Pretty Lies, page 16
Della dragged in a shaky breath, the sound loud in the silence of the kitchen. “I’m still trying to process what happened yesterday.”
“We don’t have to talk about it. We can keep doing this—just talking about anything else. You don’t have to go there yet, Della. Not if you don’t want to.”
His words made her pause. They could pretend, she knew, but it would still end. Her brother was dead. She would never go back to a time when she couldn’t say those words. J would always be dead now.
“Or … could we just be quiet for a minute?” she asked. “I think I want to process.”
Ten feet away, he gave her one of his grins. “Yeah, you can think. Silence it is.”
He continued stirring his coffee, seemingly fine to not pay her a bit of mind even as her bare feet padded across the room to take her right where he stood. Turning around, she used her hands to pull her up to the edge of the counter where she sat.
Eventually, with the rhythmic ting-ting of his spoon the only noise other than their breathing, Della rested her cheek to the top of Cory’s bare bicep.
She felt him look down at her, but he still didn’t say a word. She understood why he was something she needed. Compared to her, he seemed like a pillar in destructive winds. She was the hurricane making the mess. Somehow, he felt like the steady, safe ground and she was desperate to find some traction.
Just like the day before when she couldn’t bear to break down in an emergency room full of people watching her, so she walked and walked and walked until she was sure nobody who knew her face would see her cry. And who followed her the entire way? Who sat beside her and held her without saying a word and didn’t mention it after?
Cory.
Everything in her life lately, from her business to her heart and even her pain, brought her back to this man. It was starting to feel like the universe was telling her something. It wasn’t at all the best time, but the thing that had bloomed between them was becoming impossible to ignore all the same.
Maybe that made it hurt worse.
The rest, that was.
Because the falling part—falling for him?
That had been easy.
It was the hows of all this. How had Cory done this? How did her heart find a way to open up and let him in?
She had another question, too. One that only time would answer, but it had nothing to do with how she felt about Cory. Yet it had been the first thought that raced through her mind when she dared to open her eyes in bed that morning.
How would everything change?
After yesterday, her world stopped. It was turning again—of course, it kept going. The world didn’t revolve around her. So, even though she’d lost the person who had been her best friend for as long as she’d been alive, life continued on.
Differently.
“Nothing is going to be the same,” she whispered.
Not for them.
Or her family.
J was gone.
Cory stilled; his warm body turned to stone beside her before he leaned sideways a bit to press a kiss to the top of her head. His words skipped over her mussed, bed-wavy hair. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”
“My heart hurts.”
“Time makes it a little easier to breathe, but it’s too raw right now to see it. I’m sorry.”
He stood straight, and she looked up to meet his gaze when she replied, “Yeah, me too.”
Cory sipped on his coffee while Della retreated back inside her mind. It wasn’t for long though because her mouth quickly found a reason to fill the silence.
“Checked my phone after I woke up. Missed calls from everybody. Ma was hospitalized and sedated. Dad’s trying to handle everything—business and Ma and there’s cops. A lot of our extended family lives outside of Illinois, but some are coming in today. Jennika sent me a bunch of voice messages; the first couple are a mess. I don’t know. We’re going to have a lot of attention on our family and business after this, aren’t we? And … I just …”
Della trailed off and sucked in a shuddering breath that rattled. Cory set his cup to the counter and his arm snaked around her to hug tight to her side. It helped, but it was too late. The anxiety pummeled through her insides, making each and every breath shorter and shallower.
“We’ll handle everything,” he said, strong and sure and sounding like nothing that she felt at that moment. “One thing at a time—we will.”
She nodded.
He leaned in to nudge his nose along the hair that she’d tucked behind her ears. “Even when you feel like you’re going to break, you still look like you’re going to conquer the world. Just remember to breathe.”
She did.
It helped.
One breath after another.
Finally, she said, “I need to go to my parents’ place—my dad needs help, and there’s stuff to handle.”
“Okay. When?”
“Probably noon—his last message said he wouldn’t be home until then. Ma, and all.”
“Noon it is.”
Della’s stare flicked from Cory’s mouth to his eyes that hadn’t moved from hers. “It still hurts.”
“Sorry, babe.”
She knew … he couldn’t say anything else. What could he say?
“Can we go back to pretending like everything is okay? Like we were before so I don’t spiral into a panic attack? Because it’s going to hap—”
Cory’s hand slipped behind Della’s neck, pulling her toward him while his arm around her waist tightened. He kissed her silent as his fingers tangled into her hair and his hard, warm lines molded against her soft curves when he stepped in between her spread legs. His tongue struck out against the seam of her parting lips, taking a taste of the mint toothpaste she’d used from his bathroom earlier. Morning sunlight colored the modern kitchen in yellow tones while shivers raced over Della’s skin.
