Page 50 of Dirty Hearts

“Old mental hospital.”

“I’m on my way.”

* * *

By the time I got to Luc, my brother had shaped up.

The place had been blown to smithereens. He told me what happened, and it felt like my whole body shifted out of existence.

We’d known Henry forever. He was the first person we’d met when we came to Chicago years ago. Felt like he was part of my family to some extent.

No, not to some extent.

He was. The man was like a brother to me.

He and his family were like my own too, and if Luc hadn’t killed that bastard, Victor, I would have done it myself. Cut his damn head off so I could make sure he was dead.

Henry was a guy I could trust, and the last thing I said to him when I last saw him was to fuck off and die.

God, I was truly despicable. Disgusting, like I should die.

I couldn’t believe it.

That whole day was grief beyond grief as everyone mourned. A whole family taken just like that. A man and his wife, and their two children. It was unbearable and worse because we didn’t know who’d hired a hit on the family, and a hit like Victor.

Luc said Henry owed money. I was livid when I heard that because I would have given him anything if he needed it.

Maybe though, if I hadn’t been so caught up in my own problems with Ava, I would have seen he was in trouble. I would have seen it and not been more of a fucking prick than I already was.

Grief sent me right back to the bar. I got there just after lunchtime and stayed all day. Stayed and drank, until I could no longer feel the time difference and the bartenders continued to serve me because they knew who I was and probably feared me.

Soft fingers ran over my shoulders. Soft and searching.

I turned and stared long and hard at the woman before me.

Ava… no… Marissa.

“Marissa, I told you to leave me alone,” I snapped.

“Claudius it’s me. Ava.” She cupped my face and offered a soft smile.

I blinked several times trying to see past my drunkenness.

The face was hers… hair down, minimal make up, the soft pink shimmer on her lips that smelled of fresh fruit and that smell. Like vanilla. Sweet vanilla from the pod.

Ava always smelled like that. And the clothes. She had on one of those flowy summer dresses with the straps over her delicate shoulders.

“Ava, you came back to me?” My voice shook, and I felt like the mess I was.

“Yes. I came back.” She smiled. “I missed you too much.”

“No, you said you could only dream of going somewhere like Europe. Let’s both go.” I nodded, taking hold of her. “I want to be wherever you are. We’ll go together.” That’s exactly the kind of thing Henry would have done.

“Okay. I’d love that.”

“Ava… Henry’s … dead. He and his family.”

Sadness clouded her eyes, but something weird happened. It was like I was looking at her but not seeing her.