Page 29 of The Woman at the Funeral (Costa Family #11)

“From the stories I heard, you used to be one,” I shot back, enjoying the gasp that escaped her. “You cheated on Tom, what, eight times? It’s no wonder he never wanted to be home. You made a cuck out of him.”

“Watch your mouth,” another voice snarled, making me aware that Danny had slipped in behind his mother without me realizing.

“Easy,” Ronny, never usually the cool or collected one, demanded. “You’ll have time to play with her later.”

This time, the way my stomach rolled had nothing to do with the drugs. Because while Matthew had been careless, Danny had some genuinely wicked tendencies. Always fighting, grabbing women’s asses, getting involved with fellow troublemakers, going in and out of prison ever since he was a teenager.

I didn’t know what he was capable of doing to me. But if he was given a free pass, the sky was the limit.

“Being a bitch won’t save you here,” Ronny said. “The only thing that’s going to save you is to tell me where the files are.”

My brain was foggy, my thoughts sluggish.

But I wasn’t an idiot.

The second she knew about the laptop, she had no reason to keep me alive.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Danny snapped, charging forward.

Ronny’s arm shot out, stopping him from getting to me.

“We know you have them.”

“You took everything of Matthew’s,” I reminded her. “Even the things I bought for him.”

“You have them. In that safe.”

“What safe?”

Danny, moving faster than his mom this time, grabbed the flashlight on his way to me, then cocked it and cracked me across the face with it.

Pain exploded.

My arms shot up, wrapping around my head, trying to protect myself from more blows.

Only to expose my side and get another hard knock to my ribs. My breath flew out, and it didn’t seem possible to take another one.

“We need her capable of talking,” Ronny scolded, yanking the flashlight back. “But I love your passion and dedication to this family,” she said, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Why don’t you go keep an eye outside while Blair and I have a little chat?”

We both listened to him leave.

I was still trying to draw a proper breath when Ronny turned to place the flashlight on its end so the light shined upward, illuminating our little corner of the garage.

Her hands patted her pockets, finding her pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

“You know what is driving me nuts?” she asked as she started to pace in front of me, seemingly confident in my inability to get up.

“Why the hell were you squatting in that hellhole? Was it a guilty conscience? Knowing you lived a floor above Nico when you were going to sell him out?” She took a long drag.

“Or were you worried a bullet meant for him might find its way into your swanky apartment?”

“Keep wondering,” I said, glaring at her as my cheek and rib throbbed.

“I guess it doesn’t matter. Just tell me where the papers are so we can be done here. I have a house on the beach waiting to be snatched off the market.”

“How can you be so cold?” I asked. “He saw you as a mother figure. And you’re going to get him murdered.”

“He had everything . While me and Tom, we slaved away day in and day out to barely have two nickels to rub together at the end of the month.”

“He had money,” I agreed. “But he didn’t have a mother .”

“It wasn’t my job to be that to him.”

“I’d be impressed with your ability to compartmentalize things. If it wasn’t so evil. You watched him grow up.”

“Not my problem he went into the family business.”

“Wow.”

“It’s amazing how motivating a couple million dollars can be.

And now you are the only one standing between me and the life of luxury.

I won’t let you stand in my way much longer.

” She paused her pacing to look down at me for a long minute.

“Matt has barely been in the grave. And you’re already shacking up with another man. ”

“Your husband was still alive when you screwed around on him.”

“Did Matt tell you that?” she asked, jaw going tight.

“Your sister, actually. You shouldn’t make your margaritas so strong if you want people to keep your secrets.”

God, it felt good to snap back at her.

After years of swallowing back my true feelings, of letting her say horrible things about me, but never clapping back because I didn’t want to piss off Matthew.

“Your other sister mentioned making out with Tom once on Christmas Day ten years ago.”

That certainly got her attention.

But she was quick to squash the shock and anger down.

“You’re not going to distract me. Where are the files?”

What was my play here?

If I kept playing dumb, she was going to bring Danny in. And I really, really didn’t want that to happen.

If I could just buy some time, maybe Nico could find me.

There was the one camera in the hallway. Once he got home to find me gone, surely he would have had Zeno checked the cameras.

From there, he would have the whole family running down leads.

Surely, someone would be able to see what a great place the garage at the port would be to take someone against their will.

In a place like the city, there weren’t many locations you could take someone to potentially torture and murder them.

He would come.

I just had to give him a chance to save me.

“Where are they?” Ronny yelled, lunging toward me.

And suddenly the idea came to me.

A rush of uncertainty and embarrassment flooded my system. I choked it back, sucked in as deep a breath as possible, then screamed.

Not a normal ‘don’t hurt me’ scream. But a blood-curdling, horror movie scream.

Ronny jumped back, brows scrunched.

“Don’t eat me!” I yelled, swatting at the air in front of me.

In many dangerous situations, the answer to safety was simply to be too crazy to mess with.

“Eat you?” Ronny repeated, tone uncertain.

“No! No! Leave me alone!” I yelled, throwing myself onto my back and kicking my legs out. “You and your beasts.” I turned to the shadows at the side of the room. “Please. Please, leave me alone. You don’t want to do this. No. No!”

