I was sure. We’d never formally professed our love, but I could feel it growing in me every second I was around him. And his past? As messed up as some of the bits and pieces he’d shared were, it had made him the man he was.

  We dropped our packs next to the stone circle for the fire.

  “I’ll set up.” Leo dropped to his knees and unzipped his bag.

  “I can help.” We both knew that was a lie. I was utterly useless in all things nature and cooking.

  But he didn’t laugh. “You’re good. Maybe see if you can find any dry wood.”

  I nodded but wondered how one could tell the difference between dry and wet—and how damp was too damp. In the brush, there were a few sticks and I wandered a bit deeper into the trees before I found a couple of dead logs. I lugged them back and the tent was already up.

  Leo sat on a small stump, dusted off his mushrooms and offered me a sweet smile.

  “You spoil me. You know that, right?” I asked.

  “I have to. You’re the only woman who can deal with my massive ego.” It was true. Leo Ricci had a healthy dose of self-confidence—but rightfully so. He could kill a man with his bare hands then turn around and sip imaginary tea with my little sister and make that hotter than any brutal force.

  “I bet you could line a block with women willing to try.”

  There were times when I had to convince myself that I deserved someone like Leo. And almost every day I told myself it was okay to rely on him, that we needed to move with one foot in front of the other, not cheat our way to the finish line.

  As if reading my thoughts—he had an eerie way of doing that—he said, “I’d pi
ck you every time, Fi. Every time.”

  “Stop being dreamy. It’s annoying.”

  Leo placed the mushroom to his left and crawled over to me. He kissed up my neck and I giggled. “You know what else is annoying?” He nudged me backward with his forehead and I fell gently onto my back. “How fucking beautiful you are.”

  We shared a long kiss, nothing forcing us to speed through it or hide its passion in front of a three-year-old’s eyes. Leo hovered over me and pulled back with a growl.

  “God, you are addicting.” He shook his head. His hair had grown and the thick mop suited him. “But seriously, Fi, I need to tell you something.”

  “You can tell me anything,” I whispered and brushed his cheek. Leo and I had no secrets. It made our bond that much stronger.

  “That’s the thing… I can tell you everything. So I need to let you know that I want more. I want everything with you, everything from you. I love you.”

  Leo’s dark eyes still held danger, but I’d learned to understand that it would never be for me. In fact, I was thankful for it. It had saved my life and given me a new one.

  “I love you, too.”

  “Good.” Leo rolled off me and climbed into the tent. He came back with a shy grin and a sparkling ring.

  Oh. My. God. I propped up on my elbows and my pulse raced.

  “I was going to save this for later when I got you naked, but this seems better.”

  Yes. All I could think of was the word ‘yes’. A million yesses.

  “Fiona”—Leo tilted his head and smiled—“I meant what I said. I want everything. I want to adopt Violet. I want us to make our own babies. I want to get a damn dog and buy a stupid house. But most of all, I want you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

  Tears puddled in my eyes and my face grew hot. How Leo had integrated Violet into our life had been the first annoyingly wonderful side of him that I’d seen. And the fact that his plans had always included her was further proof of how much he cared for and understood who I was.

  So much for one step at a time. Leo Ricci was the only person on the planet who truly knew me, and he loved me even then.