Chapter 05

ODETTE

My shaky, numb fingers didn't feel the condensation that had built on the chilled glass of lemonade. I couldn't feel the smooth surface of the glass itself or the amount of pressure I was using to grip it. However, I could see that it wasn't much, and—no matter how much I tried—I couldn't get a firmer hold on it.

Frustration stirred in my belly and my jaw locked to keep my whimper from escaping. I felt useless and the more I tried to hold this glass, the more the feeling stomped down on me with no mercy. Tears brimmed my eyes and I felt my lips quiver with an oncoming sob but I was in public so I refused to let myself fall apart.

Not now. Not here. 

"Let me help you," Jericho whispered, sliding his chair closer to mine. His larger hands cupped mine over the glass and I wished I could have felt the warmth they surely offered, "you're probably tired from everything you did today."

I scoffed in response as he lifted the cool glass to my lips. A shiver ran down my spine at the chill of the lemonade flowing down my throat. It was almost unexpected. When I was done, he placed the glass on the table but kept his hand on mine, thumb stroking one of the angry red lines across the back.

"I'm not tired, Jericho," I sounded as bitter as I felt, "and you know it."

"It'll get better," he reassuringly nodded his head.

I wished I could have the positivity he had. It was the one thing we used to have in common. We remained positive not only for ourselves but for each other but now I couldn't help but be pessimistic with the thick gray cloud looming over my head. Right now, him saying things would get better seemed like he was hoping and maybe praying for the impossible because I saw no way for this situation to get better.

"You shouldn't be here worrying about me," I decided to say instead, changing the direction of the conversation. This wasn't something I wanted to spend time talking on. Matter of fact, I wanted to forget today's therapy session even took place, "what have you been working on the entire night. I sometimes wonder if you get any sleep."

"I don't need sleep," Jericho murmured, biting back an amused grin, "and I don't think you want to know what I'm working on."

I leveled him with an incredulous glare, "Don't tell me you're still working on that oracle project of yours. That's illegal," I scanned the people around us before dropping my voice to a whisper, "this is a bad idea and you know it so why still do it? I'm not going to be there to bail you out when this blows up in your face."

"I like to push the limits," he shrugged nonchalantly, "and I'm not going to get caught. Your lack of faith in me wounds me."

"It's not lack of faith when I'm trying to stop you from doing something insane," I deadpanned, clumsily tossing my moonshine blonde hair over my shoulder.

"Don't pretend to be an angel. You may not be on my brother's payroll but you're keeping our family secrets. So don't lecture me," the words may have sounded harsh but his delivery was teasing.

"I'm only keeping my mouth shut for you," I huffed but, the truth was, it was no longer about him. For three years I was roped into his family and I found that I liked Quinn and Miranda. I even liked Miranda's younger sister and Quinn's friend, Priyanka, who I was certain was now dating Quinn's brother.

"Sure, I believe you, Swan," Jericho quipped, curling a tendril of my hair around his index finger and tugging, "you're completely sure you want to meet this guy?"

Raising a perfectly arched eyebrow in his direction, I quizzed, "You don't like Parker much, do you?"

"Hated him the moment he showed me his ugly mug," Jericho said in a voice so low that it vibrated in his chest similar to a growl.

He was an excellent judge of character on most occasions but, most of the time, I just thought he was picky and had too high standards—especially when it came to judging the men that were in my life. Although, he was always spot on about them. Every last one of them turned out to be the assholes he pegged them for.

"I'm starting to think you'll never accept any guy I bring to you, dad," I sarcastically taunted which earned me a glare.

"Shoot me for wanting what's best for you. Tell me you wouldn't do the same," he challenged and I couldn't disagree.

All I wanted was the best for him as well. I wanted him to be happy. To start a family. To live life to the absolute fullest. However, he could only do that if he stopped glaring at a monitor screen all day and night.

"I want you to actually go out there and meet people. Is that too much to ask?"

"Right now," his gaze swept over me in the wheelchair with a grimace, "yeah, I'm going to say it's a bit much to ask, Swan."

"Would you quit calling me that?" I grumbled. Ever since he found out my name he had tied that silly nickname to me.

"It's either that or Princess," Jericho said pointedly, "and princess doesn't suit you."

"And swan does?" I challenged.

"I think it does," he breathed and a flicker of warmth flooded his gaze before clearing.

Sometimes, I forgot how sweet this man could be. Then again, sometimes I forgot that he was no longer a boy. We had both grown and yet when together, it felt like nothing had changed.

"Odette..." A deep, familiar voice drawled from behind.

I stopped breathing and the tiny hairs at the back of my neck rose. Jericho's eyes shot up to the person who stood so close behind me, I could feel his body heat envelop me like a scratchy, uncomfortable blanket. I watched in slow motion as Jericho's face fell, an ugly grimace twisting his lips and furrowing his brows. He was never one to hide what he felt about the people around him and I learned to grow comfortable with him being unable to use a filter.

