Page 17 of The Mobster’s Daughter (Massachusetts Mafia #2)

She glanced around, then she followed him through an open archway that led to a living room an d kitchen.

The kitchen exuded a warm, rustic charm she might have appreciated under different circumstances.

In the center of the room was an expansive, weathered oak table with six chairs around it.

An iron chandelier hung above it, casting a soft glow over everything.

The creamy white walls appeared to be freshly painted and covered in old-fashioned botanical prints.

Open shelves held mismatched crockery, copper pots and pans, and glass jars of what looked like dried herbs or spices.

The only modern thing in the kitchen was a coffeepot next to the deep porce lain sink.

A fire burned in a massive stone fireplace that dominated one wall.

Grouped around it were an overstuffed sofa and two faded floral armchairs.

A large area rug covered the wooden floor.

It didn’t look like a place where a man like Dante would live.

The room radiated warmth, while his demeanor was cold and aloof.

She couldn’t reconcile the two in her head.

Caitlin went to stand in front of the fireplace, sighing when the heat hit her back. She rubbed her arms and waited for Grady to give her some kind of ex planation.

“What is this place?” she asked.

A voice spoke from behind her. “This place is off the beaten path and perfect for hiding people who don’t want to be found.”

“Caitlin, this is Dante,” G rady said.

“O’Reilly’s daughter, right?” Da nte asked.

She nodded. There wasn’t anything to say; everyone knew who she was, yet she was constantly kept in the dark.

She’d hoped after what happened between them, things might change, and she wouldn’t be treated like a schoolgirl who didn’t know her ass from a hole in the ground. Apparently, she was wrong.

“Is there someplace I can clean up?” she asked.

“Follow me,” Dante said. “Grady, why don’t you make a pot of coffee while I show Miss O’Reilly the upstairs bathroom?”

Caitlin didn’t look at Grady as she followed Dante back into the front living room. He led her up a set of carpeted stairs to the sec ond floor.

“The bathroom is at the end of the hall.” He pushed open a door directly behind him and pointed at an antique dresser against the wall. “There are some shirts and sweatshirts in that dresser that might fit you. Probably a pair of sweatpa nts, too.”

“Thanks,” sh e mumbled.

Dante left her and went downstairs. Caitlin used the bathroom, washed her hands and face with the bar of soap on the sink, then went to the bedroom and searched through the dresser until she found a button-down shirt and an oversized sweatshirt that looked like it might fit her.

She put them on and started back downstairs.

Halfway down, she heard Dante say her name and froze.

“Tell me about Caitlin.”

“What do you want to know?” Gr ady asked.

“When did you start having sex with her?”

Grady choked on something and coughed. When he finally spoke, his voice was gruff and deep. “What the fuck are you talki ng about?”

Dante laughed. “So, you are sleeping with her?”

The silence hung heavy in the air. It was a full thirty seconds before Grady answered.

“Sleeping with her is a recent development. It just kind of happened.”

She rubbed her forehead. It just kind of happened. Jesus, men didn’t change even as they aged. Why couldn’t he admit there were feelings involved?

Grady said something she couldn’t hear, then Dante asked, “Do you love her?”

More silence, then Grady spoke. “I don’t believe in love. Can we change the subject , please?”

Caitlin sat up straight, stung. What the fuck did that mean?

He doesn’t believe in love? Then what the hell was she doing?

She’d been half in love with him for two years, hoping and praying he felt the same.

She didn’t want to hear anymore, so she tiptoed down the stairs.

The front door was only a few steps away, and the men in the kitchen were talking.

They probably wouldn’t notice if she went outside and got some fresh air.

Years of practice sneaking out of her father’s house and evading her ever-present bodyguards made it easy for her to open the door and slip out without makin g a sound.

The wind was sharp and biting. Stark, silver light from the moon cast odd shadows over the ground and the faint smell of wood smoke filled the night air. Caitlin loved fall, but wintry nights like this were not her favorite, especially when she only wore a sweatshirt and a pair of s weatpants.

The barn loomed in the distance, so she headed that way.

The heavy doors were locked. She peered in the window and saw the Ford pickup truck and the Bronco parked side by side.

A glance back at the house told her nobody was coming after her.

She walked the length of the barn and around the back, where she found a blue sedan next to a garden overrun by weeds.

Caitlin tugged on the door handle, and, to her surprise, it opened, so she slipped inside and pulled the door shut.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I could drive away and disappear?” she wondered out loud.

Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. What if she just disappeared? Not with Grady’s help or her father’s, but on her own. She didn’t have to tell anybody where she was going. Hell, she could drive in whatever direction she wanted and stop whenever she wanted. Nobody ha d to know.

Of course, money was an issue. She couldn’t use her credit or debit cards because they could easily be traced. She would need cash and a lot of it. And there was only one person besides her father who could help her in that department: her co usin Finn.

A plan formulated in the back of her mind, one she might actually make work. All she had to do was figure out how to get away f rom Grady.