Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Fourteen

Isabella

I turn the coffee cup around in my hands constantly, my palms warmed from the paper cup that never ceases to spin. It’s hard not to feel anxious, like I’m waiting for a blind date to show up, but the longer the morning passes, the more I think Sam plans to blow me off. I don’t blame her; she’s worried about me and not a fan of Carter in the slightest, but it’s not like he’s here breathing down my neck.

In fact, he doesn’t know I’m here at all. He went to work after his long overnight meeting with the family, and he won’t be back until the late afternoon. I grabbed my laptop on the way out of the house, borrowed Anita’s car on the sworn secrecy of me leaving the house, and have been waiting here ever since.

Aunt Anita was kind enough to lend the car to Carter and me for practice, and while driving through the city is terrifying, it does offer a smidge of freedom.

Carter took my cherry red sports car after the Lacey incident. Driving alone isn’t allowed anymore, not until things cool down, but I know that may never happen.

It’s raining in Manhattan, the hospital eyeing me from across the street. My father is probably in bed, watching the water trickle down his window. I need to go check on him, but it won’t make much of a difference to him. He’s always sleepier on rainy days, which means the confusion is more severe than normal.

I would only upset myself if I visited him today.

But it might be better than nothing.

Eventually, I push my screen down on my laptop, tired of browsing through the news articles that are trending through the city today. I haven’t read anything too terrible yet. Most of the news about the election is starting to veer into Killian Hughes and his band of campaign brothers, but even then, it’s nothing that would shock anyone.

The news about Carter isn’t great, but I have yet to see anything truly damning.

Whatever Tristan was worried about might just turn out to be nothing.

“Hey, familiar face,” a voice hums from beside my table. I didn’t even notice them before, but looking up now, I see Rich Donahue standing by my chair, a coffee clutched in his hand. “You like the coffee here, too?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. It’s next to the hospital where my dad is, so I always just come here. What are you doing downtown?”

He shrugs, pointing to the chair across the table from me. “Mind if I sit?”

“Go ahead.”

Once he’s settled in and done taking a long drink of his warm coffee, he rests his elbows on the table casually. “I was going to the docks to check on the building. They can’t do too much in the rain; it’s a lightning risk right now, but I like to keep an eye on it. Seems like Carter’s family is doing the same.”

I shiver slightly. “Yeah, he has been having his guys go look at it every so often. Tristan went last night, but I don’t know what for.” I have the sudden urge to stop talking, my mind hazy with the idea that maybe I shouldn’t share this with Rich. But he doesn’t seem to care, his focus more on the coffee than it is on the looming eyes of Carter’s family. “How is that place, by the way? I haven’t been there since…”

He gives me a knowing look. “Yeah, it’s alright. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I know the history involved. I do want to apologize for it, though.”

“It’s not your fault. You weren’t even associated with your brother at the time.”

“True, but it doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad about it. My family has always been a tough subject for me to talk about. I’m sure it’s been worse for you to have to live through it all. It sounded horrific.”

“It was hard,” I mutter. “I didn’t know if I would make it out alive or not. Carter saved me, he really did.”

Smiling softly, he leans forward over the table ever so gently. “He’s a good guy, Isabella.”

“I know that.”

“You don’t seem to believe it right now. I can tell by the way you look away. Your eyes. They look sad. You seem to be withdrawn, too, and I can only imagine it has to do with my last visit.”

I look over the soft burn on my skin that has healed since that incident. “No, of course not. Carter isn’t upset about that anymore. It was a misunderstanding, nothing more. He just likes to think that I’m always in harm’s way. He wouldn’t be wrong sometimes, but with the Laceys gone, I think I’m as safe as ever.”

He grins with such assurance. “I agree completely. It’s a nicer city with my brother and father out of it. They were always into something they couldn’t handle. They even dragged my sister into it. She’s been missing for a while, but that’s a story for another day.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” My brows pinch. “So, can you handle it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gained their messes. Is it too much for you to handle, or not?”

