Chapter 15
Connor
“Connor, get your ass down here!” Declan shouts.
Poor Declan. He’s stuck with me for life. I change my shirt and put on jeans, then walk past Dina, who’s coming up the steps.
“When you call him like that, you sound like his parent,” Dina says to Declan, who’s downstairs, hands on his head, gaze on the television.
“My parents never sounded like that, I promise you.” If they sounded that way, it would’ve meant they gave enough of a shit about me to get upset with something, anything I did. But Anabel Crossbow never got over the rape that led to her having babies with Massio, and she couldn’t find it in her heart to love us.
Massio Crossbow handed us over to Donatella Macarley, who raised us practically without him. Whenever he was around, he wanted to take us to our mother. Not for righteous reasons. He taunted her with us.
This is why they’re both dead. Good riddance.
“Hey, we’re on for dress shopping today instead of next weekend.”
“Why the change?”
“Ekatia can make it today. The baby is coming with us.”
“Who’s on your security team?”
“Nema.”
Downstairs, Declan stands in front of the TV, clutching his phone, knuckles white. The reporter for the local news station stands in front of L’Octane as police and medical staff peel Pete off the front door, where I pinned him last night.
“Your work, I presume?” Declan asks.
I slide my hands into my pockets and regard the screen. “I have no idea why you’d think that’s my work. It’s not like I have a signature style.”
Declan looks over at me.
I glance back at him. “What? Oh.” I cringe. The station rolls a video they acquired from someone. The view shows the back of a blond man dressed in black on black. He pounds a man with his fists, breaks his fingers and hands, then pins him to the front door with big kitchen knives.
The man steps out of the frame for a beat, and that’s when the camera shows his face. He wears a red clown nose and carries three things: a DETOUR sign, which he fastens to Pete’s chest, an orange cone, which he fits onto Pete’s head, and a purse. “Did the purse give me away?”
“Connor,” Declan warns.
“Those valet guys from the Tavala district sold their videos. Traitors.”
“You let them record you?”
I shrug. “I didn’t particularly care what they were doing while I was getting creative with Pete.”
“We agreed we’re focusing on the wedding and not this, whatever this is that you did. Important people are coming.Politicians, folks we need for legitimate recruitment and connections. We agreed that they need to feel safe when they’re here. We agreed they can’t be stained by association while here.”
“They’ll still come to your wedding, Dec.”
“But you and I agreed, didn’t we?”
“We agreed that I would go to my sessions with the Musketeers until they want out. We also agreed I wouldn’t shoot randoms for being stupid or for other petty reasons. Pete is alive.”
“Barely!”
“Don’t be mad, Dec. You’d have shot him clean.”
“Fine, try me. What did he do?”