“I don’t know. I’ll sit on this for now and try to figure it out.”
“For what it’s worth, nobody said anything about Louie killing the girl. All they said was they were together and then they weren’t. Could’ve been someone else.”
“Could’ve been,” I say even though I don’t feel much conviction.
Damon shakes his head and stands. “Guess I’ll hire some real muscle for the foreseeable future just in case you decide to do something stupid. How much do you like this girl, anyway? Enough to rip the family apart?”
I only look at him and don’t answer.
He groans and pats my shoulder as he walks past. “I’m on your side no matter what, older brother,” he says and heads off.
Without paying for his drink. Bastard.
Louie fucking Anastasio.
Vince’s personal trigger man.
One of the most dangerous motherfuckers west of the Mississippi with more bodies to his name than some of the best serial killers.
And that’s the guy her cousin decided to get involved with.
I can’t tell if she was the naivest woman in the world or extremely stupid, or maybe both.
Doesn’t matter.
But now I need to decide how to tell Gracie that the guy we’re after is an insanely dangerous psychopath close to Vince and the inner circle of the family.
I head into the apartment a little after midnight to find Gracie sitting by the fireplace curled up in a chair with a book in her lap and a glass of wine half-drunk sitting on the side table. I watch her for a moment from the kitchen with a little smile on my face—she’s got headphones on and doesn’t realize I’m there. She looks so peaceful and happy, and I wonder how this happened—when she first came to my place, it was like watching a fish try to survive on land. She struggled and fought and made everything as difficult as possible just because she could.
Now it’s like she’s acclimated and actually likes being here.
And the bizarre part is, I like her here too. The apartment used to be so sterile and empty, and I’d do my best to stay out all night and sleep all morning and leave the second my eyes opened. This place was nothing more than a safe spot to pass out, but now it feels like more.
Almost like home.
I pour myself a drink and when I turn back, she’s looking at me with a little smile, the headphones down in her lap. “When did you get back?”
“A few minutes ago. Reading anything good?”
She shrugs. “It’s one of those fantasy romances with like magic fae guys and demons and stuff.”
“What’s a fae?”
“Like an elf, sort of. Fairy, I guess, but not like a tiny butterfly creature. Doesn’t matter.” She bookmarks the page and closes it. “You look like you had a long night.”
“I did have a long night. How was the club?”
“Quiet. Boring.”
I sit down across from her on the couch and my knees jostle up and down slightly. I keep thinking about Damon and what he told me, and I don’t know how to broach the subject. I need to tell her about Louie, but the moment I say his name, I know she’ll do something stupid.
But Louie’s not the kind of man we can simply take down, and Grace can’t handle him on her own. She’ll need my help if she wants a chance to get her revenge, and if I get involved, it’ll be a whole fucking scandal.
What a mess. I take a long drink and rub my face and when I look up, Grace is frowning at me like she knows I have something on my mind. I open my mouth to tell her—I know who killed your cousin but, Gracie, he’s too dangerous—but she interrupts me before I can start.
“I have to tell you something.”
I tilt my head and study her trembling lower lip. “What is it?”
“The night we went over to the Sandtrap with just Vince and Charlie. You remember that? You came out from the bathroom and found me talking to Vince.”
“I remember,” I say slowly, the night filtering into my mind. She’d seemed so awkward and I wondered if something was wrong, but didn’t push it at the time.
“He told me something.” She’s staring at her hands and I think they’re trembling, and I realize with a start that she’s afraid.
“Say it, Grace. I’m not going to punish you.” I’m beyond that right now.
She smiles slightly. “He said he had a dream, and in his dream I was stealing his phone. He made it sound like he wasn’t sure if that dream was real or not, but, Calvino, he said he’d hurt the girls at Crystal Lake if I told you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner, but I think he suspects me.” She finally looks up and meets my gaze and I see how conflicted she’s feeling: fear for her friends at work and fear that I’ll be angry with her for keeping this from me for as long as she did.