I hurry to the phone and pick it up before it stops ringing. I stare down at the name that pops up on the screen. Frank Marino.
Frank is calling me back.
I quietly slip outside to take the call. And I shut the door behind me.
Chapter 11
Erika
“Erika Cass.”
Frank’s Brooklyn accent rings out on the line. It’s so thick that you know he was born and raised there. I found him four years ago—in the Yellow Pages. I searched under private detectives and selected his name randomly. I had no idea what I was doing, and I’m lucky that Frank turned out to be as good as he is.
I don’t want to think about what might have happened if not for his help.
“Hi, Frank,” I say. “Thanks for calling me back so quickly.”
“For you, Erika? Anything. What do you need?”
Frank is a smooth talker. That’s what I thought the first and only time I met him in person three years ago, right before the first job I hired him for. He looked just like he sounded—greasy black hair threaded with gray, yellowing teeth from years of smoking, and sharp eyes that didn’t miss a thing. The man made me nervous. But he’s always done everything I’ve asked him to. For the right price.
“The girl’s name is Olivia Reynolds,” I say. “She goes to Liam’s school. Same arrangement as last time. Okay?”
Frank is quiet, hopefully scribbling down the information. “Olivia Reynolds. Spelled how it sounds?”
“Yes.”
“Got it.”
“Same thing as last time. Okay?”
“Okay, you got it.” There’s shuffling on the other line. “I never seen a woman so eager to cock block her kid. Sometimes I think he’s going to be discussing this in therapy someday.”
My fingers tighten around the phone until my fingertips tingle. Frank has done this for me many times, and this is the first time he felt the need to comment. “If you don’t want to do it, I’ll get somebody else.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Because if you won’t do it, tell me now.”
“Shit, Erika. Relax. I was just kidding around.”
My shoulders relax. “Good.”
“One more thing,” Frank says. “My prices went up.”
“How much?”
He quotes a number nearly twice as much as what I paid last time. My chest tightens. He knows it was an empty threat when I said I would get somebody else. He knows I’m not going to get somebody else. I need him. “Fine.”
“It’s nice working with you, as always, Erika.”
Just do your job, you piece of shit. I grit my teeth, angry I can’t say the words that are going through my head. But he’s going to do what I need him to do. He’s going to help me save my son from himself.
Chapter 12
Olivia
Even though it might not be a real date, I could not possibly be more nervous about going to the diner with Liam tonight.
I tried on every item in my closet last night in front of the mirror. Twice. I put on a skirt that was way too short and I would have loved to have Liam see it on me, but it would’ve looked like I was trying too hard. （Also, I’m not entirely sure my mother would’ve let me out of the house.） We’re just going out for some food after track team practice, after all. In the end, I decide to go with cute casual. I tug on my cutest skinny jeans, paired with a red tank top. And then I spend another hour in front of the mirror, trying to get my hair just right.
Boys are exhausting.
Right now, I’m standing in front of the school in my cute tank top and jeans, hugging my body for warmth. My upper arms are covered in tiny little goosebumps, but my jacket isn’t super sexy and I don’t want to wear it in front of Liam. I hope he appreciates how much I’m suffering for him.
Madison has decided to wait with me, but I almost wish she didn’t. She is not a source of positive energy right now. She’s never liked Liam very much, but right now she is downright unsupportive. It seems like she’s trying to convince me to blow off Liam before this even gets started.
“And on top of everything else, he’s late.” Madison pulls her phone out of her pocket and shoves it in my face to show me the time. “Is that what you want? A guy who’s going to keep you waiting all the time?”
“He told me he might be late.” I start jogging in place to keep warm, but then I get freaked out about sweating. “He’s at track practice. It’s not his fault if he didn’t get out on time.”