"If it isn't the boyfriend," Jericho crooned in a saccharine voice, "funny how I haven't seen you. Didn't you care whether or not your girlfriend lived or died for those two weeks?"

Parker chuckled drily, a sound so scary I had the urge to cower away but I shoved that urge down and straightened my spine as he said, "Of course I was but I was recovering myself. Plus, I've just gotten back to work. I've been busy."

"You're never too busy for the people you claim to love," Jericho clipped with a tight smile. He shoved his chair back in the next breath and stood, towering over Parker since he was a head taller, "I'll be outside if you need me, Odette. Take your time, though," he, then, leaned down and brushed his lips over my cheek in a chaste kiss.

The moment Jericho was out of earshot, Parker rounded the table and took a seat across from me. He was a fairly good-looking man with his dark, shaggy hair, long face that held a sharp jar, a slightly crooked nose, and thin lips which were surrounded by a tamed beard.

There was a healing bruise over his forehead and a scar that ran across his left arm. His build was appealing to any woman—not too muscular but not too lanky either—and his olive complexion made him look sun-kissed.

Running his large hand through his tousled locks, he blew out a sharp breath, "Is there a reason you wanted to see me, il mio cigno?"

Two seconds into the conversation and I already wished I could wrap my fingers around his throat, "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" Parker arched an eyebrow with a devilish smirk.

I was once stupid enough to believe that his smirk was attractive, "I'm not your swan!" I hissed because only one person had the right to call me that even if I hated it.

His smirk morphed into a wild, unhinged grin, "We'll see about that."

"You wanted me to help you?" I asked sarcastically with a bite in my words, "but you fucked that up the moment you caused that God damn accident. I'll never get my job back. I'll never get my hands back."

Parker's thick brows shot to his hairline in surprise, "I didn't know the details of your injuries or how extensive they were. The thing is, il mio cigno, I don't necessarily need you. I just need you to get your dad to stop snooping around. The familia won't like it."

"If I knew you were involved in this I would have stayed far away from you," I whisper yelled.

"Your friend," Parker gestured with a nod of his head toward Jericho who leaned against the wall outside the coffee shop we were in, "you know what his family does?"

I kept my mouth shut because I didn't see the need to answer that question.

"Figured," Parker snorted, leaning forward in his seat, "look, I apologize for what happened. It wasn't supposed to go down like that. I really did—" he paused short and shook his head, "do like you. But I can't change the family I'm born into."

"You don't have to be like them," I urged, reaching my hand out to his but I quickly pulled it away when I realized I wouldn't be able to feel him and it was all his fault, "or maybe you're already too much like them."

"I agree, I'm not a cop for the reasons you are. Sure I'm an inside man. But I'm doing this for my family. I joined the academy when I found out a new capo was heading the Mafioso four and a half years ago. I've been trying to keep us in the clear ever since so we wouldn't draw too much attention to ourselves. I'm not going to stop now just because of you."

"Is that why you were so eager to take on that undercover job a few months ago? Where are they going to investigate your family or another?" I questioned while keeping an eye on my surroundings. We didn't need anyone overhearing our conversation.

"It was another," Parker answered with a shrug, "and yes, it was why I wanted in but some stronzo beat me to it."

I licked my dry lips as I readied myself to ask my next question, "How many innocent people have you killed?"

"Come now, I'm not going to reveal my body count," he quipped but his joke fell flat.

"You disgust me," I spat.

"Your boy's brothers aren't any better."

"Yeah, but he's not like them and you know it. It's why you've picked on his family this whole time and not him. You ran a background check on him didn't you?" I didn't wait for a response because the look on his face told me all I needed to know, "and you used your contacts in your family to get whatever else you needed but you couldn't find anything on Jericho, could you?"

"That doesn't change anything," Parker declared with flared nostrils, "and he ran a background check on me too. Just kept it brief. If he goes in-depth he will find out who I am."

"I hope he finds out who you are," I snarled.

"So he could do what?" Parker let out a throaty laugh, "this is a whole different ball game, Odette," he emphasized my name, stressing the T as it rolled off his tongue, "and you're still in it so you better learn the rules fast before something untoward happens to your friend over there. Or worse, to your father. Or, maybe we'll put you out of your misery. Just know, we'll be watching so if you think about turning me in with that little video you have, don't do it."

I tracked Parker's movements as he rose from his seat with a warm smile that was as real as his friendly personality.

"And one more thing," came his taunting voice before leaving, "you tell anyone what you know and bad things will happen. I guarantee it."

Those were his parting words. Words I would recall shortly when bad things did happen as promised.