A Love So Deadly (10 page)

I groan as I pull the lollipop from my mouth. “No way, Dad. I’m not interested.”

His eyes widen. “You haven’t even heard what I’ve got to say.”

“I don’t need to hear. The answer is no. The last time I let you talk me into one of your ‘opportunities’ I lost three hundred dollars.”

“You didn’t lose it, you invested it,” Chuck says. “And if Dan hadn’t given up two weeks in, we could have made the pyramid work. Those diet patches worked. I lost fifteen pounds without even switching to light beer.”

“Like I said, I’m not interested,” I repeat, the memory of how naïve I’d been, thinking handing money over to Chuck was a decent idea, making my cheeks heat with shame. “But thanks for coming by, and for bringing candy for the kids. That was nice.”

I circle around him, dropping my unfinished lollipop in the trash, no longer able to tolerate the syrupy sweet taste of it any more than I can tolerate my father. I can’t believe he’s trying to sell me on one of his dumb schemes
four days
after my boyfriend passed away. Chuck doesn’t know that there’s a chance Gabe isn’t dead. He thinks I’ve lost the only boy I ever loved. The note he sent over with Isaac made me think he understood how devastated I am, but apparently not.

Or maybe my dad figured I’d be over it by now. He was sleeping with two different women three days after his wife of sixteen years ran off with her AA sponsor. Maybe he thinks four days is plenty of time to mourn the loss of the love of your life.

“Hold on,” Chuck says, reaching out to snag my elbow as I start into the living room.

I stiffen beneath his touch and am about to jerk my arm away when he releases me, lifting his hands up on either side of his head in a gesture of surrender.

“Don’t be mad, Caity Did,” he says. “I know I haven’t been Father of the Year, but this is a real opportunity. I swear it to you. I just found out Great Aunt Sarah passed away a few months back. It took her attorneys some time to find me, but I got a letter yesterday. Turns out she left me
everything
.”

“Congratulations,” I say, feeling sorry for Great Aunt Sarah, whoever she is. She must not have known Chuck very well, or she would have realized she was better off flushing her worldly possessions down the toilet than giving them to a man who pours every dime he has into wrecking his liver.

“Congratulations to
you
,” Chuck says, beaming. “I know I said I’d sign over the house here in Giffney to you, for you and the kids, but what would you say to a cottage on a tropical island, instead? I can keep the house here, and you and the kids can start a brand new adventure in paradise.”

I let out a weary sigh, hoping I’m not going to have to hire a lawyer. I’m sure Gabe’s dad, who was representing me for free, isn’t going to be handling my custody case anymore. Whether Gabe’s mom is lying about his death or not, something strange is going on with the Alexanders, and Deborah made it clear on her front porch the other day that she hates me.

No matter what happens, my days of free representation are over. With Chuck being so cooperative, I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to find a new lawyer, but if he’s trying to con me before my boyfriend’s body is even in the ground, I was obviously mistaken.

“I say that sounds too good to be true,” I say, unable to keep the sarcastic note from my voice. “I’m not a dumb kid anymore, Dad. I want what you promised me, and I want the paperwork filed by the end of the week. If you won’t help me make that happen, we can keep the court date, and let the judge decide what’s best for the kids.”

“Now listen, Kit Cat, I—”

“I don’t want to listen,” I snap, temper flaring. “Someone I loved more than anything in the world is dead, Dad. Can’t you give me a break? Just for a few weeks?”

“I’m trying to give you a break. Please, just hear me out,” Dad says, the desperate, pleading expression on his face making me nauseous.

He’s pathetic. He is weak and broken and…rotten beneath the skin. There’s something twisted up and wrong at the core of Chuck. Maybe, if he’d found something he could love more than alcohol, he would have still been a decent father, but he never loved his kids the way children are meant to be loved. He would never allow himself to be inconvenienced for any of us, let alone die for us.

