Somehow, I fucked up.
She’s the one who was supposed to change when I gave her the knife.
She’s the one who should need me.
Not the other way around.
I can’t shake last night or the knowledge that every day Aria seeps deeper into my blood and every thought that I have.
I’m consumed by her. I can’t deny it. She brings out a side of me that should have stayed dead.
“Are you listening?” Daniel asks me, tearing my eyes away from the drawing Aria made yesterday.
He looks as worn out as I feel. It’s because of Addison. She’s not okay being back here. She didn’t realize what this family became after she left. Time changes everything, but she didn’t know. She couldn’t have. And this lockdown leaves us nowhere to hide.
“She needs more than this. She’s not handling the transition well. She needs… she needs to not feel trapped.” Daniel hunches over in his chair, both hands on the back of his head, his elbows on his knees. When he looks up at me, I feel like I truly am the monster Aria calls me for putting him through this. For putting both of them through this. With tears in his eyes, he tells me, “I’m losing her. I don’t want this for her.”
“You’re protecting her,” I remind him. She’s the one they went after and tried to kidnap, to kill, to do whatever they wanted with. She may have been safe if he’d never chased her. If they hadn’t realized he loved her. But you can’t change the past.
“She doesn’t care,” he tells me as he swipes his eyes with the heel of his palm, hiding his pain with a look of anger and annoyance I know is just a ruse. “She thought at first I was overreacting. That it was all in my head and over the incident at her place.” He shakes his head silently before looking me in the eyes. “She said I was being ridiculous. She had no idea. So, I had to tell her.”
“You told her what?” I ask him, just now realizing he’s told her more than she needs to know.
“That men are going to die, and those men want us dead first. I told her we’re at war. She still wants out. She doesn’t like this. And I don’t like keeping her here against her will.”
My voice feels tense and catches in my throat watching him in pain over this.
“She didn’t agree to this. This wasn’t what it was like when we were kids. She had no idea, and I brought her back blindly. I was selfish.” His words are laced with regret. The last sentence comes out in a harsh whisper. “So fucking selfish.” The pain radiates off of him. “I can’t lose her again.”
“You can’t risk her safety either,” I reply and I’m firmer with him than I usually am. We’re at war, and Talvery and his men will attack us the moment they can. “If I were them,” I tell Daniel, “I’d be waiting and any chance I could take to strike first, I’d take it.”
“I know,” he murmurs and hangs his head. “They know they’re dead men; they have nothing to lose. And they’d kill her just because I love her.”
“It’ll all be over soon,” I say to try to offer him comfort as he rests his elbows back on his knees and steeples his fingers, keeping them against his lips.
“I don’t know if she’ll still love me then,” he whispers his pain.
“I know what you mean.” The words slip out and I can’t stop them. Daniel’s eyes hold a question, but he takes a moment to ask it. Waiting and stretching the silence.
“Have you thought for a moment, that maybe keeping her locked up is putting her more at risk? There’s only so much you can control for someone until it turns on you.”
“What choice do I have?” I retort, and his gaze moves to the floor again. “We’re all prisoners of war,” I remind him. “But it will be over soon.”
“When it’s done with… she’ll stay? Aria will stay with you?” he questions me.
I search his face for the intention, why he would even consider her leaving.
“She won’t hold it against you?” he asks me as if knowing what I needed to hear him say in order to answer.
“I don’t know. She’s mine. And she’ll stay with me. Forgiveness will come.”
He starts to say something, readjusting his footing but then he shakes his head.
“I came in to tell you something else, although I’m not sure you want to hear it,” he tells me and straightens in his chair.
I gesture for him to go on. Although, I don’t know why I’m in a rush. I’ve barely spoken to Aria this morning and I’m not sure I’m ready to, not after last night.
I expect him to tell me the same shit Jase has been saying, that Marcus is up to something. Marcus is going to strike. That we have three enemies now, not just one.
Without any proof other than the word of dead men. A single word. The enemies will fall in order: Talvery, Romano, and then Marcus. When we have more proof. I’m not in the habit of starting a war over a single word from the lips of a soon-to-be-dead addict.
“Nikolai is asking around for her,” Daniel tells me and that catches me by surprise.
“Is that right?” I ask as my thumb taps against my lip. Resentment stirs inside of me. He brings out a side of jealousy in me that I’ve never felt before. He had her first.
Daniel nods with the hint of amusement at his lips. “Ever since Romano confirmed it.”
“And what’s he asking?”
“How he can get her back.” He doesn’t hide the thrill in his eyes from delivering this news to me.
“You’re a prick for loving this as much as you do.”
“It certainly adds an interesting dynamic, doesn’t it?” he asks and a mix of curiosity, hate, and jealousy mingle in my blood.
“He has nothing to bargain with and even if he did, there’s nothing I’d want in her place.”
“He’s already been told that and that it would be pointless to even ask you, but he demanded you be told.”
“Did he?”
I can’t blame Daniel for being so amused. “He seems to really care for her.”
“Is this the first or second time I’ve told you I want him to die first?” I ask Daniel and he only snorts a laugh. Every night in the cell that Aria spoke his name, my hate for Nikolai grew. And she did it often. I’m fully aware of how close they were. Too fucking close for him to keep breathing when all of this is over.
“You really think she’ll forgive you?” he asks with a cocked brow. I don’t think he realized what his question would do to me.
She’ll have to forgive me. There’s no other way.
I don’t like leaving Aria or being away from the estate right now, especially knowing that every moment I’m away is a moment that threatens to make her question what she should do. That’s a dangerous thought to leave her with; all she should do is what I tell her, but I have to be present for this.
