But other pieces perplexed me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make them fit, no matter how many times I flipped them and tried to push them together.
Even if Tobias had unlimited resources to right the damage to Roman’s house from the wreckage, there’s no way Roman wouldn’t notice. Clearly, he’d played his part in covering it up, which enraged me to no end. Was he that intent on keeping his nose deceptively clean? He had to have known something. Had to. Matteo said Roman’s car was parked in the garage.
But how?
Or was a similar car used to lure Miami in?
Either way, Roman must have known.
The day I left was the day I knew they hadn’t lied about Roman Horner and his filthy business dealings. It was all the proof I needed to believe the man was as corrupt as they had portrayed him to be. His hands were just as bloody as far as I was concerned, but I was done with him before that night. I’d already written him off.
But that day, sitting on top of that garage, fatigued and sick with worry, I pushed the mystery aside, eaten alive with grief and indecision all the while fighting the urge to drive back to North Carolina.
Time was cruel, and I spent it absently watching the gridlock on I-285 move at a snail’s pace. People were leaving their jobs and going home to eat dinner and watch TV. Normal people doing normal everyday things, and I couldn’t imagine going back to any semblance of normal with the taste of my ex-lover’s blood still lingering on my tongue.
When my phone finally rang, and I saw a familiar area code from a number I didn’t recognize, I couldn’t answer fast enough.
“Hello.”
I listened intently for several seconds as they passed, my chest filling with unimaginable dread at what news waited on the other end of the line.
“Hello, please, hello?”
Several seconds later, I heard the distinct open and close of a Zippo. That sound had a sob bursting from my lips. Sean.
It was the sound of ice rattling in a tumbler, one, two, three times, that had me sobbing hysterically behind the wheel. Two distinct sounds they knew I would easily recognize.
They’re okay.
They’re okay.
“Please. Please…talk to me.” When silence rang clear on the other end of the line, somehow, I just knew the damning quiet was because of Tobias. And words would never come.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please, somebody, talk to me. I’m sorry.” The silence lingered as I tried to search for words until a familiar voice finally spoke.
“Hey, Cecelia, sorry about that.”
“Layla, I, I, I,” I sobbed so hard I gagged, rolling down my window and inhaling deeply to try and calm myself.
“Oh, babe,” she sighed, “It’s just a move. You’ll be fine. We’re all fine here.”
We all were anything but.
“All of you?” I asked breathlessly.
“Yes, I swear to you, we’re good. And you will be too.” She continued a clearly rehearsed speech. “And we’re all going to miss you, but we’re glad you’re moving on. It’s a shame we’ll be so far away.”
“Layla—”
“Don’t get upset, honey. I’m sure you’ll make new friends wherever you land. You’re a tough girl. You’ll be on your feet in no time.”
“I can’t do this,” I cried into the line. “I c-c-can’t.”
“No choice, sweetie, you’re growing up, and you have school to finish and this great big life to live. We’ll all be on the sidelines, cheering you on. I’m so glad you left this shit town and are never coming back.”
“I can visit.” The question lingered as harsh whispers were exchanged in the background, but I couldn’t decipher them.
“No reason to, baby… My boys are leaving me today, and I don’t know how long they’ll be gone.”