I would give my life for my brothers or Emmie in a heartbeat. I would die for them, and maybe, more importantly, I have lived a life that is far from the life of my dreams because of the love I feel for them. I want them to have it better than I did growing up, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to give them a stable childhood. I’m willing to lie, cheat, and steal; I’m willing to fight to my last breath, and waste precious money from the college fund Gabe helped me build to take my father to court, if that’s what it takes. I’m done letting Chuck roll over me and crush everything good I try to build.

“I’m going to give you five minutes,” I say in a hard voice. “And then I want you to leave. If you refuse, I’m calling the police.”

“All right, if that’s the way you want it,” Chuck says, the anger flashing in his eyes making him look more like the dad I’m used to, the one who is selfish to his last breath, and has no patience for people who refuse to give him what he wants. “I just thought you might be interested in a fresh start in a place where no one knows your dad’s a drunk, your mom ran off, or your big sister was such a whore she had no clue which of the losers she’d slept with knocked her up.”

“Hush,” I hiss, casting a glance across the counter toward the kitchen table, where the kids are finishing up their lollipops. No one looks over, but I know Ray and Sean heard what Dad said, and I know Ray, at least, knows what “whore” means.

Thankfully, nearly three-year-old Emmie is too little to have any idea what Chuck’s saying, and has no memory of her mother. My big sister, Aoife, left when Emmie was barely two months old, and hasn’t sent so much as a Christmas card for her daughter since. For all intents and purposes, Emmie is my daughter, though she calls me Caitlin, like the rest of the kids.

I’ve done everything I can to shield Emmie from the negative parts of our family’s history, but she will hear the gossip eventually. One day, she’ll learn that she’s “Easy Ee-fuh” Cooney’s little girl. Maybe it will happen in elementary school, or maybe, if she’s lucky, she’ll stay under the bully radar until middle school. But there will come a day when Emmie will learn that her mom was a drug addict who spread her legs for anyone who promised her the escape she craved. She’ll hear the nasty whispers around town, and probably end up being called a slut long before she has her first kiss, the way I was, simply because she’s a Cooney and the latest in a long line of trash the people in this town expect only the worst from.

I would love to spare Emmie that pain and shame. I would love to give the boys a chance to grow up without the local police watching them like hawks, waiting for them to screw up, like their dad and granddad before them, but I know better than to trust Chuck. No matter how bright a picture he paints, there is always a dark, rancid lining to his shiny silver clouds.

Still, I promised him five minutes, and I do my best to keep my promises, unlike the man who raised me. “Fine, talk,” I say, crossing my arms at my chest. “I’m listening.”

I take the paperwork my father hands over, and give the pictures of the home he inherited from Great Aunt Sarah a cursory glance. The four-bedroom cottage in the tiny village of Haiku, on the island of Maui, is adorable. It has three bedrooms downstairs, and a large loft area overlooking the combination kitchen-and-living-room. It’s situated on a two-acre parcel on a hill overlooking the ocean, and its lush, green yard is dotted with mango, orange, and avocado trees the real estate description promises are very productive.

It is beautiful, the perfect size for our family, and allegedly valued at over six-hundred thousand dollars.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
Caitlin

I jab my finger at the number, running my nail beneath the digits to make sure I’m reading them correctly.

“This is worth six-hundred thousand dollars, Dad,” I say, glancing up at him, expecting him to snatch the paper away and make a run for the back door.

He had to have missed the number. If not, he would have listed the house and pocketed the money. He would never give me a half a million dollar home in exchange for our house in Giffney, a house that probably wouldn’t fetch more than one hundred and twenty thousand, even if I put on the new roof the repair guy insists is way overdue.

“I know.” An impish smile crosses Chuck’s face. “You kids will be living like movie stars. And there’s a cottage at the back of the property, too. They call it an Ohana. The agent says it rents for eighteen hundred a month, which should cover a good chunk of your expenses. You’ll be able to go back to working one job, Kit Cat, and have time for school. They’ve got a college on the island. It’s supposed to be nice.”

My eyes narrow as I search his face, looking for a fly in the ointment. “Why?”

