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“Dad changed after that. You’d think he’d stop conning people, that he’d decide to take up a legal job. Set his son straight. Set me straight. Make sure Mom’s fate wouldn’t befall us.” He opens his mouth to speak, and I rush to finish, before I lose my nerve. “He changed for the worse. He started drinking and gambling what little money we had. And then he had to get loans to pay of his debts, and the idiot got involved with the mafia.”
His eyes narrow. His nostrils flare. “The Mob?”
Does it matter which one? “Triad.”
“Chinese mafia. Which group?”
“Black Dragons.”
“Motherfucker.” His hand tightens in my hair, and I wince. Immediately he lets go and strokes his hand down my face. “So he owes them money?”
“A lot.” I nod. “He owes them a couple million, and they think I have the money. They think I’ve stashed it somewhere. And I don’t have anything.”
His hand falls away. Shadows pass behind his eyes, darkening them. “Shit.”
Yeah. Exactly. “These are dangerous guys. And they’re after me.”
He gathers me closer, puts both arms around me. But we both know what comes next. I wait for it, but he’s silent, resting his chin on top of my head.
“Now you see,” I whisper.
“See what?”
Fresh years well up in my eyes. “Why I should leave.”
“Goddammit, Ray. I said I’d fight for you. And I will.”
I’m too shocked to speak. Is he for real?
“We’ll find a way out of this,” he goes on fiercely, and yeah, his heart beats strong. No lies. He believes it. “Together. Fuck the world and its unfairness. I won’t let these thugs hurt you.”
Finding such money would be impossible, so… “You’ll run away with me?” I whisper, incredulous.
“If that’s what it takes,” he says, softly this time, and I lie in stunned silence, waiting for his words to sink in.
Even if the rest of my life remains the same—fraud with danger and always on the run—at least I have this.
And it means the world to me.
***
Later, we go down to the kitchen, and he toasts the defrosted baguettes in the oven while I cut up the cheese and ham. We keep our conversation to the weather. Another storm is approaching, the wind banging at the windows and stirring the ocean. A safe topic.
We haven’t spoken a single word about my revelations in the bedroom upstairs and his response. Maybe he’s already changed his mind. Maybe he just realized the danger.
I wouldn’t blame him. And I don’t know what else to do. Telling him the truth was as far as my plan went. Now it’s up to him to throw me out or not.
I watch him pull out the toasted baguettes from the oven with a pair of mitts. I just can’t… This is surreal.
Hey, Storm, I have paid hitmen from the Chinese mafia after me. I owe them a few million dollars.
Excellent. Now let’s make some sandwiches, drink coffee and talk about the weather.
Holy crap, this is screwing with my head. Dropping the knife on the table, I shoot up from my chair and head out.
“Ray!” I hear dishes clattering and a curse, then he’s right behind me as I open the door. “You okay?”
I push the door and step outside, coming to stand by the pool. I’m shaking. I don’t know what to do with myself. I thought I knew what to do next. What I should do. I had my plan, but I don’t want to go.
