I’m staring at him with my jaw hanging open. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Peter shrugs. “People believe what they want to believe. Either way, it makes Sean look like a martyr for all these years, never saying a word about it, silently grieving his losses. The same people that were spitting on him previously, are now sending him fan mail.”

“What? Seriously?” I nearly drop my paper cup of tea.

“Yeah, it’s weird. There are more letters every day. You can’t turn on the television without seeing how Sean was horribly wronged all these years and his little cousin got away with murder. No one seems to care that Bryan took out a mobster.”

“That’s horrible. Bryan was a good man,” I choke up when I say his name. “I still can’t believe Sean would drive him into danger.”

“I don’t think he would, but Sean is still medicated, so the facts are blurry. The shooting occurred and then Sean went straight from the police station to find you. He hadn’t slept. It’s amazing he blocked that bullet.” Peter pushes back his dark hair and slumps back into his chair. His dark blue eyes bore into me, pinning me in place. “Tell me how he got it.”

My gaze darts around and I feign confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do. That gun was connected to another homicide—there was a man found in the woods. He’s yet to be identified. Bryan asked you for it, didn’t he? He never told you why or he made up some bullshit story so you wouldn’t tell Sean. Avery, everything has been pinned on Bryan and he’s dead. If you did something, if someone tried to hurt you and you fired, it’s not murder.”

I laugh and smile too much. “Peter, you’ve been watching too much TV. Nothing like that happened.”

“Really?” He raises a dark brow. “Because I happened to be up at Sean’s old place and found out that someone shot out the window a while back. You wouldn’t know anything about that either, right?”

I stare at him, heart pounding. For a second neither of us says a thing. “You have other people to care for and knowing what I know is like placing a bomb in your living room. Don’t ask about things that you don’t want to know.”

Peter’s gaze drops and he’s silent for a while. When he looks back up he says, “I did something once, well, more than once. The guilt eats away at you if you don’t let it out. Tell someone, when someone is coherent.”

I smile. “Someone is trying to get out of here every time his meds wear off. He hates this place.”

“I can believe it.” Peter stands. “Avery, if you need anything just ask. As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of us. Sean loves you, no matter what he says. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

I smile. “Thanks. Where are you off to now?”

“Police station. They’re canvassing the area for Masterson and he still hasn’t shown up. The guy’s hiding or gone. They need to shake him out before they lose him.”

I startle. “They haven’t caught Marty?” Every time I turn the TV on, it makes Sean angry, so I haven’t been watching. I assumed they caught him.

“No.” Peter tucks his hair behind his ear and looks around. “Do you have any idea why he wanted you dead? It seems so random.”

“He said he loved me a while back. He pretended to be g*y to be near me. I had no idea, Peter. Assuming Marty did this to begin with, the only thing I can think is that he was aiming for Sean. The whole thing is so weird. It’s not like him.” That topic stings horribly.

“What about your other friend? The mouthy girl with the big hair.”

“Mel? Mel had nothing to do with this!” I’m defensive when I shouldn’t be.

Peter puts up his hands in surrender. “All right, I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

But it’s not clear to me. “Spell it out for me, Peter.”

“The only people you know who aren’t dead are accused of murder. Mel is an anomaly.”

“I only knew two people.”

He gives me a look. “The sex video has sprung back to life. You know more than two people, a lot more. I know Sean can be hard, but stay here until they release him tonight. At least here I know you’ve got some security.”

Mari walks into the cafeteria. She smiles at me and I feel guilt and shame pool in the pit of my stomach. Ever since I found out she was the woman Trystan was in love with, I feel horrible. Peter smirks. “Case in point—you know more than two people.”

“Hey, Avery. How’s Sean?” Mari already knows how he’s doing, but she’s sweet enough to ask so I can talk about it if I want to.

“Doing better, thanks.”

“I heard about Bryan.” She looks at her hands. “I’m sorry for your loss. Both of you.” Mari glances at Peter who stands there frozen. “I knew him a little bit, anyway. He was kind.”

Peter snaps out of it. “You’re welcome to attend the wake tonight, if you’d like.”