“Why what?” Chuck asks, still grinning.

“Why would you give this to me? You could sell it and have more money than you’ve made in your entire life.”

“I could,” Chuck says, his expression sobering. “But we both know what I’d do with that much money. I can’t be trusted with my monthly check. If I had more, I’d drink myself to death in a year. Maybe less.”

My brows float higher on my forehead. Chuck has never talked to me like this before. He’s never been honest about what a problem the drinking is. He’s always said he has an Irish liver, or that the Cooneys can handle their booze better than anyone—like we’re the superheroes of alcohol consumption—or he points out that his own father was drunk pretty much constantly from the age of fourteen, and lived to the ripe old age of seventy-eight. To hear him copping to the fact that the only thing keeping him from drinking himself to death is a shortage of funds is surprising to say the least.

“And I like the idea of you kids living big because of me,” Chuck says. “I never thought I’d be able to give you something like this, but now I can. It feels good. I want to put you all on a plane and wave good-bye, knowing you’re going to a better life.”

I study his face for a long moment, but he doesn’t flinch or look away. He meets my eyes and holds my gaze.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was a man who had nothing to hide, but I do know better. And so I look harder, past the sentimental expression, behind the soft blue eyes, down to the heart of my father, where there is nothing but Chuck looking out for Chuck, nothing but an overgrown child wailing and bargaining and snatching for the things he wants with his chubby hands.

Finally, I see it, that seed of self-interest, that tiny spark of gleeful satisfaction that Chuck gets when he’s pulling one over on some unsuspecting soul.

He’s up to something. I’d bet my college fund on it. I don’t know what it is, but I’m not going to fall for this Repentant Father act, and I’m not getting on a plane to anywhere unless it’s going to carry me closer to Gabe.

“That’s sweet, Dad. I appreciate the offer,” I say with my own saccharine smile, lies coming easier to me now than they did at the start of the summer. “Can I think about it for a while? It’s been a hard few days.”

“Of course it has, and it’s a big change,” Chuck says, nodding a little too fast. “But don’t take too long. Aunt Sarah has her lawyers all paid up. They’ll take care of everything if I tell them what to do in the next week or so. Otherwise, we’ll have to pay someone else, and I don’t have cash to spare.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know by next week,” I say, knowing it’s the quickest way to get rid of him. By next week, I’m hoping to be so busy taking care of Gabe I won’t have time for Chuck’s crap, but he doesn’t need to know that. Not right now, anyway.

“Perfect.” Chuck smiles a smile that is too bright for a man hoping to give away a six hundred thousand dollar home and pulls me in for a hug.

I go into his arms, forcing myself to soften against him, but when I lay my cheek against his chest all I feel is cold inside. Chuck’s making a mistake if he thinks he can play me the way he has in the past. The sweet, gullible Caitlin, who secretly craved her father’s love, is dead. She died that night in Pitt’s attic, when I locked my fingers around his throat and leaned all my weight forward, blocking off the air to his lungs, strangling the life out of the man who had kidnapped me. I’m someone different now, someone who watches the world with a calculated gaze, and who isn’t afraid to play dirty to protect what is mine.

The kids are mine, and I won’t let Chuck put their welfare in danger. They are mine the way Gabe is mine because I love them all with every cell in my body.

Gabe is imbedded in my heart, so much a part of me I swear I can still feel his soul whispering beneath my skin. I won’t let his parents keep us apart. If he’s still alive, I’m going to find him, and do whatever it takes to bring him back to me.

Gabe is alive, and I have to find him.

That’s all I can think about now. There’s no room for anything else, especially not my father’s latest manipulations. I finish hugging Chuck good-bye and shoo him out the front door as quickly as possible, fifteen minutes with my father already more than I can tolerate.

As soon as Chuck disappears down the concrete steps, Ray pipes up from the kitchen table.

“You don’t believe him, do you, Caitlin?” he asks, proving he was eavesdropping. “All of that sounds way too good to be true.”