Vengeful Secret (The Burkes Mafia #3)

4. Gray

4

GRAY

Sutton comes out of the bathroom without her friend and bolts toward the back door.

I bite my lip, wondering if she’s leaving for good, trying to avoid me.

She’s been glancing over at me all night, making me think that maybe she just might come over.

My heart races, and I’m not sure what I even want her to do. Do I want her to come over? Do I want her to stay away?

I’d been real with her friend, told her that I was only interested in Sutton, and the friend hadn’t asked any questions, just smiled.

“As you should,” she said. “She's the best of all of us."

Sutton seems to have good friends, and I’m glad for her.

I shouldn’t go up to her, try to chase her. I shouldn’t even have sent over those free drinks or paid their tab. I’m probably bothering her while she’s having a night out.

But I’m so curious as to what she’s up to now, if she still thinks of me like I still think of her. It’s been five years, and I still can’t get her off my mind.

I asked for a distraction, didn’t I? The universe plopped one down in my lap. Who am I to ignore it?

“You look like you’re about to make whiskey-influenced choices.” Nessa smirks at me.

“I don’t think it’s the whiskey.”

“What is it, then?”

“Maybe just stupidity.” I give her a sheepish grin, and she smiles.

“You know, Gray, if I weren’t married?—”

“I know, you’d run away with me.” I’m almost giddy, and I don’t think it’s the alcohol. I think it’s seeing Sutton again, the possibility of talking to her, maybe even kissing her.

Wait.

No. I’m not going to pull her back into this lifestyle. Besides, she left before. Why would it be different this time?

Nessa already has my card to pay for the girls’ tab, so I stand up and head out the back door just as Sutton exits it.

The night air hits me in the face, surprisingly cold, and I’m glad I thought to wear a jacket.

Sutton, on the other hand, is shivering at the corner, scrolling through her phone and frowning.

I walk up behind her and take off my jacket, draping it around her shoulders.

She turns slowly, looking up at me.

“Gray,” she breathes, and I’m not sure if it's excitement or annoyance in her voice.

Looking down at her now, seeing her like this, her blue-gray eyes wide, I can’t deny that she’s not just a distraction. She’s so much more.

I’ve thought about her all the time, every day for five years, and now I’m second-guessing myself.

“Gotta go,” she mutters, and takes off my jacket, thrusting it back into my arms. She starts to walk across the street.

“Sutton!” I call out, and she freezes.

After what seems like the longest moment, she turns, having just stepped off the curb, and something on her face seems almost… resigned.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but my heart is beating in my ears, and all I want to do is get her inside.

She takes a couple of steps back toward me, and I drape my jacket back around her shoulders. She looks up at me, huffing out a breath, and I can’t help but smile down at her.

“Come inside. Let’s talk,” I suggest in a low tone.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please? I just want to catch up, I promise. No expectations.”

She looks up at me, biting her lip, conflict evident in her expression.

My heart sinks.

She’s not going to say yes.

But this time, she doesn’t wrench the jacket off and throw it at me, so I guess that’s a good sign. I’m not sure what changed her mind, but I’m glad that she’s come back.

I take her over to the corner of the bar where there are two empty stools.

She slides onto one, and I sit down next to her, hailing Nessa.

“Just a single this time,” I tell her. “

“And for the lady?” She raises an eyebrow at me, but I ignore her.

“A cosmopolitan. House vodka is fine.”

I frown. “Give her top-shelf.”

Sutton sighs. “You don’t have to buy the expensive stuff, Gray. It all tastes the same with all that juice.”

I chuckle. “Maybe so, but the top-shelf will stop you from having such a headache tomorrow.”

She hums. “Maybe you’re right. I can’t afford to have much of a headache.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Do you have work?”

“Always. I’m a single mom.”

“O-oh.”

I knew there was a chance she might be married, divorced, have kids, but I guess I hadn’t really thought that’d be true.

Still, I'm grateful that she said single mom instead of just saying she had a kid, because I probably would have had an aneurysm trying to figure out if she’s married or not. “Boy or girl?”

Her smile widens. “Girl. Her name is Ciara.”

“That’s a beautiful name, Sutton.”

“Thank you. What about you? Married? Kids?”

I scoff. “Nothing like that. I’ve got a new niece, though.”

Her eyes widen. “One of your sisters? Not Lara, surely!”

“Declan.”

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Declan settled down? I can’t believe it, the way you used to talk about him.”

“You and me both.” I chuckle. “Tell me more. What do you do?”

“I’m still a graphic designer, but now I work from home.”

I smile at her.

That’s always been her dream, to be self-employed and doing what she loves.

