Sparrow Page 44

Lucy and Daisy waited for me on our usual bench, sharing a box of donuts and coffee. Lucy, a plump, pretty chick with curly blonde hair and freckles like mine, cradled the donut box as protectively as a newborn baby. Daisy was holding our foam cups. Daisy used to work in a strip club not too long ago. Men dug her raven black hair, shapely legs and impressive bust. She reminded me a little of Catalina. A less bitchy version of her, anyway.

Lucy and Daisy got along like the Starks and the Lannisters, meaning they were at each other’s throats every time I wasn’t looking, but they kept things civilized for my sake. Each of us had her own reason for being lonesome and together. We were all outcasts, but at least we had each other.

The minute my friends spotted me, they got up from the bench and threw their arms over my shoulders. Daisy placed a cup of hot chocolate in my hand. I was always the only one not to drink coffee.

Lucy tucked the donut box under her arm and brushed a few strands of red hair off of my forehead, inspecting my face. “Are you okay?”

My cheeks heated, and I hid the lower part of my face behind the foam cup. I’d taken off my engagement ring and wedding band minutes before I got out of Connor’s car, but somehow still felt them on my finger. Guilt gnawed at my gut, but I tried not to squirm.

When I didn’t answer, Lucy and Daisy exchanged meaningful looks and frowned in unison.

“Where do you live nowadays?” Lucy shoved the donut box into my chest, daring me to lie.

Well, that was fast. Not even a Hello, how have you been?

“Home,” I said, trying to muster some conviction. “At Pops’s.”

I had no idea where I was going with this. There was no plan, other than vehement denial or breaking down in tears and admitting to everything, or maybe stalling by hyperventilating.

“You never seem to be there.” Daisy narrowed her eyes, her glossy lips pouting in disapproval.

I started walking deeper among the tourists and locals, passing stands and people. I wasn’t planning on buying anything but time that day. Time was all I needed to figure out how to break the news to my girlfriends.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of trust.” My mouth twisted. “You think I’m hiding something?”

“I know you’re hiding something.” Lucy cocked her head to one side before pointing her thumb in the other direction. “And I was hoping you could start by shedding some light on why that six foot giant is following you. And don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed him, because you kept glancing his way before you saw us sitting on the bench.”

I silently cursed Connor. He was following me 24/7 and being about as discreet about it as Paul Revere announcing the British are coming. But I couldn’t explain Connor, because I couldn’t explain my marriage to Troy, because I didn’t understand it myself. My friends knew my dad was not exactly Father-of-the-Year material, but even I found it difficult to tell them I suspected he’d sold me to the son of a dead mobster.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I said.

“No shit.” Daisy threw her hands in the air.

A bunch of kids in matching shirts on a fieldtrip ran between our feet, and I used my friends’ distraction to look behind me. Connor was there, still following me like I was a moving target.

Lucy, the voice of reason among the three of us, spun on her heel and sent him a threatening glare. “Take another step forward, buddy, and I’m calling the cops.”

But Connor continued flowing with the crowd, doggedly moving in the same direction as us, his eyes dead. With every step he took, my lies suffocated me a little more, the walls inching closer in on me. The box Troy put me in was becoming ridiculously small, even for a petite girl like me.

“Is he a bodyguard? Are you in trouble?” Daisy panted as Lucy quickened her pace and we followed suit. “And more importantly…is he single?”

I shook my head, snorting a tired sigh. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

Lucy was power-walking away from Connor as fast as she could. “Please tell me your dad didn’t get you into trouble.”

I stopped walking and stared down at my Keds. There was no more point in hiding what they’d pretty much already figured out. I was stupid to try and hide it from them in the first place.

“Don’t freak out,” I warned.

“The bastard.” Lucy strangled the donut box she carried and swung toward my bodyguard. I hoped she wouldn’t do something stupid like try and hurl a chocolate glazed at him. She would, too. If I was fire, she was an active volcano.

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