“This isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.” He
ran for the door and swung it open. It slammed into my side,
blocking any attempt I could make to grab him before he
disappeared. I heard his car engine roar to life and the tires of
the Mercedes squeal as he tore away from the motel.
“Someone will have heard that,” Spencer said,
already back on her feet. She and Tommy both helped me to mine,
though I barely registered what was happening. “We should go.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
“SO EXPLAIN THIS again. You two are…what?
Some kind of gypsies?” Spencer asked.
I sat at the old table in Tommy’s kitchen, my
bloody shirt balled in my lap. “Not—”
“Travelers,” Tommy said. He
sat at one of the island’s white stools. “They…” He paused.
“
We
call ourselves
Travelers. People call us Irish gypsies but rarely in a kind
way.”
“Sorry,” Spencer mumbled into the first aid
kit she’d opened on the table between us.
“I think we have bigger things to worry about
than ethnic insensitivity,” I said over her head. “Whatever
protection you had from Pop is now gone along with Judd and the
ledger.”
“I don’t think I’m the only one he was here
to kill. Lucky for both of us I was smart enough to make
copies.”
“
That’s good for us, but
since Pop doesn’t know about them, I need to get a hold of Jimmy
and tell him what happened. Hopefully, he’ll be able to get Maggie
somewhere safe.”
“I’ll call Maggie.” Tommy slid from the
stool. “To let her know you’re safe and she and Jimmy aren’t. I’ll
make arrangements for them to get up here, and we can figure out
where to go from there.”
“I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear from you,”
I said, looking him straight in the eye.
“And what makes you say that?”
“Your safe combination. 1031. It’s her
birthday.”
Tommy gave me a long look, then nodded
once.
“That’s a story I wouldn’t mind hearing
sometime,” I said.
“It’s only partly my story to tell,” he said.
“Maggie and I were close. I was close with both your parents, but
she and I met when she first came over from Ireland. Your
grandparents had already promised her to Jim though. I never really
had a shot. When your dad was killed, I begged her to leave with
me, but your brother was just a toddler and she was pretty far
along with you. She just couldn’t imagine the kind of life you boys
would have on the run.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” Spencer said,
though she didn’t look at him.
Tommy winced. “Spence, I know you don’t want
to hear it now, but I did what I had to keep you safe. Please
understand that.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to hear it.” She
ripped open a package of antibiotic ointment, her back still
stubbornly turned on her father.
“So you took off and left her behind with two
kids and no one to provide for her,” I said, still trying to piece
together my own story.
“I wasn’t going to leave without her, but
Maggie wouldn’t let me stay. She knew there’d be trouble after what
happened to your dad. She told me about the ledger Michael kept,
that it would give me a little cover in case he came after me.”
“It was her idea to take the book?” I
couldn’t believe it. Why hadn’t she told me about all this before I
left?
“It was. I wouldn’t even have known about it
if she hadn’t told me.” Tommy pushed a hand through his hair. “You
don’t know how many times I thought about going back for her, but
I’m not sure she ever really forgave me for what happened.”
“She’s forgiven you,” I said after
considering it for a second. “She didn’t want me to come up here.
Tried to talk Pop out of sending anyone after you.”
Tommy almost smiled then. “Anyway, I’ll go
make the call.”
I nodded my thanks. He paused in the kitchen
doorway for a second and watched his daughter smooth a glob of
antibiotic ointment over the gash in my arm. A pained expression
twisted his features, but they soon fell into lines of resignation.
He left Spencer and I alone without renewing his pleas for her
forgiveness.
I closed my eyes and breathed out a heavy
sigh through my nose. I concentrated on the feeling of her cool
fingers moving across my skin. When she finally broke the silence,
the sound of her voice made me jump.
“You and my dad were the most important
people in my life, and I didn’t know either one of you.” It was a
statement of fact, without any trace of the sadness I would have
expected to hear.
“I know, Spence.” I opened my eyes again to
watch her, though she refused to look at me just as stubbornly as
she had Tommy. “But your dad really did think he was protecting
you. As far as I can tell, the only thing he’s been worried about
since you were born was keeping you from getting mixed up in all
this.”
