THIRTY-FOUR
Ozzie
What “they”bring to the fight is one person, and it’s not Crypto. I was all set to brawl some punk, but the man we find having a chat on the front lawn with Crosby and Carl is not young.
He’s big and burly, like Khaz, but none of the wisdom and experience in his nearly expressionless eyes.
“Spade,” I hear my Mila breathe as we enter the backyard gate.
“Who?” Mom whispers.
“One of the Whitman security guards. Crypto must have sent him here to strong-arm me into the car,” Mila mutters.
As we approach the scene, I can tell by how this Spade guy wears his suit that he’s packing more heat than a mountain full of moonshiners. We’ll have to dogpile on him if we’re going to prevent him from taking our girl back with him, without bullets.
“Well, you see, Mister Spade,” we hear Crosby say as we approach, Mila surrounded by all of us, “you’re on our territory. You can’t bring your beef to Beta Beta Psi. That would be a declaration of war.”
Spade has thick, dark eyebrows that rise in confusion and curiosity. “How’s that? I’ve only been tasked with bringing our Kendall back. There’s something she’s going to want to see…there you are!” Spade’s attention has homed in on Mila’s presence. “Thank god. Let’s go.”
Everyone standing in front of Mila tenses and draws together. Emmeline and Khaz stand on either side of her, with me in front.
“No, thanks,” Mila says lightly, calmly. Much more calmly than what I know is going on inside. She’s silently freaking out.
Leela, who’s being held back by Cassandra and her boyfriend Titus by the front steps, breaks free and walks right up to Spade’s face. “There’s nothing she needs to see from any of you. Crosby’s correct. Suppose you take one more step on this property. In that case, you’re officially encroaching your business into our distribution territory, and that’s gonna be a problem.”
Leela has no idea who Spade is, what kind of trouble Mila is in, nor does she have a clue what’s been going on behind the scenes with Mila. But Mila did tell me that last year after some sketchy folks kidnapped Leela to get to Crosby, she has zero fear about any kind of thugs, goons, henchmen, minions, or whatever nickname they go by. Leela has no fucks left to give.
Soon, Meghan, Cassandra, and all the present sorority sisters form a phalanx between Crosby and Mila. My brothers, sisters, and in-laws have joined this motley band of idiots.
“What…what the fuck is happening?” Spade asks, lifting his hands into the air, displaying his palms as if warding off an attack.
Yes. Yes, I would also like to know the answer to this question. Did they all decide to hatch this plan while we were out back? Is my father, the music professor, responsible for this? If it weren’t so dangerous, it would be adorable and hilarious.
The group moves forward in an eerie formation that is something to behold. Leela holds a cricket bat. Crosby’s got nunchucks, and they are a-swinging. Cassandra is pointing a tennis racket menacingly. Meghan and others are brandishing various threatening items, including wire whisks and folded-up beach umbrellas. I am terrified for everyone’s safety.
“Kendall. Let’s have everyone calm down. I’m not bringing you back to let Crypto have vengeance. There’s been enough chaos.”
“You’re…you’re not?” Mila’s astonished expression tells me exactly why she thought Crypto was coming for her. Another piece to the puzzle that Mila didn’t tell me about. I instantly decide it’s nothing to get upset about because it’s irrelevant. She chooses who she wants to be with. And if I can allow myself to feel smug in this moment—which I do—I’m 99 percent certain that I’m her choice, not some punk-ass bitch baby up north who could not be bothered to show his face in Pine Mountain.
“No,” Spade insists. “You must come home to take over the family business.”
Mila scoffs. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because you are the sole heir to Emil’s fortune.”
“I am?”
“Yeah.”
I watch this back-and-forth volley of words, and nothing makes sense. Once again, I draw on my limited knowledge of mafia movies and life insurance. I’m pretty sure that if a beneficiary murders the benefactor, they are entitled to nothing. I bite my lip to keep from speaking up, though. Somehow I don’t think Spade would be here to escort Mila away to collect her fortune if he knew she was the one who killed Emil.
Mila thinks this over.
“Spade. If I take over the business and collect my inheritance, Crypto will try to push me out of the picture.”
Spade frowns, then acquiesces. “Probably. But can we talk about this more in the car? I got a lot of miles to put between myself and your friends’ spatulas.”
“Not happening,” I say.