The Long Game (14 page)

The idea of Judd Sheedy getting anywhere near
Spencer had me to the landing and yanking him to his feet by his
shirt collar before I had time to think about it. I slammed him
back against the door.

“I don’t need your help,” I said through
gritted teeth. “Just stay out of my way.”

Judd flashed his rat-like sneer. “Easy,
Buffer. This ain’t much of a welcome. You haven’t even invited me
in for tea. What would Maggie say?”

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to calm
down. He hadn’t even mentioned Spencer, so there was no use getting
into a fight in full view of my landlord’s house and getting us
both kicked off the property. I let him go and nudged in between
him and the door so I could unlock it.

“Come on.” I yanked the door and stepped
aside. “Get in here before someone sees you and thinks I’ve started
taking in vagrants.”

“Nice,” Judd said. “Mr. Big Shot pretends to
be in college and suddenly thinks he’s better than me. Just
remember, you haven’t found that book yet and odds are you never
will. You think you were dog shit in the clan before? Just wait
until you have to go back empty-handed.”

I slammed the door behind me and flicked a
light switch to illuminate the dim apartment. “Fuck off.”

Judd crossed to the refrigerator. “So,
Buffer…” He helped himself to a long swig of milk straight from the
carton and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “What’s
your plan? Assuming you even have one.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m having dinner at
Tommy’s tonight.” I knew I shouldn’t have let him get under my
skin—the less Judd knew the better—but I couldn’t help taking the
bait when he started in on me that way.

“And it only took you, what, a month?” He
tossed the open carton back inside the refrigerator, and I saw a
stream of milk spill out before he slammed the door shut.

I grabbed a rag from the counter. “You’re a
damn slob, you know it?” I shoved him aside and opened the door
again. The carton had nearly emptied itself, and milk pooled on the
bottom shelf. I sopped it up and threw the wet rag into the
sink.

“What do I care about cleaning up? That’s
what women are for. And pussies like you, I guess.” He laughed at
his own joke and made himself comfortable at the kitchen table,
sitting in one chair and putting his feet up on the other. “So tell
me about this dinner.”

“There’s nothing to tell. I’m going to
Tommy’s around seven, and I’ll look for the ledger while I’m
there.”

“That’s your big plan?”

“Do you have a better one?”

“What if I do? This ain’t my show. You’re the
one who wants to be the big hero.”

“I thought you came to make sure the job was
done right, Prince.”

“I’m here to make sure you
don’t fuck it up,
Buffer
. I know how you are when you get a good whiff of some pretty
slash. You start thinking with your johnson, and there ain’t much
there to think with.”

I kicked the chair out from under his feet,
and they crashed to the floor, pulling him to the edge of his seat.
He sprang out of the chair and slammed his hands into my chest,
shoving me backward.

I hit the refrigerator and sent magnets
scattering. I was back in his face in a heartbeat, though, my hands
clenched into fists. “You just remember who Pop sent here in the
first place, asshole. If he thought you were even close to smart
enough, don’t you think he would have sent you instead?”

“He knows I’m good for more than finding some
little book. I was out on the road while you wasted all your time
in school. Playing fetch is all you’re good for.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Prince. Maybe
one of these days you’ll actually believe it.”

“
If you didn’t have to look
presentable for your little dinner tonight, I’d wail the tar out of
you, you little shit. Jimmy Boy isn’t around to protect you this
time, so don’t push your damn luck.”

We were in each other’s faces now, so close I
could feel flecks of his spit on my cheek when he threatened me. My
muscles jumped with the desire to pummel him. “I’m pretty sure I
can kick your ass without you landing a punch if you’re that
worried about keeping my face pretty.”

“In your dreams, Buffer. Maybe I should fuck
you up so I can take your place at dinner. I saw a picture of
Costello’s daughter, and I gotta say, I can see why you’ve been
taking your time with that hot little piece of ass.”

