Chapter 44

Faye

“Faye,” Cortez says, coming in from the garage. “This came for you.” He tosses an envelope at me. “Hey, I’ve got a domestic case. I could use a little assistance in working the neighborhood. They’re not interested in talking with Fiasco PD right now, but they might talk with you.”

I give him a nod and wrap my jacket around me. “I’ll send you an invoice for my hours.”

He taps the desk as he walks back toward his team. “You make better money than me. You do realize that?”

“And imagine that, it’s a side hustle,” I shout back, chuckling to myself.

The desk officer gives me a half smile this time. His mutton chops look as thick as the coiffed hair on top of his head. “Faye, you let me know when you want an assistant, if that’s true about pay.”

I give him a wink.

My phone dings, and within a few seconds, the rest of the station’s phones start dinging. Before I can even slide the news alert open, I hear one of the officers say, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

The headlines stem from The New York Times in national news: The Men Behind The Largest Scandal in Horse Racing’s History by Murray Ackroyd.

I read through the article about the history of winnings and the long lineage of horses that had been Triple Crown winners over the past decade and a half. The amount of money that is being estimated to have been won and earned throughout—and how misappropriated funds, the drugging of horses pre-races, the web of trainers, jockeys, and staff who all fell beneath one name: Finch & King. All of it had been brought to light by an unnamed, protected source.

Maggie .

When I step out into the cold air, I pull the tie on my jacket tighter. I start down the sidewalk toward my new favorite place to go on Saturdays now. My phone buzzes in my hand that I just buried in my pocket.

FOXX

Urgent matter. You are being volunteered to pick up all the proper candy for tonight’s candy salad bar. According to Lark, I’ve gotten the wrong kind of sour straws.

I can’t stop smiling as I answer his very serious request.

FAYE

I’ll stop on my way home.

FOXX

You’re calling my place home now?

FAYE

Minor slip. I’m still very much enjoying a big house all to myself.

FOXX

I still very much enjoy it too. Should we ditch the kids and meet there instead? Father of the Year is asking hypothetically of course.

FAYE

But now I’m craving candy salad.

FOXX

You said salad, Peach. You make my dirty thoughts soar with shit like that.

FAYE

Love you, see you in a while.

FOXX

Hurry up, I miss you.

I open my bag to toss my phone in, and the letter that Cortez gave me catches my eye. The manila envelope is stamped with no return address and sent to Cortez, but attention to Faye Calloway. When I open it, I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. It has been right around six months since I left her and my mom behind. And this time, it felt so much more final. Saying goodbye was more than most had, but I still felt like I wish I had more. Maggie chose to stay with Mom, and I needed to forget where that was—there was still a chance that connections and associates of Wheeler Finch would go looking for the woman who brought down an empire. But right now, with the looping cursive handwriting, my chest feels lighter.

Dear Faye,

Hopefully by the time this reaches you, you’ll have seen the news. As it turns out, I’m the hero now. If there’s ever a time when I get to rub that in your face, don’t think I won’t.

I heard that the tree at Christmas time in Rockefeller Center is just a tree. But for some reason, surrounded by buildings and an ice rink, it feels more like Christmas than anything else. I’d like to see that sometime. Maybe you would too.

Love ya, Bye!

-M

I bat away the tears that stream down my face. I’m so fucking proud of her. There had been plenty of things wrong with what Maggie had been forced to navigate on her own. But everyone’s biggest mistake was that they had underestimated her. She had her crutches and faults—gambling had never done her any favors—but my sister managed to dismantle an empire and decided not to let anyone get away with using her as a pawn.

She’d stayed in Witness Protection to make sure Wheeler Finch couldn’t find her. This article guaranteed that every single person who had any affiliation to horse racing in Kentucky knew what Finch & King had done. And while most would never know what my mother had to sacrifice for it, or what each of us had been forced to sacrifice for it, we came out on the other side alive and knowing what it felt like to be loved.

It's warm tonight, but for the first time all summer, the breeze cuts through the humidity and it finally feels enjoyable to be outside. The air has the perfect sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar as I walk around the back of the house. The blown-up movie screen is set up along the edge of the patio. Lark’s talking to Lincoln about something, and Lily’s trying to throw popcorn into the air and catch it on her tongue.

Lincoln sits between his girls, arms spread behind the back of the outdoor couch, head tilted back and looking up at the sky. I always like catching him in moments like this, observing and cataloging the details of a new life that I continue to fall more in love with each day.

Kit lets out a bark as soon as she sees me and jumps down, greeting me with a slow gallop. And at the same time, all three of them turn to look at me with matching smiles.

“Faye! Okay, we’re trying to decide what movie tonight. Lily wants to watch Field of Dreams or Princess Diaries again,” Lark says, rolling her eyes. “But I’m thinking it should be A League of Their Own since we have softball this weekend.”

“Maybe we can do something new?” Lincoln suggests. “How about the new Transformers or the Ghostbusters movie?”

Lark gives him a grimace, like it was the most awful idea.

Lily chimes in, “Bad call, Dad. Do you remember how long I had bad dreams about Slimer when I turned seven?”

He points at her. “Your Uncle Ace should not have let you watch that movie when you were seven,” he laughs out.

I hold up the bags of candy. “I got the good sour straws and extra-butter popcorn,” I tell them with an eyebrow wiggle.

“I’ll make the popcorn!” Lark grabs the bags and heads inside as Lily trails behind her, sing-songing that she’s on candy salad duty.

Lincoln smiles at me from a few feet away. “I saw the article,” he says.

“Have you talked to Hadley?” I ask, concerned about her and the fallout that will undoubtedly start bleeding into her life from all the chaos that her father has brought to Fiasco.

He nods, pulling my hand into his and kissing it. “She’s dealing with it. She might need a minute, but she’s not there yet. When I told her she should come over for movie night, she was planning on a night with her firemen.” Shrugging, he shakes his head. “She’ll be okay.”

He wraps his arms around me and nuzzles his nose along my chin before kissing me. His lips meet mine, and he pours all of himself into it. Our tongues meet in a slow swipe that has my belly flipping as he holds me tighter. My fingers move along his neck and rake into his hair, keeping him close as he hums against me.

“You keep rubbing up on me like this and this movie is going to be painful to watch,” I tell him through a giggle.

“Peach, it’s too hot out to get naughty under a blanket,” he says, dragging his lips along my neck. The low hum of the cicadas and the random ticking of crickets fill the silence.

Seconds later, Lark and Lily come rushing outside with two big bowls—one with popcorn and the other with a massive mix of sweet and sour candy. They perch on the couch, while Lincoln and I cozy up together on the chair. Summer outdoor movies have become our newest thing. Since summer began, I’ve been spending even more time folded into their lives. It’s felt easy and natural to be here with them.

Lark starts the movie, and the music echoes through the surrounding speakers. It’s a random night that I’ll try desperately to remember. With my back to Lincoln’s front, I nudge into him, and I hear a gasp leave his lips before he whispers against my neck.

“Planning to drink some bourbon later, Peach?”

I smile and nod as I sink into his hold. Both of us know exactly what happens when we mention drinking bourbon together—it always ends deliciously messy. And while I’m wildly turned on while wrapped in his arms, it’s only a fraction of how I feel when I’m with him. Protected, worshiped, and so cared for.

With Lincoln Foxx, it feels bigger than a simple word like love. When I’m with him, it feels like home.