She flushes slightly, looking away, and a part of me wants to grab her chin, force her to look at me. But that’s not something I can do right now.

She almost ran away from me—I can’t ruin this.

“How are things with you?”

“They’re.... okay,” I lie.

Sutton and I haven’t seen each other in five years.

She’d known Lara in high school, and she’d heard about Declan and Paige, and of course, everyone in this city knows my father. But that is no reason to burden her with my troubles.

Declan was right when he said that Da is on the mend, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still feel a lot of pressure from the responsibility of the clan, and the push for retaliation for what happened to Paige.

I shake all that off. I just want to enjoy the here and now with her.

“That’s lovely.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and I’m quiet, and it’s not quite awkward. It’s more of a comfortable silence, but some part of me still wants to fill it, some part of me aching to tell her everything, to open up to her like I’ve been unable to open up even to my brother.

I thought tonight, with the lubrication of alcohol, Declan and I could talk plainly about things, that I could confess how worried I am about everything. How afraid.

But he left, and Sutton has been my distraction.

“You look…off. If you’d like to talk about it?—”

That opens the floodgates.

“I’m bloody terrified.”

My brain is screaming at me to stop, that this isn’t the right time to break down, but I can’t seem to help it. “Dad is…not his best lately, and I had to step up. And there’s so much pressure from the clan to run everything the way that Da did, but it’s not like he had time to train me into taking over with how quickly everything went down.”

Sutton nods, remaining attentive, silent, allowing me to let it all out.

I shouldn’t be telling her. I shouldn’t be telling anyone , but it’s like it won’t stop coming out of me.

“He almost died , Sutton. He had open-heart surgery, and he was on the ventilator for nearly a week. The doctors didn’t know if he was ever going to wake up. And even now, even awake, he’s weak as a?—”

I’m revealing too much.

But then Sutton puts her hand on my arm, and I realize that she’s not going to tell.

She’d never sell me out. I can trust her.

“You’re probably doing a better job than you know, Gray. You were always good at this kind of thing—running things. You’ve done it before, remember? When your dad was out of the country, visiting home?”

I take a deep breath, nodding. “Sure, but that was for a week. This could be for months.”

“Nevertheless, you know what you’re doing.”

“Do I?”

I’m not so sure. Work has always been the same—we do the shipments. We collect the money. We talk to the right people and suss out the wrong people.

But now, everything’s different. Everything’s secret, my father’s injuries, the fact that I’m taking over... I’m used to secrets being in the Irish mob, of course, but at the same time, I’m not used to this many secrets.

“Of course, you do,” she huffs. “You’ve always been your father’s right-hand man, haven’t you?”

I nod slowly.

“He’s been training you for moments like this, Gray. You’ve got this.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Your men trust you. Your dad trusts you. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have asked you to step up.”

“I guess you’re right,” I murmur. “It’s just…it feels like I never got time to process everything, you know? Da was shot and then suddenly, I was the boss.”

She winces slightly, but her hand moves up to my shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s a lot all at once, Gray. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to be unsure.”

“No, it’s not. If any of the other clans knew that I was struggling?—”

“But they don’t. They don’t know, and they’re not going to. Because I bet you keep it all inside, don’t you?”

I nod.

I’m admitting too much.

For just a brief moment, I’ve let Sutton see who I really am inside, all my fear, not just the facade I present to the world. For a moment, Sutton has been talking to the real me, and that scares the hell out of me.

“You need to work on that, Gray,” Sutton scolds, and I bark out a bitter laugh.

“Not exactly like I can go to therapy.”

“Didn’t that mobster on television go to therapy?”

I blink at her, and then I realize that she’s joking, and I laugh, loud and open.

“I don’t think real life works like television, Sutton.”

She smiles brightly. “Well, you’re doing great. Just trust me on that.”

I grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

She giggles, sipping her cosmopolitan, and I’m struck by her beauty all over again.

I remember what she looks like first thing in the morning, her hair mussed, her eyes puffy. She’s beautiful then, too, maybe even more so, and my heart aches just thinking about it.

“Sutton,” I say in a low tone.

She looks up at me with beautiful blue-gray eyes. “Hmm?”

“I’ve missed you.” I don’t know where it comes from, but as soon as I say it, I know it to be true. I know that I’ve missed her somewhere deep in my bones, somewhere so deep in my heart I tried to bury it myself.

“Gray—”

I hold up a hand. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I missed you, too,” she says quietly.

I lick my lips, looking down at her and trying to decide what to say next. I don’t want to scare her off. I don’t want to upset her.

She looks up at me, her eyes widening slightly, her mouth parting as if she’s about to speak, and I can’t help myself—I lean down to kiss her.