Page 26 of Arranged Addiction

“Because I found a note on the girl’s body. And it was signed with the name Senesi.”

Mom doesn’t respond right away, but I hear her breathing double.

“That can’t be right.” She’s whispering now. The noise of the kids fades into the distance like she’s going into a different room. “Vincenzo Senesi’s been dead for years.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Unless there’s some other Senesi?—”

“Who’s this dead girl?”

“Natalie Malinowski. Casey’s best friend.”

Mom lets out a long breath. “That’s not good.”

“If he’s really back, we’ve got a serious problem.”

“All right. Okay. I’ll talk to Seamus and get him moving on the body. Are you sure Casey’s clean in all this?”

“She’s safe and with me. She wasn’t anywhere near the crime scene last night.”

“Good. That’s good.” Mom curses softly. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her use foul language before. It makes me profoundly worried. “I’ll have to talk to your father.”

“I called you for a reason.”

“I know that, Declan, but he was around last time. He’ll know who to talk to.”

“Leave him out of it.”

“If the Butcher of Milan is really back, we’re going to need your father’s help. Keep an eye on Casey for now. We’ll talk again soon.”

The line cuts off. I shove my phone back into my pocket. Casey’s right where I left her, still staring off into space. I can only guess at what she’s feeling.

But an ugly prediction fills my body like a black, rotten light.

This is only the beginning.

Chapter 8

Casey

Natalie’s dead. And it’s my fault.

I don’t know how. I’m aware on some level that I’m probably just torturing myself for no reason. But I can’t shake this feeling.

My best friend was stabbed in the chest, and somehow, I’m to blame.

It’s just survivor’s guilt or something like it. But I keep coming back to that over and over. Natalie’s dead. It’s my fault. She’s gone, and I’m the reason. Over and over, my head a storm of ugly, bitter sadness, the kind of mourning that feels like it’s tearing me to pieces.

She was such a good person. Loud, outgoing, the center of every room, the magnet that brought every group together. Natalie kept me sane for years. She’s been my cheerleader, my sounding board, my best friend and my everything.

I wanted to be half as bright as she was.

Now she’s gone and I don’t know what to do. I can’t move or think right. I want to call her and talk to her so badly it’s like a hand around my throat.

She didn’t deserve this.

Declan brings me tea. He sits with me and makes me drink it. We don’t talk, and I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to. Instead, his presence is enough. It doesn’t take the pain away, but it grounds me at least. I manage to get the tea down and the warmth brings some life back to me. I lie curled up in the blanket, my head in Declan’s lap as he lightly strokes my back and hair, and I don’t even know why I’m comfortable doing this. A little over a day ago, I wasn’t even allowed to use his first name.

I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, it’s pitch black in the room. I’m still on the couch. I look around in a panic, only to find Declan’s sitting at my feet now, propped up in the corner of the couch. There’s a pillow under my head and another blanket on top of me. He’s breathing slowly and must be asleep.