Guilt raged through her while lust rammed right over it, thickening her blood and sharpening her breaths when he rolled his hips into her. His erection had her pushing forward for more while her fingers bit into his broad shoulders. She shouldn’t be doing this with him right now when her family’s entire world had come crashing down, but it felt good.
Right then, that’s all she wanted.
Just to feel good.
“What did you say we were?” His tongue licked up the column of her throat before he rained hard, suckling kisses down her chest that she was sure left marks behind. “What was it, Della? That this is—”
“Easy,” she breathed. “This is easy.”
“So let’s do this. And then we’ll go back to the rest of the world. Yeah?”
He always let her decide.
Even if it was selfish of her.
Selfless of him.
“Yeah,” she breathed with a nod.
His hands twisted into the hem of the oversized T-shirt of his that she’d thrown on the night before when he asked, “And you like it.”
“Too much.”
Cory grinned and leaned in close; those hands of his dropped down to her bare thighs before flexing his fingers into her muscles to make her legs tighten around him more. The cotton panties she wore were nothing more than a thin barrier between her cunt, and the length of his erection under his sleep pants. “Me too, Della. I like all of this. That pussy. These curves. Your mess and your smiles. That sound you make when you’re close. I love it all. Lay back.”
One of his hands raced up her stomach, fisting the T-shirt again as he shoved her back to the countertop. Her hair fell over the side of the island while his grip tightened on her shirt, making the fabric bite against her skin. She was content to lose herself in the way he shoved her panties aside, too impatient to bother with even pulling them off.
His fingers stroked her.
Awakened her.
Every tease of his fingers inside of her or toying with her clit had Della squirming harder on the counter until those noises of hers that he swore to love so much were crawling out of her throat. She came harder than ever when he shoved his pants down and used the head of his cock to stretch her open—but only just the tip—while his fingers circled her clit all the way through the orgasm.
“Fuck yeah, so tight,” Cory groaned, his approval thick in his husky tone as he took his time sliding the rest of his cock in while Della caught her breath. His fingers splayed over her clenching stomach, pinning her in place when his deep, slow strokes started. Each snap of his hips came faster. Then harder. All at once, he slowed, Della couldn’t help but roll her hips into him, getting more of what she wanted when he wasn’t giving it to her. “God—this cunt’s mine, babe. That’s it, move that body and fuck me how you want. Show me how good that pussy looks swallowing my dick.”
Her hand slipped between their bodies when he started pounding into her again. There was something sinful about feeling her wetness on his length—how slick it was and how hot he felt under the tips of her fingers. She used her wetness to rub circles into her clit, desperate to chase another orgasm.
Cory urged her on.
All his dark words taking her higher.
He licked the taste of her pussy from her fingers after she’d come again. Her, trembling and shaking. Him, just barely getting started.
After he’d fucked her crazy on the counter, he carried her to the bathroom. She sucked him clean in the shower, let him fuck her again, and pretended like everything else wasn’t going to catch up with them.
Except it would.
Just not … right then.
Della was okay with that.
•••
Della’s tired stare drifted over her reflection in the pane of glass that overlooked the room just beyond her current position in the hallway. The air smelled of bleach and something else—something of industrial strength. Other than her eyes, one couldn’t tell that just yesterday morning, her brother had been murdered and here she was standing in a hospital morgue the day after. Every hair was in place. Her booted heels and dress were set off with a black trench coat tied at the waist and a matching bag.
Appearances were everything, and Della knew that. So while she didn’t put on makeup before leaving Cory’s place that morning, she still had enough of a mind to get a friend to drive her over something appropriate to wear.
She didn’t want to be here. Not standing in the sterile-smelling, gray hallway looking through a window at a room that sported metal cabinets, a tiled floor, and a drain right in the middle. The wall of cabinets at the far end was so clear in their square shape with small windows and white numbers on each.
The morgue wasn’t a happy place to be.
Della shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but in the mess of everything … someone had missed signing paperwork at the hospital. Her father was still with her mother while Frankie’s men scrambled to handle business. Della was the next of kin available to come down and sign whatever was needed with the lawyer who’d been available.
Except Cory wasn’t allowed beyond reception. Neither was the lawyer after they’d been signed in. She realized the paperwork said her brother’s body had yet to be moved.
Della couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Would I be allowed to see him?”
Had she really wanted to?
Could she handle that?
Alone?
And that’s how she found herself down in the belly of the hospital, standing in front of the window while she waited to view her brother’s body.
She imagined he’d been washed—maybe. If he hadn’t been moved from the hospital yet, then the coroner for the district hadn’t viewed him as he worked out of another facility. A note in the paperwork was clear that his body shouldn’t be released to the family because the police still considered J’s remains evidence they needed until the coroner signed off.
That bothered her a lot.
Once her mother was back at home, the first thing she’d want to do was begin work on giving her son a proper goodbye. So, now Della was going to have to go home to her parents and explain that, just to rub salt in the wound, who knew when they would have J’s remains to bury?