He thinks over my question for a long, quiet moment. I can’t help but see Jacob in his face, the resemblance threatening a tremor down my back that normally would send my alarm bells off. But I don’t let it show. There are no real red flags with Rich Donahue other than his lineage, and he’s told me that he’s rejected them as a family already.

He’s harmless, and being handed a horrible family aftermath of a mess isn’t his fault.

“I think I’m doing okay,” he says at last, sipping his coffee in short spurts. “It’s been a challenge at times. I never thought Carter would agree to work with me, and I was certain he would have killed me instead, but he seems okay with it now. You know him best, Isabella. How does he seem?”

I play with the cold surface of my laptop in front of me, my coffee empty and useless for me to fidget with at this point. “I don’t actually know. He is okay with you and your family now, I guess. It’s not the same as when we were under attack, and they were trying to hurt me or kill Carter. It’s just been different, I guess. We have other problems on the horizon.”

He looks perplexed. “Really, like what?”

I stifle and inhale, knowing for sure that I can’t divulge any of that. He seems to understand my tensile body language because he holds his hands up in mock surrender, shaking his head.

“No, no, forget I asked that. I shouldn’t be probing. Carter wouldn’t appreciate that, so maybe it can be our secret.”

I toy with my fingers now, running out of physical distractions that can help me distance myself from this talk. “He doesn’t know I’m here, actually. I won’t tell him about it or that I saw you; don’t worry.”

He tips his head sideways. “Is everything okay?”

His question has me confused. “Yeah, everything is fine.”

“I meant, are you okay?”

Twiddling my thumbs, I want to nod and say I’m fine, but I’m not. I can’t even pinpoint why that is, either. It seems petulant, trying to act like everything is fine and nothing is looming through my mind at all hours, but that’s a lie. I have a lot of reasons to be worried about the future, about what’s coming for my new family, and I’m too scared to even ask Carter about it all.

He wants to shield me as always, but that’s not the best idea right now. We can walk around this city and not fear Jacob Lacey, and that’s a huge step in the right direction, but that doesn’t mean we are in the clear. We have a lot to deal with now—things that I don’t even have a full grasp of yet—and it’s not going well.

It’s like Jacob Lacey was the gatekeeper to the plethora of problems behind him. Now, we have opened the can of worms, and dirt is everywhere. I can’t clean it up fast enough. Carter won’t tell me where they all are, and Tristan is trying to warn me of the impending mess.

It’s not good enough. I don’t know enough.

I don’t think I’m enough to stop it all, either.

I blink back tears that are already rolling down my cheeks, and Rich looks shocked by the sight. He grabs a few napkins and hands them over, his eyes wide while I try to compose myself as quickly as I had unraveled.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“No, don’t apologize,” he breathes.

“I’m a little stressed out, that’s all. I feel like something bad is going to happen, but I don’t know what it is yet. It’s annoying, and it’s constant, but no one will clue me in. It’s like knowing a storm is coming but not knowing what kind. Should I take cover or find high ground? I just don’t know.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea it was that bad, Isabella. I shouldn’t have brought any of this up to begin with.”

“It’s fine. It’s just Carter,” I say, shaking all over like I’m drenched in cold rainwater outside. “He acts so furtive these days and demands to know everything, but he’s not giving me an ounce of information. I don’t know what to think when he shuts down, but it’s happening more and more lately. I’m scared it’s going to affect us if something bad happens, and we aren’t strong enough to withstand it.”

“You are, I’m sure of it.”

“How are you so sure? You don’t know us?”

He nods slightly, pushing his coffee aside as an afterthought. “I know you. You and I are alike in a lot of ways. I was tormented by my brother for years growing up, and when I stopped communicating with him, it was like peace again. I also have a lot on my plate with my mother being sick, like your father, and I have to deal with Carter, too. He’s not an easy man to read, and sometimes I think he’d rather shoot me than work with me.”

I wave him off, trying to change the subject.

Not because it’s hard to talk about, but because he’s right.

