A Girl by Any Other Name (61 page)

Eddie Junior, and his uncle who came personally. Eddie was our age.”

“You mean that son of a bitch who shot you was only sixteen?”

“He didn’t shoot me. His uncle did. Eddie shot you.”

It occurred to me that my perspective on the events was somewhat cloudy since I had suffered a

concussion and bullet hole to the leg that night. “Are you still in danger?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“I don’t fear the Vincetti family per se. My father testified against Edward Vincetti and his

meticulous records sent the man to jail for a long time along with most of the key people in his

organization. He died in prison of a heart attack. The Mob isn’t what it used to be, Cal. Most of the

family is either in jail, dead or powerless. Besides the vendetta would have been against my father

and they took care of him. There is no reason for them to seek revenge against me.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Eddie’s uncle was found dead a few months later. Forensics suggests he was killed that night.”

I gawked at her. How had I not known this? “I thought they were never found.”

“The Feds made up that story to avoid questions. It was all covered up. Eddie killed him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I think because he shot me.” She stared at me, and took my hand again. “Eddie and I used to

play together. I guess we were friends. My father liked that because it helped him move up the ranks

of the organization. He was never a normal kid, though. He used to do strange things. Anyway, he’s

still out there so I’m not really sure.”

“Tell me what he did to you.”

“It’s not important.”

“It is to me. He bit you, didn’t he? You had a bite mark the day I met you, and one the day…” I

put my head down, unable to say the words.

“The day I died,” she finished for me. “Yes, he started biting me. He liked to draw blood. He

said we were playing vampires and it was normal. There were other things too.”

“Like what?”

“I think he killed my cat, Snowball.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any proof, but he was always so rough with her, and then I found her behind

my house one day. Her skull was crushed.” Her voice cracked. I put my arm around her, hoping she

wouldn’t push me away again. She didn’t. She rested her head against my chest. “We were kids and

it’s hard to remember everything, but I was always so scared of him. He told me to never tell my

parents or his dad would kill my dad. At the time, I though he meant fire him from his job, but I think

he actually meant it literally. So I never told. I buried my cat in a shoebox in the backyard. My parents

assumed she ran away.”

“He’s psychotic.”

“I think he was, which explains why he came himself to finish the job. They would never have

sent him.”

“He wanted to take you. I remember him talking about it and then he whispered in your ear. Do

you remember what he said?”

She breathed in deeply. “He said he’d be back for me.”

My fists clenched and I had a sudden desire to pummel them into the nearest wall, but the last

thing I wanted to do was scare her even more.

“He’s not getting anywhere near you. If I had known, I would have always carried my Remington

with me, and I never would have let you out of my sight.”

She shook her head, and laughed cynically. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Tex. I was

already putting you in danger. Not just you, but your family. When your father died I was so worried

that it had something to do with my family’s past.” I straightened up immediately, but she calmed me

instantly by resting her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry, I had the US Marshal assigned to our case

verify it was random. It felt like a wakeup call, though, and I never wanted to be the reason for your

pain, so I tried to distance myself, but I couldn’t. Instead, I figured I could be there for you as a friend,

but in a secret way.”

“That’s why you never went out with me?”

“Partially, but also because you were the most popular boy at school, and we were instructed to

keep a low profile. I didn’t think dating you would be wise.”

“Damn, girl, you know how rejected I felt?”

“Yes, I had an idea. Trust me, it was harder on me.”

“How would it be harder on you?”

She turned and stared at me. “Funny, I thought we had this connection. How could it not be, Cal?

I wanted nothing more than to let all those girls who constantly vied for your attention know that you

were mine, but I cared for you so much that I was willing to let you go.”

“I wouldn’t have chosen that…ever. I would have given my life for you.”

She caressed my hand, and brought it up to her lips, kissing it. “I know. That’s why I chose for

you.”

“Were you packing that night I came to talk to you?”

“Yes, we were leaving.”

“You weren’t going to tell me? You were just going to up and leave me?”

“Only because I didn’t think you’d let me go and I was avoiding that conversation. I didn’t want

you to hate me like my dad.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled her onto my lap. I embraced her, feeling her beating heart

against mine. “I would never hate you. How could you even think that?”

“I didn’t think my father would ever hate me either.”

I tilted her chin toward me. “Tell me why he did, because you never explained that.”

“That was Eddie too. You see, my father was okay with being in the Mob in the end. He figured

he made a good life for us and he didn’t directly do anything immoral. He wasn’t really doing the bad

stuff. It was my mother who noticed the bites. I finally came clean and she insisted my father confront

Edward Vincetti.”

“Did he?”

“He tried, but it wasn’t so easy. Not only was Vincetti my father’s boss, he was also a Mob

boss. It’s a difficult conversation to tell someone in that position that his son is a psychopath. Edward

Senior made excuses for Eddie, saying it was just kids playing rough, and my parents were taking it

too seriously.”

“So, what happened?”

“Eddie kept wanting us to play. My mother always said no, but he was sneaky. He’d find ways

to get me alone. It was almost like he was infatuated with me or something. Finally, my mother told

my father he had to quit his job. That’s when he came clean and told her what he did for a living. I

was listening from that secret spot under the floorboards, spying on them. My mother threatened to

leave him and take me if he didn’t get out. It complicated everything. It’s not exactly the kind of job

where you can give your two-week notice. She gave him an ultimatum, insisting he get out of the

business or we’d leave. That’s when he started gathering evidence, and he eventually went to the

Feds.”

