Page 64 of Dirty Deadly & Mine
My phone chimes with a text message, and I open it to see it’s from Barrett.
BARRETT: Pick up the call so I can explain.
So he can make an excuse, he means.
How could he?
LILY: Give me what you have on the MacKenzie brothers, and then we are done.
BARRETT: Lily, don’t be like that. Let me explain.
LILY: No need. For a moment I forgot you’re a Marx. That’s on me.
BARRETT: You’re a Marx too. Don’t forget that.
LILY: The difference is, I’ve chosen not to be. I chose a better life. Give me the information.
BARRETT: Pick up the call, and I will.
LILY: No. Send it via encrypted email. Don’t contact me again!
BARRETT: I’ll send the email soon, but don’t think for a fucking moment we are done.
I don’t respond to his message. I can’t. I feel so betrayed. I feel like a fool.
Why did I think I could trust my cousin?
I’ve been doing that for over twenty years, and now I have to wonder how many times one of my brothers or his were sitting away from the camera or in the same room, hearing everything on our voice call.
Has he done that with my dad? With his?
A shiver ripples up my spine at the thought, and I shut down my iPad, not wanting to hear him try to video call on it again.
Glancing around my empty house, I feel nothing but cold loneliness.
I miss my sons. I miss Asher.
My God, how can I miss Asher? What the hell am I thinking?
Am I only into him because I’m lonely?
“Shit,” I groan, swiping the tears from my cheeks and standing from the stool.
I need to get out of my head.
Killing helps, but I don’t have a current job, and finding a random person to murder is too risky.
Deciding the best thing to do is exhausting myself, I get changed and do a two-hour workout, some of it sprinting on the treadmill until I can’t breathe, and the rest in the backyard, practicing some of my combat skills.
I forgo dinner and head to the shower, needing to feel the scalding water on my skin, like I’m trying to punish myself.
Maybe I am… for being too trustworthy.
Barrett is a Marx. I should never have thought he was anything but.
The steam from my shower fogs up the mirror instantly, and I step under the spray, letting go again and crying under the stream.
No one really prepares you for what life will be like once your kids are grown and no longer need you. Even if I was still married to Alex and we were somewhat happy, I still think I’d feel this cold loneliness down to my bones, regardless.
