Italian?
The urge to call Holly a liar rises like vomit, and I clench my teeth in order to prevent it. Seeing Evie talking so casually to Holly almost had me dragging her out of here for fear that Holly was somehow a danger. I’m still a little stunned that Evie has managed to get her talking, and it’s lucky that Cian was a bit more level-headed about this than me.
“Italian?” Evie asks. “Are you sure?”
“Hundred percent,” Holly says bitterly as she lights up another cigarette. “Fucker’s as Italian as they come.”
“You know him well?” Evie presses gently.
I grip the back of her chair, biting my own tongue to remain quiet. There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to demand, but I know one word from me will cause Holly to clam up.
“Too well,” Holly mutters. “He was a client, and then we used to date for a while, but he couldn’t shake the jealousy of my work. Although I was always pretty clear about my reasoning for this work.”
“Money?” Evie asks.
Holly snaps her tongue. “Got it in one. And a pimp whose name is on everything I own so I have nothing and no one. So yeah, Noah and I dated for a little while, but I broke it off with him six months ago.”
Behind me, Cian darts out of the room with the information. I stare hard at Holly, trying to find a lie in her words. Could this be a Russian trick to shove blame onto the Italians? Or have I been looking at the wrong family this entire time?
“I’m so sorry.” Evie reaches for Holly’s hand. “I can’t imagine what that must be like, living like that. Is there anything we can do for you?”
Evie offers help like it’s hers to give, but I find myself following her lead. Her way is working and at this point, I will give Holly anything just for the truth.
“Ironic,” Holly murmurs around her cigarette. “Brenden said the exact same thing.”
“What?” I can’t keep quiet this time, as much as I kick myself for speaking. “What do you mean?”
Holly flicks her cigarette. “I met Brenden not long after I broke up with Noah. It was a complete accident, but we met at a cafe near that motel and he took my coffee. We argued, sort of, until he drank it to prove me right and his black coffee was my vanilla latte.” Holly smiles wistfully “He was quite the dramatic actor. Anyway, I won’t bore you with all the details.”
“You loved him,” Evie says suddenly, and my heart stalls in my chest.
Holly nods and she gives a sad smile. “I did. We started dating not long after that, and we—”
“Liar,” I bark out, moving past Evie to the edge of the table. “Don’t you dare say something like that!” If Brenden was dating someone, I would know about it. We shared everything. He was my confidant and I was his, and if he had found love, I would have known.
“You think?” Holly moves to put her hand in her bra, drawing the attention of every gunman in the room. She pauses, raising her other hand palm upward, then rummages in her bra. She withdraws something and opens her hand. On her palm sits a gold lighter, and the sight of it makes my heart drop down to the dark pit in my stomach.
Brenden’s lighter.
I know it because it’s the exact same as my lighter. “Why do you have that?” I ask thickly.
“Brenden gave it to me. He told me it was to prove he loved me,” Holly replies. “I told him not to be such a sap and so he told me it would be a symbol of my safety.” When she blinks, her eyes shimmer and she shakes her head. “What a fool he was.”
“Safety?” Evie prompts. “What do you mean?”
Holly sniffles and returns to her cigarette while my mind reels from the revelation. These lighters are precious to us and they would never leave us. But to an outsider, they look normal and if Holly had stolen it, there’s no way she’d know the importance of it. But since she does, Brenden must have told her.
She’s telling the truth.
“Brenden was sweet. He didn’t shy away from my work and recognized how badly I wanted out of it, so he was helping me get out of a life filled with sex work. He was helping me pay off debts, had worked out a deal with my pimp and everything. Then he went and got himself killed.” She shakes her head. “I should have known he was too good to be true.”
“What about Noah?” Evie presses, tapping the picture. “How does he fit into this?”
“Noah was jealous when he learned I’d moved on,” Holly explains. “But then suddenly, it didn’t matter because when he met Brenden, he was pissed for other reasons.”
“What reasons?” I demand sharply.
Holly rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. They were butting heads over some old deal that apparently screwed Noah over. They argued about it a few times. And…” She looks from me to Evie. “The night Brenden died, he… he was supposed to be with me. He was there for a while, but then he left because he said he needed to talk about business with Noah. He said he was sorting things for good this time and then he’d come back and we’d be together.”
Holly’s voice changes suddenly, and the same pain that exists in my chest suddenly pours from her as she starts to cry properly.
