Page 29

Erin

As I lay in bed listening to the slow steady rhythm of Ryan’s breathing and the ceiling fan humming, the quiet stillness of my house, I can’t help but hope that in agreeing to help with the arrest of Anthony my life will return to normal.

While I know Ryan and his team have enough on Anthony to put him away for a long time, I know it’s not enough to keep him in prison for the rest of his life. He’ll take a plea deal and he’ll be out in less than ten years. I’ve learned enough watching my father’s friends go down for major shit, but ending with minor results.

The secret I hold, deep and dark, I know could be Anthony’s undoing. It’s a secret that only Finn knows, a whisper in the dark, an admission on the tip of my tongue that I can’t bring myself to share with Ryan, because what if after all these years, it takes me down with it.

I agreed to help because as much as I fear him, I no longer want to live in fear, and not just for myself, but for Ryan and our baby, too. I can’t let this go on any longer, and I know I’m at a point where I need to admit to Ryan what I know about Anthony. I often wonder if I hide what I know or if I’m hiding from what I know.

I slowly find myself drifting off to sleep, my mind swirling with what I remember from that night, and as my eyes grow heavy, my dreams fill in the missing pieces. A nightmare that only fear can create.

Ryan’s alarm rings out softly, but even in its hushed tone, it still cuts through the darkness and forces its way into the sleepiness of the room.

We both groan at the same time knowing that even the black sky doesn’t give away exactly how early it is.

Early is an understatement—four o’clock a.m. Because any later and Ryan wouldn’t make it back to the station in time. Traffic begins to build with commuters around six, and suddenly a one hour commute turns into two hours.

Normally I’d roll over and act like his alarm wasn’t going off, but with Sarah here and after our discussion last night, we need to talk about how we proceed from here.

I roll over and cuddle into the side the of Ryan’s body, warm and comforting, and for a second I forget that I agreed to lure my ex-boyfriend into being arrested.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

“We need to talk more about last night,”

I mutter, my voice still raspy from sleep.

“You backing out?”

“No, but I probably should be.”

Ryan lets out a long sigh, and I can’t tell if he’s bothered by me not coming to my senses and bailing, or if he’s annoyed that I’ve still decided to go through with it.

I’m sure he’s just as torn as I am about it. It’s seems fucking crazy to put myself in this situation, something that I have intentionally avoided for years, but it also seems like the only viable solution.

“I understand if you can’t go through with it,”

Ryan says as he slides his arm around me, pulling me closer.

“But I think you’ll be able to draw Anthony right to us this way. We’re struggling to find him.”

“I understand,”

I reply, the hesitation in my voice makes me hold back. Pausing for I second I add.

“It’s hard because I’ve avoided him for so long. I’m walking straight toward something I ran away from.”

Ryan falls silent and for a moment I wonder if he’s fallen back to sleep, but then his hand begins to absentmindedly brush my back.

There’s something about the darkness that gives me courage or maybe it’s that I know the truth will eventually come out.

“I think Anthony killed someone,”

I whisper, my words hanging heavy in the air as they echo in my ears.

I’m sure Ryan already knows this, but I don’t mean he hired someone to do it. It’s still murder regardless of how it plays out, and in this case I mean that he actually took it upon himself to get the job done.

I feel his body stiffen against me and suddenly he’s sitting up, the light clicking on, illuminating the room, and taking the darkness along with my bravery with it.

“What did you say?”

Ryan asks sharply, his eyes wide and focused directly on me. When I don’t speak immediately he snaps.

“Erin, this is serious shit and if you don’t start talking now I’m going to assume the worst.”

“We were just kids…”

I start, but Ryan cuts me off, his voice loud and booming, as he nearly shouts.

“That’s bullshit, Erin.”

“Shit, Ryan, keep your voice down. Your sister is sleeping,”

I say, my hands shaking as I put them on his chest trying to calm him down, yet I can’t even calm myself down.

“And would you let me speak before you start interjecting?”

I’m sure Ryan can feel the trembling of my hands as he rests his over mine and the shakiness in my voice is apparent as I try to find the words, the words that will make him understand.

“We were supposed to be going to see a movie, but at the last minute Anthony got a phone call and we drove to this industrial area, like shipping containers and freight trucks. I wasn’t really paying attention,”

I confess, shaking my head at my own stupidity, my naiveté, wishing now that I would’ve committed every detail to memory.

“Anthony told me he’d be back in a second and I didn’t question him. Honestly, I knew by that point not to question him because I didn’t want to be anymore involved than I already was.”

Ryan has been silent, but his hands still clutch mine, and something about it allows me to keep going, like his touch gives me the strength to admit everything I know.

Carrying this secret has been a burden I have worn heavy for years, but more than that, I think carrying Anthony’s secret was the heaviest of them all. I held his close; it was bigger than anything because he didn’t care. I had to care for him.

“I heard arguing, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and then I heard several gun shots.”

I tell it all as if I was an outside observer, my voice now void of any attachment or emotion.

“Anthony got back in the car as if nothing had happened. I remember noticing how steady his breathing was and how composed he seemed, almost like it hadn’t even happened. A part of me thought I might have even dreamed the whole thing.”

I swallow hard, now beginning to worry about what Ryan is thinking, and even worse, that nagging feeling in the back of my mind is now front and center, screaming at me that I’m somehow responsible for what happened all those years ago.

