Sparrow(46)

He turned around and walked away, holding Sam’s little hand without sparing me a second glance. I knew right there that Brock was playing a game in front of his boss and his crew.

I needed to start doing the same, if I was going to survive Troy Brennan.

“You stupid little banshee,” Connor growled. He was panting like he had just completed a Tour de France.

This time he grabbed me harder by the arm, He’d been caught losing me, and it looked like his fury had boiled to a point he couldn’t control. He shook me aggressively just for kicks, then shook me more as he led me God knows where.

I was almost relieved when I spotted the car he’d driven me here in. Almost. I ducked my head and dodged a bruise as he threw me into the passenger seat like I was his duffel bag.

By the time, I righted myself, he was already behind the wheel and starting the engine. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded.

He just pumped the gas in response, to spite me.

"Where are you taking me?" I tried again.

"Back home," he answered. "You need to pack. You're leaving for Miami."

My throat tightened. "Miami? Why? When? For how long?"

Connor kept on staring at the road. He looked fed up, gripping the steering wheel like he wished it was my neck. "Ask your husband," he said through clenched teeth.

I decided to do just that. I sent a quick text to Daisy and Lucy, claiming there’d been an emergency at Rouge Bis and that I was needed in the kitchen. Hopefully that would reassure them for now. Then I turned my attention to dialing Troy.

I realized that I didn't even have my husband's phone number. Up until now, I hadn't really thought about it. The idea of trying to reach him was so absurd, it never occurred to me that I might need to ask him something at some point. I looked outside the window, then at Connor, then out again. Was I really going to ask my husband's employee for his phone number?

Then again, I had too many questions: Why Miami? Why now? Was he sending me alone or coming with? Plane! I was going to fly on a plane! How long was the flight? How long were we going to stay? Was this our honeymoon?

That one stopped me cold.

So what if Brock told me it was safe. Tons of things, bad things, could happen to me.

I was not going to Miami, I decided. The car stopped at a red light, and I opened my side of the car, determined, ready to run, but Connor grabbed my arm, his fingers digging deep into my skin. I felt the air leaving my lungs as I tried to contain the white-hot pain.

He was hurting me. On purpose.

"Let go!" I yelled.

"You're coming with me," he said, leaning across me to yank my door shut and then leaning back, only to hit the gas.

I didn't think. I just hurled my cell phone at him. It hit him in the side of the face and dropped into his lap. Blood trickled from his nose down to his chin. He swiped it away silently, glancing sideways at me, glaring like he wanted to kill me. I knew he probably would have, if it weren't for his boss.

My heart began to pound as my cell bleeped with a new message.

"Give it to me." I motioned for the phone between his legs. "I swear to God, Connor, you better do it now."

He continued to weave through the traffic. It was an idle threat, and he knew it. I had nothing to fight him with, no way to escape. He’d locked the doors and engaged the child safety locks.

“Here,” he said, surprising me and offering me my phone.

When I read Lucy’s text, my heart beat so fast I almost felt it leaping out of my throat.



Lucy: Tell me I don't need to call the police about this.



With shaky fingers, I wrote back: I can handle it myself. The joy of being a mobster’s wife, y’know. Speak later. x



I wasn't sure whether it was bold or stupid, but that was the moment when I realized that it was true. I was going to handle Troy and Connor myself.

And I was going to find my freedom, my happiness, inside this golden cage.





TROY





I NEEDED TO get my ass to Miami ASAP, and I’d decided to take Sparrow with me. Paddy had been dying of cancer for a few months now, and rumor on the street was he wasn't going to make it through the summer. Debt had to be collected and paid, and revenge was about to be served, cold and punitive.

It felt only fitting that Sparrow was there, even if she had no idea what I had planned. Plus, I didn’t trust her alone in Boston.

I was packing my suitcase when Cat showed up at my bedroom door, leaning her shoulder against its frame, wearing nothing but a suggestive smile and her fuck-me black dress that was tight like an undersized condom. Her eyes on me felt like a lap dance not worthy of the fat tip. I fought an eye roll.

"Hey, baby," she rasped, licking her bright red lips. I kept my eyes on the suitcase I was filling, wide open on the bed. “Mom told me your wife’s out and Brock picked up Sam from school to take him shopping, so I thought I’d drop by to say hi.”