Jack warned you … ?
How had he known my uncle’s name? I had never mentioned it to him — I knew I hadn’t.
I started to remember other things then, things that were only just beginning to make sense: Luca’s strange questions in the diner the first time we met; Dom’s interest in Millie’s place of work, and how he’d dumped her once he’d gotten information about me; how Nic had been lingering around the diner that night we broke in, his car parked far away in the shadows, as if he was waiting for something or someone.
Suddenly I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that this certain something or someone was the very person who had been avoiding Cedar Hill since the Falcones first arrived — my uncle Jack.
That’s when I realized there was more to the Falcone-Gracewell story than I’d thought. And that while Nic may have had feelings for me, they certainly weren’t interfering with his ability to lie, and lie hard, to my face.
The initial aftermath of my nighttime good-bye to Nic was harder than I thought it would be. The things he said had turned my world upside down and made me question everything I thought I knew about my family, and my heart. Every so often, sneaky memories of his dark eyes, the way his tousled hair fell, or how sometimes his smile tugged more to one side would creep into my consciousness and twist the knife deeper into my gut until it felt almost like a real pain threatening to split me in half.
I tried to ignore the unpleasant flickers as much as possible by doubling up on shifts at the diner, coming in early and staying late to cash out. A small part of me hoped Nic might come in, but I knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t. I made sure to take the longer route home after work so I wouldn’t have to pass the Priestly — or Falcone — house and risk the horrible sinking feeling I had come to associate it with.
Things with my uncle had gone from strange to entirely bizarre. He was completely AWOL. I kept trying his new number, but he never answered. I texted him constantly, but he replied only once, and when he did, it was with two irritating words — I’m fine. More lies.
There was something wrong with him, I could feel it, but I still couldn’t pinpoint it. He knew I had questions for him and he had no intention of answering them, through text or otherwise. Now, not only was he avoiding Cedar Hill, he was avoiding me, too, and it was making me increasingly anxious. I was beginning to feel like I was screaming into a void and there was no one around to hear me.
“So you really haven’t heard anything from him?” Millie asked as we made our way through the stone archway at the entrance to Rayfield Park. It was outdoor movie night, and she had convinced me to go with her. She wanted me to at least try and put everything out of my mind for a few hours, before I went insane with worry. “That’s really unlike Jack.”
“I know.” Jack had made a promise to my father that he would always look after me, and the fact that he wasn’t responding to my attempts to contact him was not a good sign. “Something must be really wrong if he’s avoiding his whole life,” I said.
We followed one of the winding stone pathways that looped around an expanse of open greenery bordered by puffed-out chestnut trees. Ahead of us, a group of pimply teenagers were carrying an array of blankets, picnic baskets, and fold-up chairs. “What if he’s actually just run away with all the diner money?” asked Millie.
“What money?”
We both laughed.
It felt good to unwind with Millie after everything. Even though she knew what my father did to Nic’s father, I tried not to feel guilty about neglecting to tell her certain details — Mafia details — about the situation. I had made a promise to Nic, and I didn’t want to be someone who didn’t keep promises. Plus, having Millie in the dark was better for her anyway; I didn’t want to risk putting her in danger, especially after Luca’s threat.
Millie tapped her chin. “Well, your uncle must get the money for those fancy suits from somewhere.”
“Trust me. I’ve seen the books. It’s not from the diner.”
“Dammit,” Millie lamented. “And I was still holding out for that pay raise.”
We slipped in behind a throng of people who were following a connecting pathway that led to the park’s central square. Up ahead, Erin Reyes and three of her vapid clones were flirting loudly with a bunch of guys from school. She caught my eye and smirked before flipping her hair in her customary I’m-so-much-better-than-you way. Her giggling intensified.
“That has to be a fake laugh.”
“Then it matches her nose,” said Millie, before dragging me away. She trailed her hand along the bark of a nearby oak tree as we walked.
“Trying to reconnect with nature?” I teased.
She nudged me and I teetered off the path, into the mud that lined it. “Hey!”
“Just trying to get your mind off everything.”
“You’re a real gem.”
“Thank you, Sophie,” Millie said, giving me a ridiculous curtsy.
Finally, we entered the square: generous patches of grass divided by crisscrossing stone paths and bordered on all sides by towering trees. At the north end, a huge screen had been erected.
“They have a taco truck this year!” Millie squealed, dragging me by one of the belt loops on my denim cutoffs. “Let’s sit somewhere around here.”
Scores of people were already relaxing on chairs and blankets in front of the giant screen. Families had come out with their children, who were running around with careless abandon, while others were arriving as couples sewn together at the hips and hands and elbows, carrying everything from cushions and picnic baskets to cans of beer and bottles of wine.