Vengeful Secret (The Burkes Mafia #3)

7. Sutton

7

SUTTON

Gray is out of my life, so why can’t he just stay out of my head too?

There’s no reason to think about him. I’m going to stay away from him. For good.

On the way home from a shopping trip, I get a call, and I answer it with my Bluetooth. “Hi, Sarah.”

“Sutton. We’ve got to meet up.”

“Do we?”

“I know you went home with that guy who paid our tab. I saw you sneak toward the back with him. You’ve got to tell me all about it.”

“I didn’t go home with him.”

“Something happened.” She huffs. “And it’s your job as my friend to entertain me with your crazy love life.”

I chuckle. “I’m tired today. Can we do this another time?”

“Come on,” she whines. “It’s been a couple weeks already, and you keep avoiding me. I’ll pay for dinner. You can take some home for Ciara. We can meet at Joe’s diner.”

My stomach growls… Joe’s has some of the best chicken wings this side of the country.

I groan. “All right, all right. I’ll see you in fifteen?”

“With bells on,” she chirps and hangs up.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile.

Sarah can be a pain in the butt, but she also is one of those people it’s impossible to be angry with. Everything just rolls off her back. Somehow, she ends up always getting what she wants.

And I’m happy enough to talk to her. I’m not going to go into my past with Gray, but it’ll be easy enough to tell her about the sex in the nightclub.

My stomach tightens just thinking about it, how rough and hot it was, but with an edge of sweetness.

Gray’s words have given me a lot to think about, but I know I’ve made the right decision.

I’m staying away from Gray Burke. For good.

I call my mother to let her know I’ll pick up dinner and that I’ll be running a few errands.

“Pick up that ice cream that I like, would you?”

“Butter pecan?”

“That’s the one. Thanks, honey.”

“Sure.” I make a mental note to swing by the grocery store after eating.

Sarah already has a booth waiting for me when I arrive at the diner, and she waves frantically to me when I walk in, like I wouldn’t recognize her or something.

I chuckle at her antics and slide into the booth across from her.

“I already ordered home fries for Ciara and those extra hot buffalo wings that you love.”

“Honestly, Sarah, sometimes you can be an angel on Earth.”

She pouts. “What do you mean, sometimes?”

I chuckle. “I am sorry I ditched you guys the other night.”

“You have to make up for it by telling me everything .”

I look around the diner to make sure no one’s listening, lowering my voice. “We hooked up in the bathroom.”

Sarah squeals. “Oh my God, that’s so dirty but so hot! Was it as fun as it sounds.”

“It was amazing.” That much is true, but of course, the problem with me and Gray had never been physical. “But I’m not going to see him again.”

“Why not?” She frowns. “He seems like a big spender, and he’s good in bed, obviously.”

“That’s not all that I’m looking for in a man, Sarah.”

“What else is there?” It’s like she really can’t imagine wanting anything else.

I laugh. “Well, for one, do you know who he is?”

“No.” She pauses, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Is he famous or something?"

“More like infamous. He's part of the Burke clan.”

“He is not,” she gasps. “Like as in, the Irish mob?”

“One and the same.”

“God, that's even hotter!”

I shake my head. “Maybe to you, but I have Ciara to worry about. I can’t be dating men in the mob, Sarah.”

She looks utterly disappointed but then she nods. “I guess you’re right. It’s certainly a good memory to have, though. Good story to tell.”

“Yeah.” But there’s something bittersweet about thinking of Gray as a memory, as a story. I want so much more than that, even if I’m not supposed to. I sigh and then try to change the subject as our food comes. “What about you? Did you find someone to go home with?”

“Not exactly. But I did get a couple of numbers.”

I smile. “That’s great!”

“It would be, if either of them would text me back,” she says glumly. “It’s so hard to meet people these days.”

“Next time, I’ll be your wing woman.”

Her eyes widen. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I would.”

Sarah beams at me, and I remember why we’re such close friends. She’s a lovely person, underneath her outgoing persona, and she’s always been there for me when I needed her.

And she’s never once asked questions about Ciara’s father, which I appreciate.

I dig into my wings, but something raises the hair at the nape of my neck.

I’m not sure what it is, so I frown, turning around to see if maybe someone is staring at me.

All the other restaurant patrons seem focused on their food, but something just feels... off.

“Is there a weird vibe in here, or is it just me?"

Sarah’s brows draw together. She’s clearly puzzled. “I think it’s just you, babe. It’s Joe’s as always.”

I roll my shoulders around, trying to shake the strange feeling of being watched.

I’ve already finished most of my wings and hailed the server for a to-go burger for my mom, so I wipe off my hands with the wet nap and sit back from the table.

“Thaks for this, Sarah. I’ll pay next time we go out.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “You know I never mind treating you.”

I smile.

Sarah comes from money, and she’s always been generous. But I guess she can afford to be generous, with a trust fund plus what she makes working in the office at her father’s company.

As we walk out of the diner together, that feeling washes over me again, and I look behind me.

“Sutton? Are you all right?”

“Fine,” I mutter, scanning the people behind us, but there’s just an older woman walking with a cane and a couple of guys walking a little dog. There’s nothing at all suspicious.

Why am I feeling this way, anyway? Is it just because I saw Gray again? Am I looking for him around every corner or something?

“You sure? I can walk you to your car.”

“You’re parked the other way, it’s fine.” I give her a quick hug before heading to the parking garage.

She stares after me before shaking her head and then walking toward her car.

I keep glancing behind me as I walk, and I nearly miss the green light at the crosswalk because I’m so focused on trying to figure out who’s watching me.

