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The Arrangement Anthology 2(170)

By:H.M. Ward


But Sean remains glancing at his hand that’s holding mine. “The reason why Campone wanted those papers had little to do with the ledger. There was something else in there, something else that your mother was hiding. It meant enough to her that she spent her entire life running and looking over her shoulder. She knew he’d find her one day, and take back what was his. The ledgers were a cover, and the reason why you attracted so much attention. It became less obvious when Campone died. I thought they wanted me. It wasn’t until Marty shed light on things that I realized what we were really up against.”

My throat is dry but I managed to ask, “What do you mean?”

Marty interrupts, “Don’t—”

But Sean doesn’t listen. “During the reading of Campone’s last will and testament, your name came up.”

I stare at Sean, gaping. “What? Why would I be in his will? That doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand what you’re saying? The ledgers make sense, but not this. You're saying they want me.”

The two of them seem to understand something that I don’t. Marty waves his hands over his face and groans as he turns around. The woman standing with him says nothing, although I can tell she cares about him.

Sean swallows hard and looks down at our hands. He turns toward me and says the last thing that I expect to hear. “Victor Campone was your father.”

“No, I don’t believe you.” I pull my hand away from his, trying to back up, but Sean won’t let go.

“That’s why he showed up.” Sean explains, jabbing his thumb at Marty. “That’s how Campone’s men know for certain—it was in his will. It was also made known that Victor had more than one child. You have a brother that’s hunting you. He doesn’t want to share Victor’s assets. Things turned on their heads overnight. Victor Junior’s in charge of Campone’s men. The ledgers we have will give us some leverage, assuming we can get out of here before whatever happens, happens. Marty knows that there is a bomb that is supposed to go off around sunrise. They wanted all the Ferros to be in the house, but it just so happened that everyone is away. They thought you would come here because of me. That was part of the reason why I wanted to make the separation between the two of us. We need to move.”

I can’t move though. I feel like I’ve been sucker punched and my legs are failing me. They buckle under and I start to go down. Sean reaches for me and holds me up, smashing me into his chest, hugging me hard. I ramble, protesting, “That can’t be. I can’t be his kid, that’s wrong. I look like my father. Everyone said growing up that I look like my father. They didn’t mean Victor Campone, they meant my dad. Sean, Marty’s wrong, he has to be wrong.”

Marty and Sean look at each other, and then back at me. I can’t fathom this, even the suggestion of being that man’s daughter, having his blood running through my veins, makes me sick. Being hunted for it, that it’s the kind of family I came from, and that it’s the kind of woman I’m becoming. It scares the hell out of me. Sean takes hold of my shoulders and pushes the hair back from my face. Looking into my eyes, he says, “You are who you are. Your father doesn’t matter. We need to go, and I’ll be there for you, no matter what.”

Marty takes action before Sean does. He tosses a leather jacket to Sean and another to me. “Come on, let’s go.” Marty puts the key in the ignition and turns it over.

Sean bounces his motorcycle and turns the engine over before nodding at me to jump on the back. I swing my leg over and hop up. I wrap my arms around his waist. It brings back memories of the night we first met, of me jumping on the back of his old bike as we chased my crappy car down Deer Park Ave. “This will out run anything. Hold on tight and don’t fall off.” I nod, mortified.

“Split up. Let’s go as far from here as possible. Head to Oak Island. It’s a pain in the ass to get to, but we can hide the bikes in the shrubs and take a boat across the water to get there before it’s breakfast time. No one will see us. I think it’s the best bet. The only variable is Black. She’s still random, a wildcard.” The other woman mounts the back of Marty’s bike, and pulls on the helmet, fastening the strap under her chin. When she pulls down the visor, the tinting obscures her face and it becomes difficult to tell us apart.

We all do the same, and get ready to drive away. Marty kicks his bike into gear and flies down the driveway, turning in front of the house to take the main road out of here. Sean kicks his bike into gear and revs his engine, ready to fly out of here when his phone rings. The Bluetooth inside his helmet automatically picks up.