All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(23)

The killers came while Daddy was working. Not only had Natty and I been home, we’d been in the room with him. No one saw us because we’d been playing at Daddy’s feet, concealed by the frame of his massive mahogany desk. He heard the intruders before he saw them. Daddy tilted his head towards us ever so slightly and put his finger to his lips. ‘Don’t move’ had been his last words, right before he was shot in the head. Even though I was still a child I knew enough to clamp my hand over Natty’s mouth so that no one could hear her sobs. And though no one was there to clamp a hand over my own mouth, I didn’t cry either.

They shot Daddy once in the head and three times in the chest and then they ran out of the house. From my position under the desk, I didn’t see who did it, and the police still consider the crime unsolved. Not that they investigated it very much. I mean, Daddy had been a notorious crime boss – from their point of view, his murder was only a matter of time, an occupational hazard, et cetera. On some level, maybe they even thought the murderers had done them a favour.

‘Was it about Daddy?’ I repeated.

She looked at me with haunted eyes. ‘No, it was about you.’

I laughed. ‘You might as well tell me about it. You’ll feel better saying it out loud and then I’ll be able to tell you how silly you’re being.’

‘It was like the night Daddy was killed,’ she said. ‘I was under the desk when I heard the intruders come in. But then I noticed that you weren’t with me. And I started looking everywhere for you—’

I interrupted her. ‘That’s easy. It’s a metaphor. You’re scared of being alone. You’re probably having anxiety about me going to college. But I already told you, there’s no way I’ll leave New York, so you shouldn’t worry about that.’

‘No! You didn’t listen to the rest. Just as the intruders come in, I look up and you’re seated in Daddy’s chair. You’re Daddy! And then I watch as they shoot you in the head.’ She began to cry again. ‘It was so awful, Annie. I saw you die. I saw you die.’

‘That’s never going to happen, Natty,’ I said. ‘Not that way, at least. What did Daddy always tell us?’

‘Daddy said a lot of stuff.’ Natty sniffled.

I rolled my eyes. ‘What did Daddy always tell us about why we would be safe?’

‘He said that no one touches the families.’

‘That’s right,’ I told her.

‘But what about what happened to Mom and Leo?’ Natty asked.

‘That was a mistake. The hit was meant for Daddy. Mom and Leo were just in the way. Besides, all the people who planned it are gone.’

‘But—’

‘Natty, it would never happen like that today. No one is trying to kill any of us because none of us is actively involved in the family business any more. There’s no reason to bother with us. You’re being ridiculous!’

Natty thought about what I’d said. Her brow furrowed and she pulled her lip up to her nose. ‘Yes, I guess you’re right. I feel sort of silly now.’

Natty lay down in bed and I pulled the sheet up to her chin.

‘Did you have a good time with Win?’ Natty asked.

‘I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’ I lowered my voice. ‘He’s still here.’

‘Annie!’ Her eyes grew wide and delighted.

‘It’s a long story and probably a lot less exciting than the one I suspect you’re concocting, Natty. He’s only using our couch.’

I was just about to turn off the light and leave when Natty called to me. ‘I hope Win didn’t hear me screaming,’ she said. ‘He’ll think I’m such a baby.’

I promised her I’d explain without telling him too much of our business, and Natty smiled. ‘Incidentally, you’re not a baby because you have nightmares, Natty. Something terrible happened to you when you were little, and that’s why you have them. It isn’t your fault.’

‘You never have them,’ she pointed out.

‘No, I go around pouring spaghetti sauce over boys’ heads,’ I said.

Natty laughed. ‘Goodnight, brave Anya.’

‘Sweet dreams, Natty.’ I blew her a kiss, then closed her door.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. When I was in kindergarten, the teachers had taught us this incredibly lame water-conservation song called ‘Think Before You Drink’, and I guess it stuck with me because, to this day, I couldn’t run a tap without mentally calculating the cost. Lately, I’d been thinking of that song a lot because, as the person who was responsible for our housekeeping budget, I’d noticed that the per-millilitre rate had begun to creep up with each monthly bill. Daddy had left us with plenty of money, but I still tried to keep track of such things.

I finished the first glass, then had another. Thank God water wasn’t a rationed commodity. I was desperately thirsty and, although I’d tried to play it off as nothing, Natty’s dream had left me uneasy.

There were two things I didn’t tell Natty.

First, I would kill anyone who tried to hurt her or Leo.

And second, I wasn’t brave. I had bad dreams, too. More nights with than without. Unlike Natty, I had mastered the art of screaming inside my head.