Page 19 of Mafia Scars

He looked relieved to hear that and stood with his hand outstretched to take mine.

I took it and didn’t protest when he placed his hand at the small of my back as we walked out.

The cool night air kissed my cheeks. It was a little colder tonight than it had been, and there was dampness in the air, like rain was approaching.

I hated the rain, but the period just before where the air seemed much cooler was always nice.

We walked together through the park, in silence. Out of the corner of my eye I caught him watching me a few times.

We stopped by the pond and sat on the bench under the amber glow of the lamppost.

The mingle of the moon and light from the lamppost made the water’s surface look like gold leaf.

Sinclaire leaned into me, bumping against my shoulder.

“Do you remember when we used to talk when something was bothering us?” He smiled that warm smile that reached his eyes.

“There’s nothing bothering me.” Nothing I could talk about with anyone. Not even to Luc. There were things I’d never spoken about ever.

My father killing Agent Peterson, my father being involved with whatever plan that killed my mother. Both had weighed heavily on my mind, and it was heavier now with everything going on.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know, Taylor.”

Taylor.

Sometimes when people called me that it bothered me. It annoyed me even because it wasn’t my name.

I was Amelia Rossi, not Amelia Taylor.

This person I’d conjured up wasn’t me. But that was who Sinclaire knew.

I turned to face him properly and smiled, deciding I’d try to evade questions about me.

“I’m not lying. Is something bothering you?”

He laughed. “Yes. There’s a chance I need a vacation. Doctors said I went back to work too soon.”

“No way, they didn’t.” I couldn’t hide the sarcasm in my voice because he totally did. “You totally went back to work too soon. What’s happened?”

“I’m fine, just need rest.”

“So, rest. Take the time off. Go ice fishing or snowboarding.” He loved anything snow or ice related.

“Taylor, I think they sort of meant bed rest or the kind of holiday that has a beach and nothing to do.”

“Sounds like you have somewhere in mind.”

“Nope. Just saying. Plus, I wouldn’t go anywhere until I knew you were okay.”

How was I supposed to overlook the genuine concern and care I saw in his eyes and felt in his words?

When things turned ugly—when Luc and I found Cole’s dead body—Sinclaire had left his hospital bed to come to my aid. That was the kind of guy he was.

Max had been my partner and was a friend to me in every essence, but I knew Sinclaire would always have my back.

“I’m okay,” I assured him.

“You’re not. I think I’ve known you long enough to know when you aren’t yourself.”