I shoved him so hard it knocked him from his
feet, and he flew backward, landing on the table, which immediately
collapsed under him. He scrambled back to his feet, sending pieces
of broken wood sliding across the kitchen floor. He slammed his
body into me and drove me back into the fridge, which groaned as it
inched backward, gouging out strips of linoleum. I lowered my head
into his shoulder and aimed my fists into his sides, one after the
other. I shoved him again, all my weight behind the effort, and he
stumbled back. His foot caught a broken table leg, and he crashed
to the ground a second time. I threw myself on top of him, intent
on unleashing every bit of frustration, anger, and uncertainty I’d
been keeping at bay since I’d realized how I really felt about
Spencer. I let my arms fly, not all that concerned with where they
landed. Judd defended himself with one hand and strained to reach
something underneath him with the other. I assumed he was groping
for a broken table leg, and I wasn’t really concerned about his
ability to land a blow with it. But when something cold and hard
pressed into the skin under my chin, I froze.

“That’s what I thought.” Judd panted. He kept
the barrel of the gun tight under my jaw and forced me back so he
could push himself up to sitting. “Now you want to rethink that
whole kicking-my-ass thing?”

“Christ, Judd.” I held my hands up in
surrender. “What the hell? You crazy fuck.”

“That’s right, keep insulting the guy with
the gun. Real smart, Buffer.”

“You gonna shoot me for calling you crazy?
That would kind of prove my point, wouldn’t it?” Part of me worried
he might honestly be that crazy, but I tried not to let the panic I
was feeling show in my face. There was nothing I could do about the
thrumming heartbeat in my ears though.

“Try me and see.” Judd’s eyes glinted wildly.
“I could have the book and a quick taste of that little slice of
cherry pie and be on the road again before anyone found you.”

I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth
would shatter, but the gun at my neck kept me from doing anything
more. “Okay, you’re right,” I forced myself to say. “I think we
both just need to cool off. I admit I got a little distracted, but
the game is back on track now. I’ll have what I came for by
tonight. Just put that thing away.”

“You better.” Judd dropped the pistol from my
chin but made sure it stayed where I could see it. “Or I’ll be more
than happy to do it for you.”

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

I GLANCED AT the text from Spencer on my
phone’s display, then frowned up at the imposing Main Line house.
Set back from the road behind a long row of tall, thin hedges, the
house was a huge gray stone construction spread out over what
could’ve easily been an entire city block.

I double-checked the address on the unadorned
black mailbox at the end of the driveway. I’d congratulated myself
on finding the house so quickly after leaving the SEPTA station,
but now that I saw the meandering driveway, I was pretty sure I’d
made a mistake. When Spencer told me her father lived in the
affluent neighborhood a couple miles from Balanova’s campus, I’d
imagined a less gaudy version of Pop Sheedy’s house back home, but
the word “large” hardly seemed to capture this monster. The area
was home to some of Philadelphia’s wealthiest families, but this
place put most of its neighbors to shame. I confirmed the address a
final time, then started up the drive.

Once the house was in full view, I couldn’t
stop from blowing out a low whistle. Tommy Costello had money—and
way more than the five hundred large he’d stolen from my clan. The
reality of just how successful he’d been since he’d taken off was
just now starting to settle in. Spencer had told me Tommy was a
venture capitalist, whatever that was, and it’s why he was so keen
on her studying business instead of literature like she wanted. I
had to admit, if this is what a business degree could get you, I’d
be willing to take a few classes myself. My stomach twisted
uncomfortably, and I glanced around for a place to sit.

As the driveway approached the house, it
circled around a low, stone wall that enclosed a perfectly
landscaped section of the lawn. I walked over to it and sat behind
a wide shrub that had been planted among the flowers and saplings.
I leaned forward on my knees and breathed in through templed
fingers.

There was no reason for nervousness, I told
myself. Maggie was fond of telling me I was favored by the fairies,
and maybe she was right. I didn’t believe her folktales any more
now than I had when I was little, but I had to admit everything
about this con had come pretty easily.

Well, almost everything.

I thought of Judd, sitting on the couch where
I’d left him back at my apartment, and the gun he’d so casually
laid on the coffee table. If I came back empty-handed tonight,
there’d be no telling what he would do. Or who he would hurt to get
what he wanted.