This day wasn’t getting easier. Della was hyperaware of her loneliness. Of the sadness. The ache wouldn’t leave her chest.
A little over twenty-four hours ago, she’d been standing in that office with her brother because he did the same thing for her that he always did. He was the best big brother she could have ever wanted—her heart was missing a huge piece. Just like the hole that was now going to be in her life because J was no longer there to fill it.
The movement on the right side of the room had Della’s attention switching there in an instant. Her thoughts silenced all at once when the large blue doors were opened for the two morgue workers who were currently pushing a rolling metal table that was long enough to be a bed. The human-shaped form under a tucked-in white sheet had her heart thundering. Even her breaths came in and out a little sharper.
They came to a stop in front of the windows.
Now or never, she thought.
A part of her had maybe still been trying to pretend like J wasn’t gone. Like yesterday was a dream and at some point, she would wake up, and the nightmare would be over.
The men glanced her way on the other side of the window. This was never going to be over. They waited for her. It took her ten seconds to nod. When they pulled the sheet back to let her view Joel’s ashen body from his neck up, Della was grateful for only one thing.
His face wasn’t bloody. Nothing else was good or right, though.
She just wanted to be in there—with him. Arms tight around him, she’d beg God to let her brother’s heart beat again. Even if it was only for one more minute.
So, then she could say thank you and tell him she loved him. Promise to be a better sister.
All of it.
And more.
Instead, she pulled her sunglasses back down so even the men beyond the window wouldn’t see her cry. Because goddammit, heartbroken or not, Costellos wouldn’t ever be seen as weak, and even in his death, J would expect and respect nothing less from Della.
She didn’t know anything else, either.
•••
The elevator doors opened to the reception area of the hospital’s morgue as Jennika’s final voice message from the night before played on Della’s phone. The shortest of the ten or so that her friend sent, it was also the easiest to understand. The others had the wind in the background, or her friend slurred too much.
She’d messaged her back, and tried to call since the morning with no answer and no reply. As she made her way back to where Cory was waiting for her, a reply finally did come in from her friend. It only said I’m not okay—sorry.
Della kind of figured that out on her own when she heard Jennika’s mess of messages. The last one had simply been her friend mumbling, “I loved him, Della, fuck. Okay?” Followed by crackling static in the speaker before it cut off entirely.
“Is that Jennika?”
Della glanced up from her phone to realize a couple of things. She still hadn’t exited the elevator, Cory was waiting just three feet away from her where he leaned against the wall, and the lawyer was now gone. No doubt, she or her father would be seeing the man again soon. The damn cops were all over everything. Like fucking fleas.
Della waved her phone as she stepped out of the elevator. Pushing her sunglasses up to the top of her head, she wasn’t worried about Cory seeing her bloodshot eyes, or the dampness left behind from her most recent tears. He wouldn’t say a thing.
In fact, he didn’t say anything about her crying when he wiped the dampness away with the pads of his thumbs when she came close enough for him to reach out and do it.
This man …
He was something else.
Tipping her head up to meet his stare, she said, “Yeah. I don’t know how she got out of the hospital last night, but she’s not taking what happened well at all. I think she and J were … a thing, or something and she’s spiraling a bit. Not the first time she’s done something like this, really, but it’s a bad time for it.”
Cory chewed on his cheek like he was considering his next words. “Huh.”
“I’m worried about her. She doesn’t have anybody. She won’t pick up a call.”
“Listen, sometimes a mess is just a mess. And you have to let people live in their mess when they want to.”
“That’s fine as long as someone has good coping mechanisms for their mess. She doesn’t.”
Cory frowned. “You’re worried.”
“A little.”
He nodded. “I’ll get Joe to put a bead on her. He’s already working on something related to the warehouse anyway. Somebody had info about that place, and they gave that info to Luis. We need to know who it is.”
“He’s claimed it, then?”
Cory chuckled dryly. “Made a few calls while you were down there. And yeah, word on the street this morning is Luis’s crew claimed the hit on the warehouse, but it’s already radio silence on where he or his people are. They’re playing a dangerous game now, and they know it.”
Rage filled her. It must have radiated in her tension or even showed in her eyes because Cory nodded when he muttered, “Yeah, I feel that.”
“Did anything else come from your calls?”
“Your mother is home—asking for you. Frankie also mentioned business needs to be figured out over the next little while considering everything.”
The lump in her throat came back. Even when her father was handling his wife having a mental breakdown and the death of his son, he still put mob business front row and center for his attention. It was only that moment when Della finally learned to appreciate what it meant to be these people living this life. They sacrificed in ways others couldn’t imagine.
“Okay,” she said.
Cory stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Get some color into you. You’re going to need it.”
“For what?”
“The lawyer let me know there were a couple of news trucks pulling up when he stepped out for a smoke before he finished his business at the desk and headed out. I checked—there’s more. Someone must have let the media know someone from the Costello family was at the morgue.”