“It’s nothing,” I admit. “I’m sorry I mentioned any of this. I’m just a little emotional today. It’s been difficult bottling everything up from Carter, and I was going to tell my best friend Sam, but I guess she decided to bail today. I asked her to meet me here hours ago.”

“She didn’t show?”

“No, and I don’t think she ever will. She’s distant because of Carter. I can’t blame her, but I feel more alone than ever. I have new neighbors I could talk to, but they think I’m a gold digger and nothing but a poor woman sleeping her way into a wealthy relationship. They wouldn’t welcome me as a friend, and the only friend I thought I had isn’t even willing to meet for coffee.”

He bows his head in similar defeat. “That’s a lot to deal with, Isabella. I’m sorry everything is turning out this way. I wish I could help more, but I can offer to take you home if you want.”

“I have a car in the lot down the street, actually, but thank you for the offer, Rich.”

He holds up his umbrella, something I didn’t even think to grab on my way out the door this morning. “Can I walk you to your car, then?”

I stare at the rain that has picked up in pace. It’s pouring buckets outside, and I’ll be soaking wet by the time I get to Anita’s car in the back lot. Rich has been pleasant enough and seems normal to the point of trusting. He’s not like his brother at all, even if the resemblance is uncanny. But his demeanor is nothing like Jacob’s. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to opening up to him so easily. Even if he was only an unexpected fill-in for Sam, I have found a bit of relief talking to him today.

“Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”

He opens the umbrella at the front door and holds it over us both, but I notice his shoulder gets drenched when we step out into the downpour. He ignores the water flicking onto his neck and keeps it over my head mostly, taking the direction where I’m parked with ease.

“Over there,” I breathe, turning the corner to point at the borrowed car, only to see Lorenzo and Tristan leaning against the soaking wet car. They both lack umbrellas, their eyes finding mine in an instant. They hardly look pleased, either. “Wait,” I say, stopping short.

They both cross the lot and sprint toward us, Tristan’s fists grabbing Rich’s shirt while Lorenzo rips me away from the Donahue boss. He’s pinned to the nearest brick wall, and any effort to be dry has gone to the wayside. The umbrella falls from Rich’s hands and floats down the sidewalk canal of flooding, my heart punching into my throat at the cold rush that the rain brings with it.

My laptop falls to the ground, ruined in the rain while I try to break this fight up, but it’s met with fierce opposition from Rich, who tells me to back up.

It doesn’t stop Tristan and Lorenzo from cornering him, though.

An opposing force of men comes rushing forward to break up the fight, and Rich tries to calm them down throughout the confrontation, but it’s not helping. The impression of pistols on hips and tucked into waistbands of every guy in this fight now is evident.

Tristan and Lorenzo are not just outmanned—they’re outgunned.

“Wait, can everyone calm down?” I shout, speaking over the splashing of tires in the street nearby. “What is going on here? Guys, I’m fine. Why did you just come up and push him like that?”

Lorenzo looks less than pleased as he replies, “Tristan wanted to see if Sam was coming to meet you. We drove by, saw Anita’s car here, and thought maybe she was nearby. Seeing you with him just triggered our concern, that’s all.”

“I’m fine,” I say, blinking back the rain that hits my eyes. “Rich, who are these guys?”

“They’re my family. I told them to pick me up on the way home so I’d have a ride from the coffee shop. They dropped me off down the street, and I got my coffee. They must have seen the fight and jumped in.”

“Sorry, boss,” one of the guys says, agreeing to that alibi. “It looked like they were going to rough you up. We had to step in.”

I run my hands through my hair, exhausted from this trouble already. “Okay, let’s just separate and forget this happened, please. We need to be working together, right? Not fighting in the parking lot like a bunch of heathens. Let’s just break it up before anyone sees and blows this out of proportion.”

“Too late,” Tristan says, staring across the street at a woman in heels with a large camera mounted before her eyes. She walks briskly away into the crowd before Lorenzo and one of Rich’s guys can even get across the street. But it’s clear that Tristan is right.

It’s too late.

“Fuck,” I say, looking at Rich. “Carter’s going to be pissed if he hears about this.”