Chapter Seven
There comesa time in life when you can’t expect anyone to be your savior, instead, you have to save yourself. And that time was now.
“How do I know you aren’t one of Victor’s guys?”
He shrugged and kept eating. “You don’t. That’s the smartest question you’ve asked yet.” He chewed and swallowed, wiping the spaghetti sauce from his chin with the back of his hand, then lifted a fork in my direction. “Thinking like that just might keep you alive.”
Imposter or not, I didn’t trust him. If Teddy and this ledger detailing the laundered money were the only reason Hugh was sitting at my table eating my leftovers for tomorrow, then there was no reason not to give him what he was after. What did I care if he got his hands on the hypothetical ledger? It was stolen money, after all.
I dug my fingernails into my palms as anger stirred in my gut. The devil on my shoulder nudged a little deeper. Not giving this guy the ledger might just be the only thing keeping me alive, assuming I could actually find it.
“I’m going to go see if I have one of Teddy’s shirts packed up.”
“You need any help?” Hugh asked, wincing while trying to stand.
“Nope. You keep eating, and we’ll rewrap your wound when I’m done.”
Hugh eased back down into the chair. “He told me you were beautiful, but he didn’t tell me you had a kind soul.”
“I don’t,” I said, leaving him in the kitchen. I jogged upstairs and pulled down the ceiling stairs that led to the attic. Climbing up the steps, I paused inside the room overrun with cobwebs.
Boxes stacked on boxes were pressed against the wall. I might not be the most organized person, but I kept everything like a packrat, and it was probably good I did. Had I not and been angry at Teddy, I might have burned the ledger. The thought had crossed my mind to do that to all of his things, after discovering his betrayal.
Gram’s old rocking chair sat in the corner of the room. One of the wooden spindles were gone. I rubbed at the indention in the chair’s arm as I passed.
The chair had been well used over time, and the wear and tear called to me like a beacon.
Grams would know what to do. She always did.
In a perfect universe, the rehearsal dinner wouldn’t have been cancelled and I could have asked her how to handle all of this.
Lord knew she loved to give her opinions.
Next to the chair sat an old trunk that Grams had gifted to me long ago. I slid down to my knees and ran my finger over the design carved into the wood.
“She’s always had great taste.” I lifted the lid and smiled down at the satin and lace wedding gown stashed inside. I’d been the only sister growing up to even care about the gown. I’d begged Grams for years to have it so that when I found my guy, I could wear it down the aisle.
I’d been so naïve back then. Those days would never come.
Heat crept into my cheeks, remembering the day Teddy came home to find me wearing the dress with the zipper stuck. He’d thought I’d started planning a future wedding when he’d no desire to propose.
A smile split my lips. I’d looked like a crazy lunatic.
I moved on to a shoe box sitting beside the gown to find what I was looking for. The revolver that Grams had gifted me as my first gun. She was versatile that way. Giving each of us a present when we’d graduated and a gun before shipping us off to college. Protection and family mattered most to her, and she’d instilled the idea into each of us.
I shoved the gun into the waistband of my jeans and pulled the shirt over it, keeping it out of sight.
Closing the lid, I moved to the boxes and began my search for the elusive box with Teddy’s name. The one where all of the leftover things got thrown inside after most of his belongings had been moved out.
I pulled open the third to the last box and sighed in relief. Inside was a framed picture of Teddy and me. He’d claimed it was his favorite. We were both happy and smiling in the picture.
I ran my finger over his face. Not because I missed him but because the thought of him dead sat heavy on my heart. No matter his mistakes, he hadn’t deserved to die.
I pulled out a couple of shirts and a jacket and had set them aside when I felt the necklace box. I pulled it out and popped it open. Sitting inside on a bed of satin was a necklace he’d given to me on my twenty-fifth birthday a couple years ago. The beautiful locket pendant had a lighthouse etched into the piece. He claimed that, like the lighthouse, I was the light in his darkness.
Why hadn’t he trusted me with the truth? The anger I’d harbored over the last two years at his betrayal was now a gentle simmer.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Hugh asked from behind me.