Maybe I’m losing my mind.

The streets are dark, the night air chilly, and maybe I’ve just got the heebie jeebies or something.

I get into my car and the first thing I do is check my rearview mirror, as if there’s some psycho hiding in my backseat.

Of course, there isn’t.

I frown, humming a tune to myself to keep from freaking out.

Headlights pull out just as I pull out of the lot, and I keep glancing in my mirror as if somehow they’re following me.

I take a left turn, and so do they.

I swallow hard, my eyes barely on the road and mostly focused on the rearview mirror.

But when I turn onto the interstate, the car keeps driving past, and I take a breath, chiding myself for being so silly.

When I arrive at Mom’s, I realize at her doorstep that I’ve forgotten her ice cream.

“Shit!”

Ciara who opens the door at that very second, and her eyes widen.

“Mama, that’s a bad word.”

“You’re right. That’s a very bad word, and I shouldn’t have said it. I just forgot Granny’s ice cream.”

“Aw,” my mom says, but she smiles to let me know it’s all right. “At least you brought me a burger. Can’t be mad at that.”

I hand her the bag.

Ciara pouts. “What about me?”

“I got you home fries.”

Her eyes light up. “Can I eat them in the car?”

“Just a few,” I warn her, and she hugs her grandmother tightly and runs to open the back door of my car, scrambling inside.

Mom chuckles. “She sure loves fries.”

“She loves anything fried.” I laugh. “She’s going to have a heart condition by the time she’s twenty if I don't watch what she eats.”

“Aw, she’s fine. Give that baby what she needs. She’s a growing girl.”

“I know, Mom.” I smile, shaking my head.

If it were up to Mom, Ciara would have everything she wanted in an instant, no matter if it’s bad for her or not.

“Thank you again for watching her and picking her up from school.”

“Of course. That’s what grandmothers are for, isn’t it?”

“I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.”

I smile and turn to wave at her. “Love you, too, Mom.”

Ciara’s demolishing her home fries in the backseat, and finally, the feeling of being watched has faded away.

Thank God.

The next morning, dropping off Ciara at pre-school, a blue sedan seems to follow me all the way from home to school.

I keep frowning, and Ciara finally seems to notice.

“What’s wrong, Mama?”

“Nothing, mo stóirin , just thinking about work.”

She’s precocious for a four-year-old, and she often picks up on my bad moods, but there is no reason to worry her with my paranoia.

“Work is hard.” Ciara sighs, as if she’s worked a nine to five for ten years.

I can’t help but laugh, and she grins back even though there’s a bit of a puzzled look on her face.

The hustle and bustle of the pre-school is just like always, and I lose sight of the blue sedan, but I don’t lose that weird feeling that makes my hair stand up at the back of my neck and on my forearms.

Two days pass, and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Ciara is having a sleepover with a friend, so I took the afternoon to do some window-shopping and just trying to unwind instead of going by my mom’s to pick Ciara up like usual.

It’s a change in my routine, so I should be safe. Besides, if I am being followed, they won’t be able to know every one of my turns.

I still think maybe I’m going crazy, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.

When time comes to go home, I get in my car and pull out of the parking space.

A car pulls out behind me. This time, it’s a sleek, black sedan, more expensive than the blue one I’d noticed before.

I keep my eyes on the road, only glancing in the rearview mirror here and there, but they take every turn, every exit that I do, their headlights bright. They’re not exactly riding my bumper, but they are pretty close, and I frown as I turn onto my street.

It’s a coincidence, that’s all.

So what if I’ve never seen that car in my neighborhood before. So what if I feel like I’m being watched? I’m just being paranoid.

I pull into my driveway, determined not to look behind me again, but then the headlights of the black sedan wash over me, and I realize they’ve parked against the street.

My heart starts to race as I grab my bags from the passenger side seat and slam my door just as someone gets out of the black car.

They start to walk up behind me and, my heart slamming against my breast plate, I run to the door, fumbling with my keys before rushing into the house and shutting the door behind me, locking both the knob and the deadbolt.

I look through the peephole to see if I can get a good look at whoever has been following me, but all I can see is a broad back as they jog back to the black sedan.

I can’t make out the license plate as they take off.

Trembling, I pull my phone out of my purse.

What if Ciara had been with me? She would have slowed me down just enough that they’d have gotten us. I was right about being watched, being followed.

I call 911, and the dispatcher seems bored as she tells me she’ll send a unit out to my house. I stand at the doorway, my muscles stiff, shaking, until the cop arrives.

He looks bored, too, and when he jots down what little information I have, I bite my lip.

“What happens now?”

He sighs. “Probably not much. My name is Detective Sanderson.” He hands me a business card. “If you’re followed again, call me. But this is probably just a misunderstanding.”

I set my jaw and take his card, knowing that the police are likely going to do nothing.

I put the card in my back pocket.

Detective Sanderson turns back toward me just as he’s begun to walk away.

“Miss?”

I lift my head to acknowledge him.

“I’ll try to get someone out here to patrol. No promises, though.”

I smile, grateful for at least that.

But even if there is a police car driving by here, that doesn’t mean that whoever is after me will stop.

I feel dejected and scared, and there’s only one person I want to talk to.

Because the more I think about it, the more I realize that this can’t just be an isolated incident. The only person who’s going to understand that is Gray Burke.

After the detective leaves , I look down at my phone for a long time.

I wish I had kept Gray’s contact number. Why didn’t I ask for his number when we hooked up?

There is only one thing I can do now.

I have to go to him.