Despite this, I continue, that detached feeling now long gone.

“He made a phone call to a guy he just called H…”

Ryan stops me, sitting up a bit taller, his hand squeezing mine slightly.

“Do you think it could’ve been Hamish? The guy I asked you about last night?”

Ryan questions, but there’s an eagerness to his tone, like my admission might lead somewhere.

“What did he say in the phone call?”

“It was cryptic, something I was never able to decipher, but I assume Anthony called him to clean up his mess.”

“What else do you know?”

Ryan presses, moving farther away from me, and it now feels like an interrogation and I grow anxious, as a feeling of warmth spreads over my face and neck. I swallow back the sob that clings to my throat and I suddenly feel far from comfortable sharing anything with Ryan.

“Nothing,”

I stutter out, but Ryan’s body language changes and he shifts so he’s now fully facing me.

“Erin, you need to tell me everything. There’s more, you need to remember. Any small detail that you think isn’t important. Did you see any blood on him? His hands? His clothing? Did he meet up with anyone afterward?”

He slams his hands down on the bed.

“Think, Erin!”

he shouts and it shatters the stillness of the house.

His questions come at me in rapid fire not even giving me a chance to process, let alone answer.

“Ryan, stop it,”

I admonish, my face now hot as my fingers claw at the itchiness that has developed on my neck. I can feel the tears swell in my eyes as I continue to silently beg for Ryan to stop his interrogation.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I understand he’s a cop, but at this moment I need him to be my boyfriend, not some hard ass detective trying to crack a case.

I leave the bed, unable to look at him and disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

Leaning over the sink I begin to cry as the feeling of judgment and shame washes over me. I didn’t expect this from him, and now any trust I felt has vanished in a matter of seconds.

He thinks I’m hiding something, but worse than that, what if he thinks I should’ve reported it all those years ago. What if I’m an accomplice to everything Anthony has done. Maybe a part of me agreed to help catch Anthony because of my guilt.

A couple of seconds later there’s a knock on the door and the sound of Ryan’s knuckles tapping startles me a little. I guess I expected him to leave; that he’d got what he needed from me so there was no sense in sticking around.

“Erin,”

he whispers, and his voice sounds sympathetic, like he’s trying to soothe me.

“Baby, can I come in?”

I nod even though I know he can’t see me, pausing for a second before I open the door. I can’t look at him; the guilt of my admission crushing me like a ton of bricks.

“Fuck, Erin, I’m sorry,”

Ryan says, pulling me into his arms.

“I don’t know how to be your boyfriend in this situation.”

Again I nod, but this time my head is resting against his chest. He’s trained to question people, trained to detach himself emotionally from things and that’s exactly what he did with me.

We were opposites.

When a secret is kept, long and still, held quiet, the only thing that can come of it is emotions and right now everything is spilling out.

“I promise you I know nothing else,”

I mutter through muffled sobs, my face pressed to Ryan’s chest. Ryan begins to shush me, his hands rubbing my back, and just as I begin to settle down I ask.

“Are you going to arrest me?”

As I suck in a ragged breath, the tears falling hard once again.

Ryan chuckles a little but quells it when he realizes I’m serious.

“Why would I arrest you?”

he asks, and the tone in his voice gives away the smile I know is tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m an accomplice or guilty by association? I don’t know…”

I say shrugging my shoulders because honestly I don’t know. A mob boss father may have raised me, but I’d never been in trouble with the law in my life. Fuck if I know how it really plays out.

I can do the hiding thing, the money laundering, a new identity, but none of that was in response to anything illegal. As much as I like to think I’m a badass, I’m fucking terrified of what may come from all of this.

Ryan and I stand in the bathroom for a while, his arms wrapped around me, neither of us speaking. I think we’re both trying to process how to proceed, and how to draw that line between our relationship and this situation.

“I don’t want you to go through with this,”

Ryan says firmly.

“This isn’t good for either of us.”

I push back from him, a feeling of confusion pulsing through my body, because we both know I can end all of this.

“I am going though with it,”

I respond back just as assertively.

“I understand that we’re both struggling with this fine line we have here, but I can’t carry this burden any longer. I want Anthony arrested. I want this over.”

Ryan sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face and running it though his hair. I can see the stress on his face, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed as he mulls over my words.

“Let me talk with the captain about what you told me, about what you know about Anthony and see if we have enough to arrest him. I’ll run some missing person reports for that year, check Atlanta and Boston and cross-reference them for any mob connections,”

Ryan tells me, but I know it’s not enough. It’s one of the reasons I never went to the police long ago. What was I supposed to say? I think I heard gunshots and I think my boyfriend fired the gun? It’s too vague, too simple to use it in any capacity.

“Ryan, we both know it’s not enough and even if it were, you can’t find Anthony.”

He’s like a ghost; he fades into the background, only coming out when he chooses. He’s knows they’re on to him so he’s being cautious right now, but he will crack easily.

He’s a mess; carrying that picture of us, showing up at my house, his botched attempt to kill Ryan; it’s a strategically placed house of cards and it’s about to come crashing down.

When Ryan doesn’t say anything more I add.

“He’ll come to me. I’m the one person he knows could ruin it all.”

Sucking in a long hard breath, Ryan says.

“Let’s get this fucker.”