There are times when it’s required to be seen. This particular instance is one of those times. With slicked-back hair and a sharp suit, Oliver looks younger than I remember him. Maybe it’s the wide grin on his face that adds to his youthful appearance. Maybe it’s the shot of what looks like whiskey that he clinks against Frank’s beer and then throws back as he takes his seat. Neither of them sees me, but the security and Jared notice the moment I enter. They tense as I let the back doors close easily behind me, listening to Frank’s hard slap on Oliver’s back in congratulations.
Frank’s all right I guess. He’s a little older than me, only by a few years, but he’s perpetually twenty-one. A punk kid with no goals in life other than making a buck on the streets and letting everyone know he’s proud of it. I don’t give a fuck what his motivation is, so long as he listens. I catch his light blue gaze and he slides back in his chair with a broad smile. “The boss is here,” he utters but his jovial words are slurred.
“Your mom waiting up for you, Frank?” I ask him, hiding my grin as I walk toward the table they’re sitting at in the right corner of the room.
Glancing over my shoulder, I take notice of who’s counting the money down the hall. All the drugs come in and out of the Red Room, Jase’s nightclub. As does the money.
“Ma can wait up all she wants.” He blows off my comment, not taking the hint that he should make his way out.
“I think there’s some business,” Jared points out and gestures between myself and Oliver, his head tilted as he tries to convey to Frank that he should get the fuck out of here.
The shot glass sounds heavy as it hits the table and Frank pushes out his chair. “All right, all right, the big guys gotta talk.” He mutters without looking at me, “You don’t got to tell me twice.” As he’s putting on his jacket, I lay a hand down on his shoulder and wait for him to look at me. I stand close to him, catching him off guard and creating a thick tension that’s undeniable. Fear looms in the depths of his eyes as I tell him earnestly, not breaking eye contact, “Thanks for understanding.”
“Can we get another?” Oliver asks, the happiness not at all dampened. He doesn’t see how Frank stumbles backward; he doesn’t notice the change in the air. Frank does, and all he says on his way out is, “Of course, boss.”
Yeah, Frank’s an all right guy.
As I pull out the chair across from Oliver, letting it drag across the floor, Frank leaves, entering back into the club, bringing in the pounding music. It’s quick to fade as the door closes with a resounding click.
“Thank you, thank you,” Oliver thanks Jared, who’s pouring out another shot of whiskey in front of Oliver and then filling the empty glass Frank just had.
“To finally snuffing out the fucking Talverys.” Oliver’s age finally shows as he raises the glass in the air and doesn’t hide the hate on his face. He’s new to the crew. Not at all like Frank, who started with me only five years ago. I picked up men as I took over street by street. Giving the men who ran them the option to come with me or die.
Oliver came to me though. Pissed that Talvery didn’t want him, he offered up his services as muscle on the street. If it wasn’t for Jared’s word, I never would have hired him. Too old. Too cocky. More than that, he’s too eager to make a name for himself.
With a nod of my head, the old man throws the drink back, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he sets down the glass and shakes off the burn of the shot.
“I heard everyone’s ready to get it over with,” I tell him, resting both of my arms on the table. A sly grin kicks up his lips. “Couldn’t be more ready, boss.”
My own grin shows itself. An asymmetric smirk as he calls me boss.
The dumb fuck should have remembered that earlier today.
“So, what happened,” I ask him easily, motioning with my hand palm up for more, “give me all the details.”
He’s grinning from ear to ear as he tells me what I already heard, what everyone heard.
“There were four of them right across the street from Dale’s bar, on Sixth Street. I saw them walking in and knew they’d be there for a few.”
In my periphery, I see Jared stiffen; he knows me well enough to realize that this isn’t going to end well for the man he stuck his neck out for to get on the crew. I bet he’s wondering what that means for him. If I was him, I’d be wondering too.
Oliver still hasn’t caught on. He’s nothing but proud as he tells me how he walked in and shot all four of them before they ever grabbed their guns.
“All on Talvery’s turf? That takes balls.” I compliment him although inside my heart is pounding, adrenaline raging inside of me and the tension building. I’ve been needing a release for all of this pent-up anger. Wiping the smirk off old Oliver’s face might be exactly what I need. That, or falling back into bed with Aria.
Just the thought of having her makes me want to speed this shit up and get back to her.
I’ve already been gone long enough.
“No one’s making a move, but they were right there,” he says and emphasizes his words, shaking his hands in the air. No one’s crossing lines, and no one’s made a move, not even Nikolai. But this dumb fuck thought he could do it and get away with it.
“How many shots have you had so far?” I ask him, my foot tapping against the ground as my impatience grows with every thought of getting Aria under me tonight.
“This is my fifth since Jared brought me in.” He sways slightly in his chair as he tells me, but the smile only widens.
“Two for each of the four,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear me and stand up. I have to walk around the table to pat him on the shoulder as I tell him, “Three more, all on me.”
The smell of whiskey hits me hard as he reaches up to return the pat on my arm. His touch is firm with the first pat, but I don’t stay in place, making the second one turn to a tap. My gaze is on Jared as Oliver says something behind me. A thanks and another cheers to killing the Talverys. I don’t fucking care what the dead prick has to say.
Pausing in front of Jared, I keep my voice low as I tell him.
“It’s on you to slit his throat when he’s done those three shots.”
On cue, Oliver calls out for another. The blood drains from Jared’s face, but he nods and with a low voice he answers, “Of course.”
There’s not a hint of anything but remorse on Jared’s face. He’s tense, but he had to know it was coming. “No one does a damn thing until I say so.” My shoulders stiffen, and the anger threatens to show itself, so I reach out, straightening Jared’s tie and then add, “If there are any other dumb fucks who want to show off and not wait for my orders,” I look Jared in the eye to tell him, “don’t bother me and make me come in here. Kill the pricks where they stand.”
