Mind Pucked (Chicago Blue Jays #1)

17. Amelia

17

AMELIA

M y mind is in a million places as I try to process everything that has just happened. I still don’t have the explanation I need so badly from Preston, but he’s here and alive.

I think about Jackson and the reasons I came to him in the first place. I thought my brother was dead and he had something to do with it, but now I’m convinced that Jackson will hate me if he ever figures out that I suspected him.

“You need to explain to me what exactly is going on here,” I say to him as we make our way out of the store after I purchased my dress.

“Let’s find someplace private,” he says as he looks around like he might be looking out for someone…I don’t want to know who.

I nod as I follow him to an ally where a car is parked. He slides into the driver’s seat, and I slide into the passenger. He doesn’t get a key out to drive or anything, we just sit in the car for the longest time before he speaks again. I don’t know if the car even runs, if it’s his, or if this is where he has been living.

“I need to know why you’ve been missing for two years, Preston. It’s not fair,” I say. “I pretty much stopped my life until recently looking for you…or at least looking for a body to go along with the announcement that you were pronounced dead. Do you know how hard it is to mourn for someone who’s dead, but there’s no body to bury?”

“I can’t imagine what you went through…have been going through,” he adds as he turns in the seat to face me. “I get why you’re upset, I would be too.”

“I just don’t understand.” I begin to cry, but I hate the fact that I am. “How could you stay away, Pres?”

I want to cry and run away. I feel like I’m looking at a ghost, one that didn’t want to be found. I would have never known he was alive if I hadn’t come here with Jackson…and he has the audacity to wonder why I’m with Jackson.

“Ami,” he says, using the name he called me all the time. “You’re not going to want to believe me at first, but it’s important that you listen to everything, ask questions if you have them, and know that none of this was meant to hurt you at all.”

I hesitate to say anything to him. What could he have to say to me that’s going to make me not believe him?

I think about getting out of the car and just going back to Jackson. His parents will want to go to dinner tonight, and surely by now he’s told them about us. We have plans. I want to be with them. I feel somewhere in the pit of my stomach that I’m not going to like what my brother has to say to me.

“Go ahead,” I say, motioning for him to carry on quickly.

“It turns out that your father put a hit out for my death,” he says, and already I’m having to pick my jaw up off the ground.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” I say with heat in my voice. “What do you mean my father ? We have the same parents, Pres.”

“We have the same mother,” he admits, as if what he’s about to say isn’t going to change everything. “It turns out that we don’t have the same dad.”

I shake my head in disbelief. Even if this is true…why would my father put a hit out on my brother. A hit? What exactly does that mean?

“I don’t know that I fully understand. Why would our father… my father…put a hit out on you. That means he tried to kill you, right? How would he even know how to do that? Did he kill Lyla? Why would he have done that? Why were you with her?” I ramble, trying to find some puzzle piece that makes sense.

“Well, let me start with one thing at a time.” He smiles a little. “Our mom, when she and your father were first together, had an affair with another man and got pregnant with me.”

“I don’t believe she would do that, Pres.” I frown at him.

“Listen, Mom has been dead since you were little, you don’t know her as well as I do. While I don’t think she was a bad person, I do know that your father cheated on her at every turn, so I don’t rightfully blame her for cheating too,” he admits. “As for the hit…yes, he would know how to do that, but I’ll get to that in a minute. Lyla plays a key role in all this because, Ami…she was my sister too.”

“What?” I breathe, suddenly thinking about Jackson and the part I thought he played in all this, but boy was I wrong.

“Yes,” he says. “Her father is my father. I found out when I did a genealogy thing a few years ago. We came up as a match, as siblings, and they gave us the contact information of the other participants. I found out she was my half sister, and in doing so found out the truth. Working with Jackson only made it easier to be around Lyla more, although…I don’t think she’d told him yet that I was her brother—she was worried about his reaction given our rivalry. She was planning on telling him, after she and I met up a few times to do some digging into our father, and that’s why I was with her the day the hit came through. I don’t know if it was meant for her too, or just me, but when I got out of that car, she was unconscious, and I could tell there was nothing I could do for her. I called to make sure an ambulance was on the way, but then I had to get out of there if I wanted to live.”

“What about me?” I wonder with heat in my cheeks. “You could have figured out how to let me know you were alive.” Our eyes meet across the space in the car.

Hot tears and anger course through me, and I wish that anger could be replaced with something less painful. I don’t know who to be angry at, but I need to be mad.

“I didn’t want to risk your father figuring out that you knew. I didn’t want you involved in all of this,” he says. “I didn’t want Lyla involved in any of this either, but that was unavoidable.”

“I still don’t get why or how all this has happened,” I say. “He’s just a businessman.” At least, up until now, that’s all I’ve ever known my father to be.

He’s made a great deal of money through the years, and I’ve enjoyed the life he gave us. I spent some time abroad, and it was all thanks to him. How am I supposed to believe he’s some kind of monster? Is he a monster?

