Dangerous Games Read Online Free PDF Page A

messages, all but one of them, from my mother.
    “How could you do this to me? Don’t you understand how embarrassing it all is? None of them give a damn about you and all they’ll do is ask you for money. I have already contacted your grandparents and told them to send you away when you show up so don’t expect a warm welcoming from them. When you come to your senses, call me back and let me know when I should expect you in L.A.”
    I pressed the delete button and listened to the final message. “Hey, gorgeous, it’s Dylan, your cousin—remember me? I’m not staying in Dorchester anymore but own a cute little walk-up in the gentrified area of Charlestown.”
    I smiled as I listened to the rest of the message before he gave me his address and instructed me to call him as soon as I was on my way. I grabbed the two Hartmann spinners I owned—both hard-sided to prevent damage to my precious clothing cargo—and walked out of the airport to flag a cab down.
    It didn’t take me long to find one and I quickly hopped in before I gave the driver the address, some double-digit numbered house on School Street and wondered how well I would adjust to my new surroundings. It didn’t take too long for me to find out when less than forty minutes later we were pulling up to a swanky single-family, three-story home painted gray and obviously built within the past ten years. Although it only had a one car garage, there was obvious a vehicle parked inside and late-model, pearl white Cadillac Escalade blocking the garage.
    I didn’t get the chance to ring the door before my cousin ran out barefoot in nothing but a pair of black stovepipe jeans and a matching wife-beater. I threw my arms around his neck as he twirled me around.
    “How’s my favorite baby cousin been doin’?” Dylan exclaimed happily in that thick Bostonian accent of his that was pure Dorchester even if he was residing in Charlestown now.
    “I’m doin’ good,” I replied before I held him at arm’s length to get a good look at him.
    Dylan had always been thin but now he was firmly a man at twenty-five who obviously lifted weights though he was still lean. His skin, the color of alabaster, suited his short dark hair and piercing blue-gray eyes so prevalent in the McKenna clan though they firmly came from my grandmother’s side of the family. Before Cleona had been a McKenna, she’d been a Donahue, hence where my mother had gotten her stage name from. She thought Athena Donahue would sound better than Athena McKenna and she was right.
    My cousin grabbed my suitcases, paid the driver and we walked inside. The place was complete with blonde hardwood floors and minimal furniture. There’d obviously been some kind of get-together the night before because the place smelled heavily of stale beer, marijuana and cigarettes.
    I turned toward Dylan and stared at him as I cocked my head to the side. “The dope business must be good. How much did a place like this cost you?”
    “Can you believe the yuppie bastards I brought this place from wanted nearly a mil for it but I Jewed ‘em down to eight hundred grand. I was payin’ in cash and they liked that a hell of a lot better than havin’ to deal with a bank and transferring mortgages and shit. It allowed ‘em to pay off the mortgage they had and I got this dope fuckin’ pad away from my parents.”
    He walked towards me and I found myself backing up self-consciously until my back hit a wall. “What are you doin’ here? Your mother is raisin’ all kinds of stink about you being back here. Hell, even Patrick and Clara are frightened you’re gonna pay them a visit and take away their precious bundle. You didn’t come back to do that, did ya?”
    I shook my head. “What the fuck am I going to do with a kid? I just couldn’t handle L.A. right now and the first place I thought about was here. I even transferred to Boston Uni because I didn’t want to stay in Seattle.”
    “Good, just stay away from Fiona and