“Yeah, well, it didn’t work out so well, did
it?” She slapped a piece of gauze over my wound, sending a sharp
current of pain down my arm and up through my shoulder. I sucked
air between my teeth but didn’t even think about asking her to be
gentler.
“I’m sorry, Spencer. I could say it a
thousand more times and it wouldn’t make up for what I’ve done, but
it’s the truth. I know you’ll probably never forgive me, but—”
“Probably not.”
The corner of my mouth lifted in spite of my
throbbing arm or the raw guilt I felt. “Always straight to the
point, huh?”
“I couldn’t get anyone on the phone.” Tommy
came back into the kitchen, a cell phone pressed to his ear. “I’ve
called three times, but it just rings. Is this the right number?”
He crossed the kitchen and handed a scrap of paper to me. The
number for the trailer’s landline was scrawled across it, and I
wondered vaguely how Tommy had it and if he’d ever used it before
today.
But for now I was too concerned with getting
ahold of Maggie or Jimmy Boy to ask. “Let me try my brother.” I
pulled the cell phone from my pocket and dialed the number for the
emergency phone he’d promised to keep on him at all times. It rang
once, twice, three times. Nothing. After the fifth ring, a
prerecorded voice told me the caller I was trying to reach was
unavailable. I hung up and tried the number again. When I got the
same message, I set the phone down and looked at Tommy.
“Something’s not right. Jimmy would’ve
answered the phone if he could, and Maggie’s never far from the
trailer. There’s no good reason we can’t get ahold of them.”
Tommy grunted. “Then I’m guessing there’s a
pretty bad reason why not.”
“This has to have something to do with Judd,”
I said. I was starting to panic, but I had to keep my head straight
if I was going to figure out what to do next. “I have to go back to
help them.”
“And what do you think that’ll accomplish?
You just strolling back into the Village on your own.”
“I’ll figure something out on the way, but
I’m not just going to sit here and do nothing,” I said, getting to
my feet. Spencer stared up at me, still in her chair at the
table.
“I’m not suggesting you do nothing, but you
can’t go alone either. I’ll have to come with you. We can get there
faster in my car than you can on a bus anyway.”
I blinked at him. Why would he agree to go
back to the Village, especially now that there was nothing to keep
Pop from finishing the job he’d sent Judd up here to do?
“It’s
my
family. You may have been close
with Maggie twenty years ago, but that’s a pretty tenuous reason to
get yourself killed now.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t
understand yet, but we don’t have time to waste explaining them.
Anyway, the Village is probably the safest place for me right now.
Michael may be bold enough to send his son here to kill me, but
he’s not going to risk exposing the whole clan by having me
murdered on his doorstep. Keep the dirt far away from home. Rule
number one.”
He had a point. No matter how angry Pop was
with Tommy, he was still a reasonable man, and he wasn’t going to
risk everything he had in the name of revenge. At least, not unless
it was hundreds of miles from home.
“Fine then. We’ll go together. When can you
be ready to go?”
“I’m ready now,” he said.
“Give me ten minutes,” Spencer said, pushing
back her chair and closing the lid on the first aid kit. “I just
need to grab a few things.”
Tommy and I both stared at her. “Spence, you
can’t come,” I said.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re staying here,” Tommy said.
Spencer’s gaze swiveled from me to him and
back. “If you two think I’m going to sit at home and wait to find
out whether you’re alive or dead, then you’re crazy.”
“It’s not safe,” I said, trying to make her
understand. “I love you too much to put you in danger again. You’ve
been through enough.”
“Exactly! I’ve already been kidnapped and
held at gunpoint. I even had the pleasure of bandaging my
boyfriend’s gunshot wound. And you think I’m better off staying
here alone?”
The corner of my mouth turned up.
“Boyfriend?”
“That’s what you got from that?” She tried to
sound annoyed, but there was a slight twitch in her lips, too.
