Page 27 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Taylor

Why do I choose emotionally unavailable partners?

I gnaw on the cap of my pen, contemplating the question my therapist posed.

Because I like problems, not peace?

If that’s the case, I should become a lawyer.

Because I’m addicted to drama?

Not a lawyer, an actress.

Because I like to cringe myself to sleep?

And boy, didn’t Gavin help me with that one last night. The most embarrassing part is that I almost fell for the man’s bullshit.

Because my mood’s stabilized with meds, and I crave the highs and lows?

Damn, if that’s the reason, I need to ride a roller coaster.

Because I don’t know????????

I underline the last one over and over until I’ve torn a hole in the page. Frustrated, I toss the journal and pen on my nightstand.

Sipping my tea, I stare at my gym clothes laid out on my dresser. Working out is undoubtedly good for my mental health. But what’s not good for my mental health?

Gavin fucking Webb.

After getting ready, I drive, not to the gym, but to the boardwalk. Putting in my earbuds, I begin my jog. Each foot forward is a struggle because I hate running.

The pier catches my attention, and I veer toward it. Stopping at the counter, I buy a ticket, and I’m the first in line for the roller coaster. “You ever ridden this coaster?” I ask the tween girl seated next to me as the worker pulls down our lap bar.

“Oh, yeah. Like a million times,” she says confidently.

My sweaty hands wrap around the bar as we begin our slow climb up, up, up, until the ride pauses at the tippy-top.

“Why did I pick the front row?” I cry, gripping the lap bar for dear life.

“Because it’s the best!” The girl holds up her hands in anticipation.

Refusing to be shown up by a twelve-year-old, I hold up my hands.

The coaster accelerates, and I squeal as my seatmate laughs.

Drops and twists and turns, and I’m laughing right along with her when we come to a screeching stop.

“Yes!” I extend my fist, and she bumps mine with hers.

Highs and lows. Check.

Gavin

The evening comes to an end, and I lock up Ace’s. I’m disappointed Taylor didn’t show for her training session. Not that I’m surprised, or that I would’ve had anything to say in my defense that I didn’t say last night.

Which was nothing.

I drive to Inferno’s club, joining the crew. “Dominic. How’s the concussion?” I tap my temple with my finger.

“Ready for round two when you are.” He cracks his knuckles.

I try not to laugh. “Sure, man. Name the time and place.”

“How about right now, pretty boy?” Dominic throws a wild punch.

With a smooth roll, I pat my mouth with a fake yawn.

“What’s going on?” Inferno appears dressed in black from head to toe. He’s wearing a full-face latex mask molded from John’s face, what Inferno’s face would look like without the scars. It’s a mind-fuck if ever there was one.

“Hey, John,” Dominic says, unable to tell the difference between my brothers. “Gavin and I were just goofing around.”

“Yeah, sure. Just goofing around.” As soon as I get the green light, I’m burying this motherfucker.

“Dominic, give me an update on Katarina Stefanos,” Inferno orders, adjusting the sunglasses covering his gray eyes. A wolf pack without our pack leader. It makes me uncomfortable that we’re keeping John out of the loop, but I’ll defer to his twin.

“She’s been holed up at a beach house in Surf City with Fabio Mazza,” he reports. “Place is gated and has a security system, so if we’re going to grab Kat, we’ll have to draw her away from the house.”

“Couldn’t you do that, being as you used to date her?” I comment, gauging my brother’s reaction.

“You didn’t mention you had history with the woman,” Inferno admonishes Dominic.

Dominic shrugs. “Didn’t realize it mattered.”

Inferno’s pager beeps, and he grabs it from his pocket. “Let’s roll.”

Our crew loads into the back of windowless cargo trucks, and I take a seat on the floor. Across from me, Dominic keeps shooting me the evil eye.

Keep digging that grave.

We arrive at the address given to us by Sal, and I get to work on picking the lock while the crew goes around busting the security cameras.

It takes over ten minutes, but I smile triumphantly when the lock pops open. Lifting the rolling door, Inferno flashes his light inside an empty building.

Cursing, I grab my phone and call Sal, wondering if the idiot gave us the wrong unit number. It goes straight to voicemail, and I hang up.

Inferno walks the perimeter of the building, not finding anything. “Let’s go,” he barks.

He pulls me to the side and tells me quietly, “Let Sal know we don’t appreciate being jerked around.”

“With pleasure.”

The anticipation of pounding Sal’s face propels me down the boardwalk. My eyes land on a curvy woman ahead of me, my stride faltering.

I could pick that voluptuous ass out of any lineup.

Figuring Taylor’s going to work, she surprises me when she veers in the opposite direction of the Diamond, toward the pier. Nearly losing her in the crowd, I weave in and out of people until I spot the red hair.

She exchanges something with the teenager behind the ticket window; good thing he’s behind glass, else he’d be drooling all over her.

Sorry, buddy, the Simping for Taylor Club isn’t accepting new members.

She grabs her tickets, disappearing in the throng of people.

Is she meeting someone?

A strange feeling bubbles in my chest; too many damn feelings. I should find a Brit-type woman and fuck her to get Taylor out of my head. Or is it a Bree-type woman?

Dammit. I still don’t know.

I force myself to turn around and walk to the meetup spot. Impatiently, I tap my foot.

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Thirty minutes

Asshole’s now forty minutes late.

Not knowing where Sal lives, I can’t pay him a surprise visit, and it’s too risky to approach him at Fabio’s restaurant. The only other contact I have for him is Mia.

And if I saw that little bitch again, I might kill her.

Nah, there’s no might about it.

Needing to work out some of this frustration, I return to my car and make my way to the gym.

The blare of a siren has me looking in my rearview. Easing on the brakes, I pull to the side, allowing the fire engine to pass. As I continue to the gym, there’s now smoke billowing in the air, and I get a really bad feeling.

Merging into traffic, I drive as far as I can before reaching a barricade. Turning around, I find a spot on the street and hop out, working my way through the crowd of onlookers.

“What happened?” I ask a bystander.

“Don’t know. I was in the building across the street from the one that’s in flames. Heard a huge explosion, and I got the hell out of there.”

“Which building is on fire?” I can’t see from here.

“It’s a gym. Ace’s something or other is the name.”

All the blood drains from my face.

“You okay?”

A loud whap whap whap has us all looking up to the sky; a news copter.

I hustle to my car and call John. “What’s up?” For once, he answers his phone.

“Ace’s is on fire,” I say in a rush.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s on fire! Pull up the local news; should be a live feed.”

“Give me a second.” My heart’s beating frantically as he says, “Get out of there.”

“But shouldn’t we do something?”

“Like what? Tell the authorities our shell company that was running an underground gym is on fire?” He pauses. “They’re reporting it’s a natural gas explosion.”

“We didn’t use natural gas at the gym,” I say, confused.

“Exactly.”

“Spell it out for me,” I grit through my teeth.

“This has Parisi family written all over it. Let’s meet up tomorrow morning at Inferno’s to come up with a plan of attack.”

“Tomorrow morning? What’s more important—”

But he’s already hung up.