Page 59 of Poisoned Promise
“The car Alex stole was filled with a high-end experimental crystal drug. New to the market, or it was supposed to be. It was insanely expensive and while some would argue that it never should have been left in the car to begin with, it was in the trunk when Alex stole it.”
Her eyes widen. “What? How does that make any sense? What was such a low-down family doing with something that high-end?”
“How do you know they were so low down?”
“I did my research, remember? After that cop threatened me at the hospital. I might not have taken action but I needed to know why there was some brute sniffing around in the first place.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t give a shit what you believe.”
“I know you killed them.”
Dove raises the glass to her lips and drinks slowly.
“I know you killed them because I know you, Dove. You saw who they were, saw what kind of threats they were making and you knew they wouldn’t leave you alone. So you killed them to protect your son.”
“A great story,” Dove replies with a smack of her lips. “You should take up writing.”
“Caterina Salamone was sleeping with him. Tee. The man you killed.”
It’s subtle but a jolt of tension shifts through Dove until she’s sitting so still, it’s almost hard to tell that she’s even breathing.
“That’s why he had access to such high-end drugs. He was fucking her, keeping her happy and she was rewarding him by giving him early access to the new drugs coming in from the Cartel. That’s why the loss of that car was so serious. And that’s why there’s a city-wide manhunt for you and your son.”
Dove’s lips purse and she very slowly turns to face me. “Caterina?”
“Mhm. You remember her, don’t you?”
A shadow passes over Dove’s expression and a flash of something akin to pain, most likely from her injuries.
“She’s the Dona of New York. Of course I remember her.”
“Well, you killed her toy boy. And she’s got herself convinced that someone hired the Nightingale to kill them,” I snort softly. “In her eyes, her toy boy was untouchable.”
“The Nightingale?”
“Yeah. You remember that ghost story, the Mafia assassin? Untraceable and unkillable. At least that’s what everyone thought but between you and me, whoever was masquerading as the Nightingale is dead. They haven’t been active in over ten years and there’s no way they’d come out of the woodwork for someone like Tee. Not when I know it was you.” My eyes narrow. “But Caterina is a dog with a bone and is, as always, convinced someone is out to get her because she’s rich, powerful, and hated by every Don and Captain that doesn’t want to deal with a woman.”
“I…” For the first time in memory, Dove seems speechless. Her lips part and then close, then part once more but nothing comes out.
I’ve never seen her like this. Fifteen years doesn’t change how witty she was at the restaurant, or how the memory of her lips sends jolts of heat through me even now. That powerful, demanding woman sits across from me and yet she’s struggling.
Whether it be exhaustion or pain, something’s clearly eating away at her.
“It was just a car,” she murmurs eventually. “He was just being stupid and reckless. Acting out because he’s a teenage boy. It was just a car. All he did was steal a car. It happens all the time in New York. All the time. Every day. Even now. It was just a car…” Her lower lip wobbles until she curls it into her mouth. “How did we end up back in such a fucking mess?”
She’s trying to mask the distress in her voice, but it leaks through in soft pulses and her hand trembles as she lifts her glass to her lips and drains it.
“You can never truly leave, Dove,” I say softly. “You know that. This life… it doesn’t let you go. Even in death.”
“I just…” She glances at me briefly and for a moment, everything is stripped away.
The woman I love sits before me, utterly exhausted and downtrodden, exposed like a raw nerve and I want to reach out to her. I would if there was a chance I’d survive it.
She shakes her head. “I wanted to be different. Normal.”
“Normal doesn’t exist for people like us. It’s admirable that you tried, don’t get me wrong. Fifteen years is a long time, Dove. But you should have known better.”
