“Wait a minute?” I ask, noting that Layton shuddered at the mention of the school. “My Aunt Glady knew about you.”
“Our Aunt Glady does,” she says expressionlessly.
All these years, not only did my parents lie to me, but my Aunt Glady did too. I thought I could trust her, but I guess I was wrong. My whole family is a bunch of fucking liars.
“So why the fuck are you suddenly showing up now.” I swing the gun back and forth between the two of them. “And leaving me notes I’m guessing.” My attention lands on Layton, because now that he’s here and alive, it’s starting to make sense. The reason the handwriting looked so familiar, the woman in leather being at The Dusky Inn, the note on my hand after the Tenner incident.
“It was the only way I could think of to make contact with you without giving myself away.” His gaze welded to mine, barely blinking, like he’s afraid I’m going to bolt. “I was trying to get you to leave Glensdale, trying to get you to leave subtly before…” He scratches the back of his neck and the looks to Solana for help.
“Before what?” My voice carries warning as I cock the gun.
Solana rolls her eyes at Layton then looks at me. “Before I have to kill you.” Her expression is dead serious, stone cold, her hands near her weapons. The look in her eyes tells me she’s planning on doing exactly what she just said. “You broke the rules though Layton,” she says, hoping off the dresser. “We had a deal. No contact with her ever again.”
“Well, it’s a stupid pointless rule,” he says in a low, heated tone as he starts to stalk toward her, raising her gun. “One you made up just for your own fun.”
“I have my reasons. And besides, it doesn’t matter why. You still broke the rules by seeing her—broke our deal.” Her eyes drift to the unmade bed. “And fuck her apparently.” She glances back at him. “You’ve been a bad boy.”
I should kill her. Kill her now and protect myself. But I know I can’t. Know from too many experiences it’s not going to be easy.
“So you’re here to kill me?” I ask in a surprising firm tone. I eye her over, wondering what to do next, attack her because I sure as hell can’t shoot her. Maybe I could lunge forward and wrap my fingers around that pretty little neck… I trail off at the sight of a tattoo on her neck. A triangle with the Roman numeral ten inside it. Bloody, fucking hell. My muscles ripple, tighten. “Who the fuck are you for real?”
Layton and her both give me a perplexed look. “Lola, we just explained this to you,” Layton says, stepping toward me, but I step back.
I disregard him, my eyes fixed on the tattoo on her neck. “Do you know Nyjah?”
She looks absolutely bored. “You’re boss at your whorehouse? Yeah, I saw him when I was scoping the place out.”
“You have his family crest tattooed on your neck,” I say, but then realize that it might not be a family crest. It could mean something else. “He has that exact thing tattooed on his neck as well.”
“Well, it’s not his family crest.” Her fingers wander to the tattoo on her flesh and she touches it absentmindedly. “But it explains some things.”
“What things?” I huff out a frustrated breath. “Tell me what the fuck it means.”
Neither or them speak, both just looking at each other as if waiting for the other one to explain. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. Whatever they’re waiting for I don’t want to be around for.
One…
Two…
Three…
I fucking run, because I’m better at that. I don’t for the obvious choice thought—the front door—since both of them are blocking my path. I sprint for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, and locking it right as someone rams against the other side.
“Lola, open the door!” Layton yells from the other side. “It’s not what you think!”
I back away from the door until my back bumps the sink. “You don’t even know what I’m thinking so how can you possibly know that.” I glance around at the bathtub/shower, the sink, and then at the window, which is way too small for me to fit in. Nowhere to go.
As Layton continues to bang on the door and yell at me, I sink to the floor and rest my head back. I’m not even sure I’m tripping on the tattoo so much as the pile of lies and secrets the two of them dumped on me. All these years, my entire life, is nothing but a lie. I’ve known this for a while, but didn’t realize the vastness of the secrets hidden in the Anelli family. It makes me wonder just how many more there are.
But I think the real thing that gets me more than the secrets, the thing that’s clawing at my skin, is that I’m here right now, in this place, the crappy person that I am, the person who kills and fucks men for a living, because I had to settle a debt my father got into with Frankie because he what? Wanted to hide Solana? Because my mother cheated on him with his brother, who he doesn’t like? That’s why all this shit happened? Because of that. It’s bullshit.
As I’m stirring in my own anger, the door suddenly bursts open. Layton stumbles inside the bathroom, shaking his head, while I remain calm on the floor.
“How long have you known about all of this?” I ask as he catches his breath. “About Solana and my father—her father. How long?”
His mouth sinks to a frown. “I… For a couple of years… pretty much since I started working for Frankie. Well, at least about Solana. I didn’t know the whole story though until… until the day I technically died.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I rise to my feet, loathing how hurt I am that he kept so much from me. It reminds me of why I shut down so much. “We were best friends—why didn’t you just say something. I wouldn’t have told anyone.”
Looking torn, he glances over and then steps all the way into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “It was more complicated than that, otherwise I would have.” He takes a step toward me then another and I have nowhere to go since I’m already pressed up against the wall. “That day I started working for Frankie was because I had to, Lolita. My father made me.” There’s so much hatred in his eyes. “They’d made a bargain a long time ago about it… out of all the people, it had to be Frankie Catherlson.” He dares another step toward me and then another until he’s right in front of me. “That day your mother died I learned that it would happen eventually—that eventually I’d work for Frankie. That the Everett’s and Catherlson’s would join each other and unite their bloodlines. It’s part of the reason why I decided to fake my own death Lolita… the things Frankie was making me do… what he was going to make me do… I couldn’t do it anymore…” he trails off then blows out an exasperated breath, his hand coming down on the wall beside my head. “That night—the night we killed. Frankie set you up. And I knew about it.” He yanks his fingers through his hair and lets out an exasperated breath, eyes blazing with self-hatred “God, I fucking knew that you were going to walk into that trap. I was told to let them kill you, punishment for your father getting into debt with Frankie. But I couldn’t do it… couldn’t lose you… never can…” He reaches out and grazes his finger across my cheekbone, sending warmth throughout my body. “I can never let the girl I love get killed.” He swallows hard, his breath faltering. “So I stepped in and… well you know the rest. They put a hit on me when they found out, but thankfully I found my way out, thanks to Solana.”
My brows knit. “What does Solana have to do with this?”
“A lot,” he says as his hands spread across my cheek. “But I think it’s better for her to tell you… it’s her story… the things she went through… what your father did to her to keep her hidden… Lola, she’s had a rough life and that tattoo… it has to do with it so just let it go for now. Please.” He gives an elongated pauses, his eyes searching mine. “Tell me you forgive me. I need you to forgive me.”