“But he never came back,” she weeps brokenly. “I waited at the cafe for hours and he never showed. I called him and got nothing and then the next day, I found out he was dead. My future just vanished.”
Evie rises from her seat and moves around the table, hugging Holly tightly. She flashes me a distressed look, but I’m too distracted to focus on her right now. I sent a quick text to Cian and Saoirse. This Noah just became the last person to see Brenden alive, which makes him public enemy number one. With only a first name, it’ll be hard to track him down, but now we can stop wasting time with the Russians.
Holly provided a lot of info, but frustration still simmers underneath my skin. Every step closer feels too small, like there’s something wrapped around me, constantly pulling me back no matter how close I get to the truth. A change in target doesn’t make much of a difference if I still don’t have that fucker’s throat in my hands. As Evie comforts Holly, I stride away to gain some breathing space.
Brenden was in love. So in love that he gifted Holly his lighter. He was doing everything he could to help her until he butted heads with Noah. But what deal was he talking about? We’ve been at peace with the Italians for years and to my knowledge, there hasn’t been any shift that would require fresh deals to be made. I send a text to Ma just to check there isn’t anything I’m missing, then I head out of the warehouse.
The cool night air is refreshing. I hadn’t realized how much my skin was burning inside until the cold breeze kissed my neck and forehead. Several deep breaths later and the tightness across my chest eases. I take another deep breath and hold it as I gaze up at the stars.
Noah.
Wherever the fuck he is, his days are numbered.
“Cormac?” Evie appears beside me, keeping some distance. “Are you alright?”
“No,” I say shortly, puffing out my cheeks. Then I catch myself. “Sorry. It’s a lot.”
“I can imagine,” she says softly. “Did you know that your brother was…?”
“In love?” I glance at her. “No.”
“He never said anything?”
“No.”
“Okay.” She nods quickly. “That lighter is the same as yours.”
“Yeah.”
“So you think she’s telling the truth?”
“Maybe.”
Evie grunts softly. I can tell she’s trying to reach me, but right now, everything feels far too heavy. I need to process before something inside me snaps. Suddenly, Evie’s hand slides into mine and despite her warmth, a strange cooling sensation washes over my shoulders. The tension in my chest eases like the pull of gum, and my next breath is easier.
“I’m sorry there wasn’t an easy answer,” she says carefully. “I can’t imagine what this feels like.”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” I reply. “The truth changes nothing about Brenden. I know this. But I want to hurt someone. I want to look in the eyes of his killer and make them regret everything.”
“I know,” she whispers. “A name is good, right?”
“It’s a start.”
“What will happen to Holly?”
“Well…” I glance back at the warehouse. “If she’s telling the truth and Noah exists, then I will honor Brenden’s attempts to save her. Whatever deal he made with her pimp, I’ll secure it. He clearly loved her, and I will take care of her.”
“That’s a good thing to do.” Evie smiles.
Before I can reply, a screech of tires pulls my attention toward the parking lot where Cian’s car has just returned. He flies out of the driver’s seat and sprints up to us, panting harshly.
“Easy, little brother. What’s wrong?”
He holds up his phone, displaying a message. “The Italian Don. He’s pissed. As soon as Saoirse started asking about Noah, he took personal offense and demanded proof of Italian involvement. So of course, she gave him the CCTV and he says it’s too blurry. He wants watertight proof that Italian blood is involved or he’s taking the accusation as a personal insult.”
“What the fuck? He said he would help us,” I snap. “This isn’t fucking helping.”
“Nah,” Cian pants. “But it screams guilty.”
“That it does. Did you tell him we have proof?”
Cian glances at Evie. “I did. And he wants to see it.”
“But he can’t,” Evie says, her grip locking onto my hand. “I can’t prove what I saw.”
“No,” Cian agrees. “But you can prove it’s Noah you saw. Picking him out of a lineup should be easy, right?”
My heart jumps back into my throat. Evelyn’s eyewitness account of that argument is the best we have outside of the police sketch.
“What if I say no? What if I don’t want Evie anywhere near the Italians?”
Cian looks at me and winces. “I don’t think we have a choice,” he replies. “Without her, these accusations are against the Don and he’s made it pretty fucking clear he’s taking it as a personal insult. If Evelyn refuses, that puts us at war with the Italians. And that’s not a war I think we can win.”