“Christ,” Ronny hissed, dropping her cigarette and snuffing it out with her toe. “Should have dosed you myself. Danny’s always going overboard. Well, enjoy your delusions,” she said, grabbing her flashlight and walking away.

I kept yelling and mumbling and growling for long enough that I was sure no one was listening anymore.

Then I collapsed, crying out the pain that had been stabbing at me with every movement.

The rough ground was biting into my cheek. But I couldn’t find the strength to lift my head.

The adrenaline that surged during the confrontation seemed sapped. And all the nice, pain-relieving benefits of it slipped away as well, leaving me hyper-aware of the banging in my head, the stabbing sensation in my eyes, the throbbing on my cheek, and the shooting pain in my ribs.

The nausea returned as well, a constant rolling, then retching, but with no relief.

At some point, I pushed myself onto my back again. And as I stared at the darkness, the shadows seemed to creep closer, starting to dance.

Maybe the hallucination act wasn’t so much of an act after all.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ground myself, to focus on what was real. My pain. The hard floor beneath me. My hammering heartbeat. The cold sweat on my face and neck.

Slowly but surely, the panic crept away.

I layered in my focus on my legs, willing them to cooperate, to bend and brace.

Little by little, they did.

Was it slow? Did they feel fat and rubbery? Did each small movement seem to sap more of my energy?

Yes to all.

But there was no time to wallow.

I might still have faith that Nico was coming—even as the sky lost the blush of sunset and settled into inky darkness—but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t try to save myself. Or, at the very least, delay my potential torture.

When I was on my knees, I reached out toward a load-bearing beam, wrapping my arms around it in a tight hug that made my ribs scream. Then I pulled.

And if I screamed, so what?

Ronny would probably think I was still fighting with creatures that wanted to eat me.

Sweat poured down every inch of me with the effort. But what felt like a lifetime later, my feet were on the ground and my legs were (mostly) holding my weight.

“Okay. Alright,” I whispered to myself, taking a few deep breaths.

“It’s not that far,” I added, glancing toward the door all the way at the other end of the parking garage.

Which was, roughly, the length of a football field.

But, hey, being delusional might just be what got me out of this mess of a situation.

I crept across the floor, wincing as things nipped and scraped at the bottom of my feet.

First order of business when I got out of this: tetanus booster. Then a long bath. A couple of ibuprofen. And a big hug from Nico. Not necessarily in that order.

It felt like an insurmountable distance. But I took it on one shuffling step at a time, watching the parked cars loom larger as I got closer.

I wondered if anyone had been hassled enough trying to manage their bags and kids to forget to lock their car.

Maybe I could get inside one and sit down for a few minutes, try to get my strength back before continuing on. Or just lock the doors and hunker down if I didn’t feel strong enough to continue on.

“Almost,” I murmured to myself, almost able to touch a large SUV if I put my hand out.

But just when I thought I might get a break, the light pierced through the darkness and I could hear Ronny’s rushed footsteps as she came up behind me.

Pain sliced across my scalp as she grabbed a handful of my hair, wrapped it around her fist, and yanked down hard, forcing me to lower if I wanted to ease the pain.

Tears pricked my eyes as my knees landed hard and hope deflated in my chest.

“More grit than I thought you’d have. But not as much as me.”

“Grit,” I spat. “Like killing your own son.”

Those words had her dropping my hair.

I just barely resisted the urge to reach out and rub my aching scalp.

“I would never kill my Matty.” Her voice cracked. And I almost wanted to feel sorry for her. If she wasn’t actively plotting to have the man I had fallen for killed. Along with everyone he knew and loved.

“Then why is he dead?”

“It was his own fault,” she said, sniffling hard. “He was getting cold feet. We finally got a buyer… and Matt backed out, hid the paperwork, got rid of his laptop.”

Matt had a change of heart?

That was something I was going to unpack later.

“I got the threat. But Matty didn’t answer his phone. And then…”

“You might not have pulled the trigger, but you did get him killed.”

“I had nothing to do with it!”

“It was all your idea. Matthew never would have come up with that plan.” Not out of loyalty, but because his mind just didn’t work that way.

“If he’d just gone along with it…” She trailed off, sniffing again.

Did it feel wrong to poke at her with the death of her firstborn? Yes. But this was survival. I had to do what I had to do.

“Yeah, who’d have thought that Matthew would have some integrity.”

“He was a good man. The best,” Ronny snapped.

“He plotted the murder of his best friend, the man who’d always been there for him, who gave him money with no questions asked, who gave him a place to stay, who—”

“Matty deserved to—” Ronny started.

But there was a noise that had us both sucking in our breath.

Pop-pop-pop.

“Ma!” Danny yelled, sounding pained.

“No!” Ronny shrieked. “Not my baby!”

I didn’t stop.

I turned and rushed toward one of the cars, then flattened myself down and shuffled under, body tense, as more cries, yells, and gunshots rang out.

Alone, trapped under a car, I tried to focus on breathing, on slowing it down, on not making myself pass out from hyperventilation.

Then, out of nowhere, light flicked on, illuminating the whole parking garage.

“Blair?” a familiar voice called out.

But this time, a welcome one.

The only one I wanted to hear.