Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Anya

W hen I get back to my room, Livy is there.

My throat closes up. I’m so happy to see her that I almost burst into tears, but I have a lot of explaining to do, and I don’t know if she can forgive me.

“Anya,” she says in a compassionate tone, gripping my shoulders but refraining from hugging me.

I appreciate both her consideration for my wound and that she’s calm instead of dramatic. The fact that she doesn’t make a big deal of how we almost died helps me to keep my composure. Not charging at me with accusations, even though I deserve every ounce of her blame, makes me want to weep with guilt and relief. Emotionally, I’m a mess. I don’t even want to think how she feels. If the gray, no-label tracksuit she wears, the ponytail in which she bundled her long hair, and her face that’s scrubbed free of make-up are anything to go by, it’s bad. I’ve never seen her in dull or average clothes.

“I’m sorry,” I say, cupping my stomach where the stitches pull.

“It’s not your fault.” She ushers me to the bed. “You don’t have to apologize.”

I climb onto the step with some difficulty and heave myself onto the mattress, cursing my immobility. “I should’ve told you what Saverio was involved in, but I wanted to protect you.”

She sits down in the chair. “Did you think I didn’t have a clue?” Her expression turns sly. “Honey, I know a made man when I see one. I don’t even need my contact lenses.”

“Really?” I study her with surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t my place. Your business is nobody’s business. You would’ve told me if you wanted me to know.”

“But…” I battle to get my head around that. “How did you figure it out? You said Saverio told you his business was software development.”

She laughs. “Do you think my Harvey was a regular suit and office guy? Oh, the suit was in the picture, and not just any old suit. Harvard Jackson knew how to dress, and he filled a tailored three-piece in a way that made a girl’s knees weak and her lady bits tingle. He did own a few businesses, mostly thriving barber shops, but he was no hairdresser or pencil pusher. I never did tell you how he died.”

“How?” I ask, riveted by her story.

“There was a shootout at one of the banks he robbed.”

“Oh, Livy.”

“I told him not to go that day.” She gets a far-off look in her eyes. “I had a feeling that morning, but Harvey kissed me like only he could, making me forget about everything else, and then he left to do the only thing he knew how to do.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“I’m not going to lie and say the danger didn’t do it for me. It was part and parcel of his appeal.”

“But you were a schoolteacher,” I exclaim.

“That was after Harvey. Before that, we were like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“You didn’t rob banks with him, did you?” I ask with my mouth hanging open.

“Of course not. But he always told me about his plans. I felt very much a part of everything. Harvey trusted me like he trusted no one else. Now you know why I never told you about him.”

“To protect yourself?”

“To protect our pact. I’m not the kind of girl who shoots off her mouth about her man or about what happens behind closed doors.”

“Is that why you’re not angry with me?”

“Anya.” She leans over and takes my hand. “You’re the kind of woman who knows how to keep a man’s secrets. It’s a rare quality. No wonder Sav is so taken with you. You’re perfect for each other.” She pats my hand. “When you fall for a man like Harvey or Sav, you don’t have the luxury of choosing between right or wrong. Once they’ve decided you’re theirs, you don’t stand a chance. You may as well give up the fight.”

“What happened in the church?—”

“It’s tragic and damn-right unjust, but it happened. Don’t harp on it. It’s not going to change anything, and it won’t do you any good. The important thing now is to fight for Sav and your baby girl.” She gives my fingers a squeeze before letting go. “But before you even start with them, you have to fight for yourself.”

I consider her for a moment. There’s so much about Livy I never knew. I always found her secretiveness part of her charm, but I could never have guessed what she endured.

For all of one second, I consider telling her everything and not just the superficial parts she worked out for herself—how Saverio blackmailed me into being his alibi and his wife and that he only married me for my child so that he can realize his dream of being a father. But then I look into her wise blue eyes and see so many more secrets.

Livy is right. Some skeletons are better left in the closet. Some feelings are too personal to share. Besides, I can’t tell her why Saverio threatened me without telling her about the men he murdered, and I’m not going to endanger her with those truths.

“Now,” she says, her decisive tone indicating that the matter has been dealt with and that we’re moving on. “Have you named that girl of yours?”

“Claire,” I say, clearing my throat to get rid of the lump that’s lodged there.

“That’s such a pretty name. I brought clothes for you and Claire as well as diapers and toiletries. I took your purse with your wallet. Your phone is charged and inside.”

I’m so grateful for this woman. “Thank you, Livy.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Did the doctor say when he’s discharging you?”

“Tomorrow.”

Her manner turns serious. “Dante told me about Saverio’s injuries. He’s going to need a lot of care going forward. Maybe it’s a good idea if I move in with you to help with Claire for a while, at least until both you and Saverio are back on your feet.”

“Oh, Livy.” I bite my trembling lip, forcing down tears of gratitude. “You’re always there for me when I need you.”

She smiles. “I see a lot of my younger self in you. I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I’ve lived long enough to have an inkling.” She gets to her feet, glancing at my untouched dinner. “Not hungry?”

“Not yet.” I doubt I’ll be able to stomach food.

“Do you want something from the cafeteria?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“In that case, I’ll let you get some rest. I can do with a few hours of sleep myself.” She crosses the floor and waves from the door. “See you later, kiddo. Call me if you need anything.”

With that, she’s gone.

It’s just like Livy to be eccentric when life is calm and following its course, adding spice to the mundaneness of an everyday routine, and when the world goes up in flames, she’s not dramatic or over-complicating issues.

My first priority is to call Tersia. I take the phone from my bag that Livy left on the nightstand and dial her number.

The phone rings for a long time before going onto voicemail. I leave a short message, asking her to call me when it’s convenient. Maybe she’s ignoring the call because she doesn’t want to speak to me. The thought physically hurts, but I won’t blame her if she never wants to see me again. My dishonesty merits her anger and judgement.

Next, I call the rehabilitation center. My mom and I haven’t been on speaking terms for a while, but the least I owe her is telling her that I’m alive. She has the right to know that she’s a grandmother. What she does with that information is up to her.

“Ms. Brennan,” the receptionist says when I’ve asked if she could put me through to my mom’s room.

“Actually, it’s Mrs. De Luca now,” I admit awkwardly. The sound of that is still strange.

“Mrs. De Luca.” She hesitates. “Bertrand was just about to call you.”

“He was?”

I guess he saw the news.

“Hold on,” she says before generic music plays in my ear.

A moment later, Bertrand’s voice comes over the line. “Anya.”

Something in his tone tightens my stomach. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m afraid I have bad news.”

I go into full-on panic mode. “What happened?”

“Your mother escaped.”