“When I was younger, your father—who I thought was mine at the time—told me things…secrets. I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone…not even you,” he says softly, as if someone might hear us. “Being not only the oldest child, but the oldest son, he expected me to take over for him at some point.”

“Take over what?” I ask him, and for some reason, I feel like I should know what he’s talking about.

It’s almost like what he’s trying to say, or rather not say, is sitting at the edge of my mind. I don’t want to believe it, so I discount the idea right away. Things like this don’t actually happen in real life, do they?

“Ami…” Preston pauses and looks me over before he continues. “Your father is one of the most notorious criminals in the greater Chicago area, and in the United States. He’s a Mafia don and expected me to take over for him when the time was right.”

I sit dumbfounded, not knowing what to say. The Mafia? These things only happen in books and movies, right?

I think about my dad and who he is to me. He’s always been a teddy bear. Sure, he makes me treat our stepmother like my own mom, but I was so little when our mother died that I barely remember her. My mind flashes through everything Preston has said. What’s sad is that if this is all true, Dad told me to come home and stop looking because already knew that Preston wasn’t dead…there was no body.

“So, let me get this right. Our mother cheated on my father and got pregnant with you. Then you learn that he’s part of the Mafia and you’re supposed to grow up to take his place, but then you find out he’s not your father, and you find Lyla, who is your sister…” I pause, trying to wrap my mind around it all. “Then my father decides to order a hit on you because now you’re not his son, and you know too much, and he was worried you’d spill your guts or something. In the meantime, the hit killed Lyla—your sister, Jackson’s wife—and just about killed you, but resulted in you hiding out for these past couple years and pretending to be dead?”

“Pretty much,” is all he says at first. “I’ve been trying to find a way to get your father off my case…or make him pay for this, but in the end I haven’t been too focused on that aspect, because I don’t want to take your only living parent away from you.”

“I don’t know how much of a parent he is, Pres,” I say with a frown. “But I do have a question. You know how I’ve always said our mom’s death seems fishy? Even when I was a kid, I thought that. There just isn’t much explanation behind it…ya know?”

“Yeah,” he says, trying to leave room for me to make this revelation on my own, but I don’t know that I want to.

“You don’t think he killed her, do you?” I blurt out. “I mean, if he was going to kill you and he did kill Lyla…do you think he had our mother killed when he found out she cheated on him or something?” I don’t know if I want to know the answer or not.

He pauses to think about my words. I can see the wheels in his brain turning. The look on his face turns sad as he mulls it over. I don’t mean to cause him pain, but all of this is a bit too much for me to process on my own.

“Yeah, I do think it’s possible,” he admits. “I’ve thought about it for a long while now. Knowing he’s a don leaves a lot of room for a lot of things, but as soon as he told me, questions sparked in my mind, including that very thought. I’m pretty damn sure that he either killed or had her killed—just as sure as I am that he’ll have you killed if you say anything to anyone about this.”

“I’m not going to say anything, Pres,” I say with a frown. “It doesn’t mean that I won’t think about my next move regarding my father, but I won’t say a word. He wants me to come home soon, but now I’m not so sure that’s something I want. Jackson and I are in a relationship, and I care a great deal for him, and his daughter Hayden.”

“I remember Hayden,” he says softly. “Such a cute little girl…she’d be my niece you know.” He seems sad that he never got the time to be the uncle that little girl deserves.

“I guess so,” I say. “I care about them a lot. If I think for a second that they’re at risk of getting hurt, I will hurt someone first.” A protective feeling courses through me that I just can’t remember ever feeling before.

He looks at me as if judging my words. I hope he knows they’re true. Jackson and Hayden mean the world to me. I just hate that this whole time I’ve thought Jackson had something to do with Preston’s death. If only I’d known it was my father who had something to do with it, I’d never have started a relationship with Jackson under false pretenses. But then, maybe I’d never have fallen for him at all…

“Listen…” Preston pauses as he reaches for my phone and begins typing something into it. “I’m going to give you my cell number. It’s a burner phone and I put myself under Hockey Bro, so if your dad does see your phone, he won’t know it’s me.

“Thanks,” I say, but I don’t know if I’ll ever call him for any reason.

“You’re welcome. I think you need to head back—it looks like he’s tried to get ahold of you several times,” he adds, handing my phone back to me. “For now, only say what you have to, but I’d love it if you could keep my secret for the time being…until I can get things figured out on my end.”

I nod as I reach for the bag with my shoes in it. I don’t know that I’m in the mood for shopping anymore, and it looks like it’s about to rain. I get out of the car without saying another word.

I hope I’m able to see my brother again, but if I don’t, I pray he can figure things out for himself. I’m still processing everything he’s told me, but finally, all the pieces fit together. My father is a monster.

I didn’t know before now, but now I know exactly who my father is, and every part of me is screaming to stay as far away as I can.

As I walk away from the car and head back toward the vacation home, all I can think about is Jackson and that little girl I care so much about—I’m going to make sure they’re protected from all of this, if it’s the last thing I do.