Surely, this couldn’t be the truth, but as outlandish as it was—Mob bosses, psychotic children,

witness protection—it all resonated as the truth. It seemed like a work of great fiction, but I knew

Sylvie was baring her soul to me. She started crying again and I pulled her toward me. She swung her

legs around me and hugged me, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m sorry, I’ve never told anyone all

of it.”

“I can’t believe you went through all this…alone.”

“I didn’t feel alone. Not while I was with you.”

“You never even went to therapy?”

“No, I’m not really supposed to divulge the details to anyone, but talking about it actually feels

good. I can see why therapy is helpful.” I couldn’t imagine what it was like for her, being alone in all

these secrets for so many years. I chastised myself for being such an idiot and not figuring it out. I’d

known she was harboring something, but I had never imagined this.

“Therapy can be helpful.”

She braced her hands against my chest and looked at me. “Are you speaking from experience?”

“I’ve had my fill of it. It didn’t always help me very much, though, since no one believed what I

was trying to say.”

“I’m so sorry I put you through that.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Sylvie. I understand why you did what you did. I just wish

you had given me some choices in these decisions you made.”

“You were sixteen, Cal, and I knew how protective you were of me. I knew you’d only get

yourself hurt. In fact, you did and that’s my fault too.”

I tilted her chin up. “You didn’t do that to me.”

She swallowed. “Let’s not kid ourselves. We both know what an amazing quarterback you were.

You’d be playing for the Cowboys right now if you hadn’t followed me to my house. Hell, if you’d

never met me you would have been better off.”

I brought my face close to hers. Our lips were almost touching, but not quite. I felt the warmth of

her sweet breath against me. “Don’t ever say that again. Sylvie, you didn’t shoot me. None of that is

your fault and I have never once been angry with you about it. You made me a better man. You gave

me a reason to pray, and not just think of myself anymore. You helped me through my worst days and

made my best days even brighter. I don’t ever want you to think any differently. Don’t cheapen what

we had with guilt, okay?”

She exhaled deeply. “I feel the same way, Tex, but you have to do the same. You couldn’t have

done anything differently that night. I don’t think anyone else would have done all that you did for me

and not just that night either.” She hugged me. “Does it still hurt?”

“No,” I answered quickly.

“Be honest with me,” she whispered, running her fingers through my hair.

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “What about you?”

“No, I had to have a few surgeries and physical therapy, but I have full mobility now. I think, in

some ways, I got the better end of the deal that night.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. You didn’t have anyone there to help you through it. You lost your

father. I imagined you waking up alone and scared.” I smiled at her, rubbing her back. “You know, I

never cried for you, at least not on the outside. I figured if I cried, it meant I was accepting your death.

I was so lonely and lost, but I knew whatever I was feeling had to be ten times worse for you, and I

had to be strong so I could find you again.”

She lifted her head, staring into my eyes. “Not for me, Tex. You never have to be strong for me.”

It was then that I cried. I tried to do the muffled, stifled man cry and swallow it back, but I

couldn’t. It was almost ten years’ worth of pent-up sorrow aching to get out. She held me, wrapping

her arms around me. “I missed you so much,” I choked.

“Me too,” she whimpered. We sat like that for a long time, locked in each other’s arms, weeping

for the lost and lonely paths we’d walked…alone.

When I had exhausted my tear ducts, I gently pressed my hand against her ribs. The same spot I

had placed my palm on that night. “May I?”

She knew what I wanted and she nodded in response. I lifted the fabric from her waist. A

discolored, white scar lay across that area, marring her otherwise perfectly smooth flesh. I rubbed my

finger against it, tracing its path. There was nothing sexual about it. I only did it because we were

connected, and her pain was mine to bear.

“You can’t expect me not to feel guilty if you do.” Despite the distance and time, she still knew

me so well.

“It’s not just about this. I wasn’t there for you after. Where did you go, sweetheart? Who took

care of you when I wasn’t there?”

“I went to live with a foster family in North Dakota. My foster dad was a local police officer

and he knew who I was, so I felt safe. They were very nice people. When I turned eighteen, though, I

decided to leave. I didn’t want to endanger them either. I enrolled in college at UCLA. My father had

some money saved, plus witness protection gave me money too.” I put her shirt down. I traced her

lips with my finger. “You were always the most beautiful girl, Sylvie. I always wondered why you

hid that from people, but I felt special because I saw it so clearly.” She parted her mouth, sucking on

the tip of my finger. She reached for the hem of her top, readying to remove it, but something she’d

said really bothered me. She had left everyone she cared for in order to protect them.

“I still have a few questions.”

She gave me a pleading look, but I wanted—no, I
needed
—to get this all out now that we had

started.

She sighed and moved away from me, sitting on the other end of the couch. She held up her

empty wine glass, and I chuckled as I refilled it. “What else can I possibly tell you?”

“Do you think I don’t want to make love to you?”

“Make love?” she said, changing her annoyed expression to one of amusement.

“Okay, have intercourse, fuck you, sex you up, play snake in the jungle. Jesus, girl, your mouth

tastes so fucking incredible that my whole body is hard for you, but I need a few minutes and a few

more answers.”

She pouted.

“What’s going on with you? You were never this sexual when we were in high school.”

“I was restrained with you because I had to be. I’m restraining myself right now in fact.”

I smiled, pouring myself some wine. “I assume it’s no coincidence that you were in my class.”

She gave me a coy smile. “No, I’ve been following you.” I stared at her in shock, but she shook