She nods slowly. “I may.” After a second she asks, “If Trystan won’t be there. I don’t want to make him more upset.”

“I know I shouldn’t ask, but what happened with you guys?” I can’t help myself. The two of them seem perfect together, and yet they avoid each other.

She smiles softly. “We dated a long time ago. That seems like a past life. That’s all. I suppose there are still some sore spots, but there’s also compassion. I don’t want to make it more difficult for him.”

Peter offers, “If that Hummer isn’t there, then Trystan isn’t there. The car is usually with the man. I hope to see you later. Not many people can say anything about Bryan with conviction these days. They wonder if the man they knew was a lie.”

“No, the Bryan I knew was real.” Mari sounds certain. “He was hurting, but he put his friends and family first.”

“How’d you know that?” I ask, blurting it out.

“The way he’d suddenly go quiet and tense up. He was either really upset or he was hurting. I assumed the latter, because Bryan didn’t let things get to him. He’d laugh himself sick if he could. I’ve never seen a guy smile so much.” She looks like she’s remembering him. All three of us are silent for a moment.

Peter then gazes over at me. “If you need help with Sean, I’m here. Call me. Oh, and give me your cell number.”

“Uh, I don’t have one right now.” Peter looks at me like I’ve grown a testicle on my face or something equally weird. “Sean and Trystan took my phone so I couldn’t be tracked. I don’t know where it is, so I don’t have one at the moment.”

Mari speaks up, “Here, use mine.” She hands it to me.

“That’s okay. I’m fine, really.” I shove it back.

“I have three.” Now she has balls on her face. Sighing she explains, “One is for work, one is personal, and one is a number only one person has, and since we both know that person, you can use it.”

“Trystan has this number?” I ask glancing at the phone.

She nods. “I never changed it. Life is rough sometimes. I wanted to make sure he had someone if he ever needed someone. Shut up and take it, okay.” Mari stands up, flustered. “I’ll walk Dr., uh Ferro… Granz… Uh, I'll walk Dr. Peter out. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.” Mari made sure I knew where her office was on day one.

“Thank you, Mari.”

“No problem.” She walks away with Peter, giving him the number before I can say anything else.

When I glance up at the TV, there’s more news on the Ferro family and Marty. Marty’s mother is pleading for him to come out and talk. She’s afraid a sniper will take him down before he can say he’s innocent. Numbly, I stare at the show, watching her call out to her son, begging him to come forward.

Chapter 9

The next week rushes by in a blur of tears and sorrow. I still can’t believe Bryan is gone, and other than the outpouring of emotion I heard from Sean the night after Bryan was killed, no one is certain what happened or why. I feel horrible for giving him that gun. Bryan told me he could change things for Sean, that the public wouldn’t despise him anymore. It isn’t until now that I realize he meant to do this all along.

It worked. The news has been all over the place, replaying old clips of Sean walking into the courthouse for his trial, to more current clips of him, both with that stoic expression on his lips, both taken after a loss. Instead of attacking him, they’re playing Sean up to be this mysterious, sensitive man that everyone mistook. The fact that he silently took the blame for his wife’s murder to protect someone else just feeds the media frenzy. It has been nonstop Ferro. The press is parked out at the mansion and at Elizabeth Ferro’s lavish home.

Lucky for me, no one knows where I am, squatting in my parents old house. I managed to get the closing date from the realty company. I keep the lights off and make sure no one sees me come or go. I’ve replaced the broken glass on the back window. It’s not technically correct, but it’s enough so that if someone comes by they won’t see broken glass. The pane is sloppily glued in place with Liquid Nails. If someone gets close, they can tell, but no one has been looking. The realtor doesn’t come by because the house has already sold. Her commission is within reach. I just have to be out before the final walkthrough. By then, I should have a better idea of what to do next.

Sean begged me not to work for Black and I know that would be the height of stupidity, but the thought jumps around in my mind like a drunken rabbit. What if I had all the money I needed? What if I had the power to make men fall at my feet and beg? I don’t like these thoughts, but they keep popping up. I wonder if I’m losing myself, if life has gotten so difficult that the true Avery has sunk beneath the waves forever.