“I think she’s right, Tommy,” I said, but my
eyes never left hers. “She’s safer with us, and more than that, she
deserves to go. This involves her just as much as it does either
one of us.”
Tommy growled in frustration and shoved a
hand through his hair again. “Shay, this isn’t—”
“What did you call him?” Spencer narrowed her
eyes at her father.
I winced, though this time it had nothing to
do with my arm. Funny how the first lie I told her would be the
last I’d come clean about. “He called me Shay.”
The narrowed eyes turned on me. “What?”
“My name isn’t Shane Casey.” I fought the
urge to drop my head in a display of the shame I felt. “It’s Shay.
Reilly.”
Tommy cleared his throat. “I’ll give you two
a minute, but if we’re going, we need to go soon.” He left us alone
in the kitchen for a second time, but neither of us noticed
much.
“Shay Reilly,” she repeated after he’d gone.
She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “I’m
Spencer Costello,” she said, offering her hand. “Nice to meet
you.”
I took her hand in mine and couldn’t stop
myself from pulling her into my arms and crushing her against my
chest. I kissed her, not caring if she’d pull away or punch me or
jam her knee into my groin. It was worth the risk. And it was a
hundred times more worth it when she kissed me back, even if
hesitantly.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I said against
her mouth.
Spencer leaned back to look me in the eye.
“This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven, you know.”
“I know.”
“I mean, you saved my life and my dad’s, and
that’s not nothing. But really, I don’t even know who you are.”
“I know,” I said again and kissed the tip of
her nose. “But we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other
on the way to Louisiana.”
Acknowledgements
We couldn’t have finished
this book without the love and support of our families, so the
first very big thank you goes to Max Ernst, Darleen Zimmerman,
David Pincus, Cecile Bruhn, and Steve, James, Rhys, Alisha, and
Violet Bruhn. We love you all so much!
For being with us from the
very beginning (and offering some very helpful feedback on an
earlier draft) we’d like to thank Kristyn DiDominick, Angelo Boccia
Cedeño, and Dustin Moore. Thanks to Adam Bricker for inspiring one
of the first lines ever written in
The
Long Game
, and for always being a
character in his own right. For always being supportive of our
writing and just being inspirational, strong women, thanks to Amie
Knauer, Meghan Saweikis, and Fiona Shirk. For being super
supportive while also offering that little kick in the ass a writer
sometimes needs to stay focused (and for making the “day job” just
as much fun as time off), thanks to Amy Yoder McGloughlin and
Michael Brix.
We absolutely have to
thank Agent Pooja Menon of Kimberley Cameron and Associates who
gave us so much encouragement, advice, and support along the way,
all while being one of the coolest agents in the business. To
Kristen and Jolene at Pen & Muses, the friendliest and most
helpful publicists we could have asked for, and Rebecca A. Weston,
the most thorough copy editor. To all the wonderful, talented,
amazing, and hilarious ladies in the WrAHM society--we never would
have been able to do this without you. Finding this group has been
nothing short of miraculous for us. Thank you to Laurelin Page,
Melanie Harlow, Emma Hart, Robin Lucas, Delancey Stewart, and
Elizabeth Otto in particular, for going above and beyond in the
help and encouragement department and playing a huge role in
bringing this book to life. And an extra big thank you to Leigh Ann
who had the courage to lead the way and whose talent, intelligence,
and hard-work inspired us to make a go at it ourselves. Thanks to
New Adult Authors Unite, and the lovely ladies who run it, our Pen
Monkeys, and Dawn Pendleton for starting a great fall promo group.
To Team Fynn, our biggest, loudest, and best cheerleaders—we love
you guys! Thanks to everyone who follows us on Twitter, Facebook,
and Tumblr for all their support. A special thanks to Macklemore
and Ryan Lewis for producing the soundtrack to our journey. We’re
happy to be I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T chasing dreams.
Finally, our sincerest
thanks to anyone reading this book—a writer is nothing without a
reader, and we’re eternally grateful to you for giving us a reason
to do what we do.
Signed (if you’ve gotten
this far),