I shifted on the cold stone, my thoughts
turning to Spencer. I’d made an enormous mistake in falling for
her, but if I didn’t get what I’d come for, she’d be in danger of
things a lot worse than a broken heart. Still, she was the first
girl I’d ever let myself have feelings for, the only girl I could
ever imagine feeling this way about, and now I was supposed to walk
into her father’s house and steal from him.

I shook my head to get rid of the thoughts
tumbling around inside it. It wasn’t my heart or Spencer’s I needed
to be concerned with. The closer I’d gotten to Spencer, the less
I’d thought about Rosie Sheedy. Marrying her had zero appeal, even
up against the idea of one night with Spencer. But I needed to
think about Maggie and Jimmy Boy. The way Judd talked about my
family, it was pretty clear that if I didn’t get the book soon, I
wasn’t the only one who would suffer for it.

It was what it was. I came to Balanova for
one reason, and I couldn’t change things now. I balled my hands
into fists and rubbed my knuckles hard against the top of my
thighs. Falling for a mark was a stupid mistake—an unforgivable
one—but only if I let it get in the way of the job.

Besides, it wasn’t Spencer I was there to
con. Not really. It was Tommy, and he deserved it. It was his
selfishness that had robbed Spencer of the chance to grow up around
family and friends in the Village. And, of course, it was Tommy
who’d betrayed my clan and my father. I needed to remember
that.

I stood up and followed the stone wall around
to its other side. The dark mahogany door greeted me, and I glanced
down at myself before going up the steps to knock. I’d chosen a
pair of gray slacks and a simple black button-down. Originally I’d
worn a tie, too, but Judd’s mocking laughter had quickly convinced
me to abandon it before leaving the carriage house. I brushed some
lint from my shirt, then ran a palm down the front of my slacks to
smooth out any wrinkles.

Satisfied with my appearance, I bounded up
the stone stairway that led to the front door. I reached the porch
and blew out a long breath before lifting the thick, iron
doorknocker.

I held my breath as I waited for the door to
open. Would Tommy answer? Would he somehow recognize me as a
Traveler—or, worse yet, as Wiley Jim’s son—and slam the door in my
face? Suddenly this dinner seemed like a terrible idea. I needed
more time or at least a better plan. I needed a way into the house
that wouldn’t involve meeting Tommy at all. I needed—

“Spencer.” I took a step back as the door
swung open and grabbed the iron railing to steady myself.

“You found it.” She beamed at me and stepped
down onto the porch to take my free hand in both of hers. “I was a
little worried you might get lost.” She pulled me through the door
and into the cool air inside the house.

The joy in her face made all my earlier
nervousness vanish in an instant. Somehow, just being near her made
me certain everything would work out the way it needed to. “It’s a
little…bigger than I was expecting, but yeah, I found it okay.” I
smiled down at her as I shut the door behind me.

She grinned sheepishly at the floor. “I may
have understated the size a little bit. I didn’t want to sound like
I was bragging or anything.”

I chuckled and slid my fingers along her
jawline, tilting her face so she looked up at me. “Spence, you’re
the most unassuming person I’ve ever met. You could tell me your
father was the Pope, and it wouldn’t sound like you were bragging.”
I leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose.

Spencer’s smile grew, and she stood on
tiptoes to throw her arms around my neck. I winced as she pressed
into my bruised ribs but wrapped my own arms around her waist and
found her lips with mine. I would’ve been content standing there
kissing her in the hall all evening, but a voice at the back of my
head—one that sounded a lot like Judd Sheedy—reminded me of why I’d
accepted the invitation to dinner in the first place.

“Something smells amazing,” I said, using it
as a convenient excuse to put a little distance between her mouth
and mine.

“Dinner should be ready soon. I hope you like
lasagna.”

She looked toward the kitchen. I took the
opportunity to glance down at her while her attention was
elsewhere. She wore a cream-colored skirt made of a gauzy material,
and the neckline of her black sweater framed her delicate
collarbone in a way that made me want to run my tongue over it and
down to the hollow at the base of her throat.