prologue
BILLIE
For as long as I could remember, I was the girl who lived on top of the hill, in the bright blue house with the white fence and a shared pool in the backyard. That was where I first met Jace… and Angelo.
When I was four years old, Jace’s family moved into the house next door, and our parents were instant friends. Jace had a mop of blond hair and the sweetest smile I’d ever seen. Up until the moment he tried to drown me.
This is really where my story started. The part I like to think of as The Before.
When my life was sunshine and laughter, rather than storms and heartbreak.
When I loved the boy next door and he loved me.
When his best friend was my fiercest protector, even in our darkest days.
Before I made the impossible decision that popped our perfect bubble of happiness and shattered our dreams of a future together. My doomed choice spiraled us all down different roads.
That’s how I ended up on this one. This crappy road.
The After.
one
BILLIE
Tears tracked down my cheeks as I clutched the straps of my torn duffel bag. Panic and despair twisted my insides up in such a tight knot I could hardly breathe. How had it come to this?
“Please,” I begged, “just one more week and I swear I’ll have the money. I just need a couple more shifts and—”
The weathered old woman shook her head, her mind fully made up. “Nah, I’ve heard all that shit before, girl. You had your warning; you didn’t pay. Now you gotta go. I’ve got other pathetic waifs who can pay already waiting for this room.”
She was done listening to me beg and plead as she shoved me out into the street and slammed the front door behind me.
Fuck.
Now what?
I had nowhere to go. Fucking nowhere. Mrs. Glass had been right to kick me out on my ass because I was full of shit. Even if she’d let me stay, I had no work lined up to earn that rent money. Now I also had nowhere to sleep tonight. The one small mercy was that she’d kicked me out in daylight, so I had a few hours to find somewhere safe to, hopefully, avoid being raped or murdered when night fell.
“Hey.” A throaty female voice jarred me out of my melancholy thoughts. “You okay?”
I glanced over to see the speaker. It was a twenty-something chick who I vaguely recognized from Mrs. Glass’s building—she lived on the floor above me. Or… had. I no longer lived there.
Sniffing back tears, I nodded. “Yeah. I will be.” I always was. This wouldn’t be my first night sleeping in an alleyway or, probably, my last.
The woman arched a brow in disbelief. Cigarette perched between her long, brown fingers, she took a drag before responding. “Old bitch kicked you out, huh?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The panic and fear of the unknown was sitting in my throat like a golf ball.
“You got work?” the woman pushed, her dark eyes running over me from head to toe in an appraising sort of way.
I frowned. “No. But I’ll figure something out, thanks.” My words were clipped and tight, but I wasn’t desperate enough to become a hooker. Not yet, anyway. Another week might see me change my stance on that. Technically, I had money. I had plenty of money. I just refused to use it. There was no way my parents—working class, middle income parents—could have left me millions in my inheritance without foul play involved. I was sure if I ever accessed that account, whoever killed them would come for me.
She rolled her eyes. “Relax, petal. I’m not soliciting you, but I might be able to help out. You got any waitressing experience?”
Oh. “Y-yes,” I quickly replied, nodding. “Sorry, I thought… Yes, I’ve waitressed loads. Do you know someone hiring?”
Her smile was understanding as she tossed her long braids back over her shoulder. “Hiring? No. But you might be able to pick up some cash shifts while half the floor team are off with the flu.” She finished her cigarette and dropped it to the dirty pavement, grinding the toe of her shoe on it.
Now that I paid more attention, I realized she was dressed in a short black skirt, stockings, and a white blouse. The huge, purple faux-fur coat she wore on top was what had given me the wrong impression.
“My shift starts in twenty minutes, though,” she continued, rising to her feet, “so you better think quick. And get changed. You got something more restaurant-friendly in that big old bag?”
I nodded again, feeling like a bobblehead. “Yes, absolutely.”
“Great!” My new friend grinned, then stuck her hand out for me to shake. “I’m Liz, by the way.”
Offering a smile, I took her hand. “Billie.” Liz indicated for me to walk with her, and I hoisted my heavy bag over my shoulder. “Uh, I shouldn’t really look a gift horse in the mouth, but why are you helping me, Liz?”
She shot me a sidelong look. “Did you just call me a horse?” My eyes widened in horror, but she quickly laughed. “I’m teasing, Billie; chill. And technically, I’m not helping you, you’re helping me. We were so fucking short-staffed last night it was a joke. Then we got blamed for the bad reviews from customers because the service sucked.”
I winced, able to sympathize. Customers were brutal and didn’t care why there weren’t enough servers on shift, only that their drinks took too long. “I get it,” I murmured. “Well, I’m grateful, anyway.”
Liz’s smile was warm, and she offered a one-shouldered shrug. “Don’t thank me yet; I still need to convince my boss. But given the blasting I heard him get from the owner over the phone last night? Shouldn’t be a hard sell. Come on, it’s this way.”
She had a quick pace, and I hurried to keep up with her long legs as she led the way through the streets of Siena. As we hurried, she chatted a little about how the other servers had caught a stomach flu from a party they’d all been at. Liz didn’t get it, because she’d been stuck on the closing shift.
“That was lucky,” I commented, and she gave a throaty laugh.
“Was it? Now I have to pick up the slack for them. Then again, it worked out lucky for you.” She led me down an alleyway and past some dumpsters to a heavy door with chipped paint. “Here we are. Just… steer clear of the chefs. They’re assholes.”
I laughed. “Isn’t that a job requirement?”
She snickered, then pulled open the door. It led us directly into the back of the kitchen where all the ice machines, trash cans, and spare stock were kept, and Liz directed me to a tiny staff restroom where I could get changed.
“I’ll go let Gary know you’re here to save our asses tonight,” she told me as I squeezed inside. “Then I’ll give you the tour.”
I’d been so caught up in my crappy day, in the emotional rollercoaster of being evicted and then saved by Liz’s job offer, I hadn’t even asked what sort of restaurant she worked in. But as I changed into my black skirt and white blouse, the mouthwatering smells of rich tomato and melted cheese rolled under my nose.
“Oh shit,” I whispered, sniffing again. Maybe I was mistaken? But it definitely smelled like Italian food. “No, I can’t be that unlucky. Surely.”