His raised hands balled into fists. “What I am is willing to do what has to be done. Think I wanted to beat up on some chick whose only crime was some unfortunate shared DNA? Think I liked having to hurt you?” he flung.
“Ask yourself this: would any of this have happened if those guys got out of our way the first or tenth time we told them? If they cared so much about their families and this town, they wouldn’t have escalated this to a war. What else did they expect but casualties?”
I had to stop myself from punching him again. Of course he refused to take responsibility for his repulsive actions. Everything was the Bedlam Boys’ fault.
“And those guys down there? Two more soldiers?”
“That’s Asher and Zeke. Jonah transferred back to HC,” he said. “All anyone wanted to talk about was that video and its made-up bullshit. Thought it was better he take himself out of the situation, and we get some friends up here in his place. Can’t have the Bedlam Boys outnumbering us.”
Folding my arms, I sat in the armchair by the window. “Has it ever occurred to you that there is no war? There’s just a fight you picked on someone else’s playground, and now you’re throwing a tantrum because the bullies were too big for you.”
He dropped in the seat next to me, chuckling. “You’re mad. It’s understandable, but around now is the time you should get over it. Keller’s bruises will heal. Her embarrassment will fade. But Sharpe just learned a lesson he won’t forget. Neither will Creed. If they don’t want another one, they’ll get out of here. If St. James and Stone don’t want to find out what we’ve got in store for them, they’ll fuck off out of my town.”
Someone was missing from that threat.
“What about Roan?”
His lips peeled back from his teeth. “He made his bed.”
A chill climbed my spine. “And what if I want nothing to do with you anymore? I’ll mail my weekly updates to your father.”
“You talk to me, de Souza. You’ll tell me everything—everything the Bedlam Boys do or say. I want reports on the frequency of their shits.”
“That’s not in the—”
“Contract.” His grin only got wider. “Know what else isn’t in the contract? The day we have to hand over the deed.”
“The fuck it isn’t. Ownership is transferred to me on close of sale.”
“Sure, but we never specified when we’d close that sale. Dad’s got no problem with continuing to bribe Ella Franklin to keep it off the market until we’re good and ready to buy it.” He held out his hands—a dangerous move seeing as he wasn’t protecting his sensitive areas. “Who knows when that will be? Months? Years? Actually, I’ll tell you when it’ll be: the day after the Bedlam Boys leave for good and not a second before. So I’d worry less about my methods and more about giving me useful information.”
My expression went blank. I didn’t recognize the voice that left my lips. “You don’t want to play with me, Ellis.”
“I don’t,” he said. “I truly don’t. I’d like us to move past this unfortunate incident and go back to how we were. We do that, and we don’t have to threaten or punch each other in the face anymore. Deal?”
I eyed his outstretched hand.
“You don’t ever lay a hand on Paris again. Ever. If she so much as trips on the wind and breaks a nail, that contract won’t protect you.”
“That’s fair. Paris Keller is off-limits. We good?” He thrust his hand out farther.
“And,” I continued, “since it seems I’ll be waiting a while before I get anything out of this arrangement, you’ll provide me a few things to keep me happy.”
“What do you want? Money?”
“I do want money. Five thousand dollars— Actually, make that six. You can write me a check for the five thousand. The thousand I want in cash. Also,” I said, “your car keys.”
He pulled a face. “What for?”
“I don’t have a car. I need to get around, and it’s better the Bedlam Boys don’t ask questions about where I’m going.”
“If it’s something that’ll piss them off, you can drive it for as long as you want.” He dropped the key on my palm. “Anything else?”
He’s amused. He won’t be laughing when I’m done.
“That’s it. For now.”
A half an hour later, I walked out with my check, cash, and keys.
Cairo and I had a list of stops we meant to make. The accounting office and the youth centers.
That was before Paris and I were attacked, and before the message from the Letter Man. He knew Cairo backed me up for Bella, so he knows I must’ve told him the truth. I wouldn’t put him in more danger by dragging him deeper into this.
I’d find out without him if there was a connection between my grandmother and Cavendish. The same for the identity of Dante, or Blake Jensen, or whoever took up the pen.