Mari’s phone buzzes. I’m lying on my back in the empty living room, staring at the ceiling. It’s a text message from Peter.

Have you seen Sean?

That’s a weird question. I type back.

Not since the other night. He wanted some time to do man things, alone.

What time was that?

I think for a moment and answer

Around 9pm a couple days ago. Sean’s done this before. He’s fine.

But as I type the words, a chill shoots up my spine, making me think something’s wrong. He shouldn’t have gone anywhere in his condition, but he said he had business that had to be done. I promised to hide out with Trystan, but I came here instead. I can’t imagine Sean falling off the map unless he wanted to.

I’m with Mom and Aunt Lizzie pretending not to notice. They know something’s up, but neither of them will say anything. Sean is in trouble. Meet me at IHOP in 20 minutes.

That explains why Sean didn’t call, but I wasn’t going to let myself get worked up about it. I figured he fell asleep or something. I text back a quick confirmation. Peter must know something I don’t.

Pushing up, I get to my feet, careful not to stand in front of the window. Normally I wouldn’t leave at this time of day. There are too many people coming and going, someone might see me. But I’m worried about Sean.

I tap his number into this old phone and wait. It rings forever. No voicemail. No nothing. Weird. I text him and don’t receive a reply.

“Where are you, Sean?” The pit of my stomach sinks and for half a second I think I know where he is, but dismiss the thought. There’s no way he’d be there.

Chapter 10

When I see Peter, he’s in a booth with a cup of coffee in his hand. “Have you eaten?”

I shake my head. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Too bad, I ordered for you.” He grins. “It’ll be out in a second.”

“So asking was meant to do what?”

His smile turns bashful and he sighs. “You’re hard to read, so I tossed out a direct question, which you answered, which is what I figured you’d say. If Sean hasn’t seen you in a couple of days, I seriously doubt you ate, especially with everything that’s been going on. Here it is now.” Peter leans back as several waitresses trail after each other, single file, placing dish after dish on the table.

“You ordered everything on the menu?” I salivate as I stare at a stack of pancakes. The scent of bacon hits me and my stomach grumbles.

“I didn’t know what you liked.” Peter says it seriously, which makes me laugh.

“There’s everything, except coffee.”

“Yeah, I only share coffee with Sidney.” He blushes and dips his head, grabbing a plate of eggs.

“Did you just make a dirty joke?” I can’t help it, I smile and it feels good. The muscles feel stiff and unused.

“Perhaps. Eat and let’s talk about Sean.” He points a fork at me and we start to backtrack through his days, trying to figure out what he was doing or where he went.

I finally blurt it out, because he’s got to be thinking it, too. “What if Sean went after Marty?”

Peter glances up. “Sean wouldn’t, not in his condition and not without me.”

“He tried to take on Campone alone.”

“He had Bryan.” Peter’s voice becomes stiff. He drops his fork and looks at me. “What do you think is happening?”

“I think Marty has him holed up somewhere. Maybe Sean went after Marty. Maybe Sean found him. We both know Sean isn’t at the top of his game right now. It gave Marty the upper hand. So if Sean’s plan didn’t work out, Marty could be holding him somewhere—waiting for me. He’s been trying to get at me all this time. It’s the perfect bait. He knows I won’t leave Sean. He even told me to work for…” I trail off before I say Miss Black’s name. Something pings in the back of my brain, but I can’t put the pieces together.

Peter glazes over it, and leans back in the booth before he shakes his head. “Masterson wouldn’t take the risk.”

“You’re wrong there. He totally would.” My voice has grown soft and I have that spaced out look people get when they’re trying to find the square root of 3.

A moment of silence passes and a forkful of pancakes is dangling halfway between the plate and my mouth. Is there a connection somewhere? Did I miss it? Does Marty know Black? He couldn’t.

“Care to share?”

“Huh?” I drop my fork and it clatters on the plate, knocking the bits of breakfast loose. They fall on the table.