Knowledge is power. Anything you don’t know makes you weak. Vulnerable to the enemy. It’s that simple. “Someone either wanted to kill Daniela, or they were willing to risk her death to stop the wedding. Despite what the news is reporting, there were five deaths at the church.” Not counting the bastard from the florist, who I killed myself.
“Isabel’s murder?”
There’s going to be no end to the probing. I can feel it already.
“Not a coincidence.”
“And you know this how?”
I scowl at him. “I’m not an idiot.”
“You are if you jump to conclusions and tie things together that shouldn’t be connected. It could be a red herring.”
Not a fucking chance.“It could be, but it’s not.”
“Valentina is twelve,” Gray says, gauging my reaction through a pointed squint, “and Daniela looks like a coed. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me she’s older than she looks.”
“She’s twenty-four,” I mutter through gritted teeth, venom running through my veins.
“Why is your cousin still breathing?” he asks through clenched teeth. Gray’s a middle child, born after a hothead, and he doesn’t rattle easily.
“I only learned about it this morning. He’s going to have an unpleasant end. Trust me.” I suck in a long breath, but it doesn’t cleanse the Huntsman stench. Nothing can eradicate that. “My father was involved up to his eyeballs.”
I’m not exactly sure why I share this with Gray. Maybe it’s because he, of all people, understands what it’s like to have a father who’s more devil than man. Maybe I need empathy from someone who understands what it’s like to be tainted by the worst kind of evil. Or maybe I’m just a pussy, and I need a little stroking.
“In what way?” he asks, with a deceptive calm.
Where do I begin?He was the fucking leader. I’m sure he created the plan. Reveled in destroying the enemy. After they took my mother in, protected her from his wrath, that’s how he saw the D’Sousas.The enemy.“He raped and killed Daniela’s mother. He would have raped her, too, but the sonofabitch couldn’t get it up.” The mere thought of it makes me want to puke all over my shoes.
“That’s why we’re friends,” he replies coolly. “We have our Norman Rockwell upbringing in common.”
I glance up at the Wilder plane. The women are just inside the door, heads together.
“Who else knows about the rape—and the kid?”
“From what we know, a handful of people knew about the rape. Even fewer know about the child. Most of them aren’t suspects.”Most of them aren’t even alive.
“How’s Daniela doing?”
“She’s tough, Gray. Much tougher than most women who grow up in the lap of luxury with doting parents. Although after her mother was killed, the life she’s had would toughen anyone who was able to survive it.”And I haven’t done anything to help the situation. I’ve just been another bastard, heaping on more shit.
“It’s the tough ones you need to worry about. They function by burying their pain. Not a good coping mechanism for the long-term.”
Tell me about it.I don’t respond because complex emotions that aren’t hatred and rage are beyond my bandwidth.
“You love her. This has got to be tough on you too.”
Love?Another emotion outside my range. “Don’t read too much into our relationship. I’ve already told you my world isn’t like yours.”
“Save the bullshit for someone else. I’ve known you a long time. If you didn’t care about her, you wouldn’t be here. And you sure as hell wouldn’t have called me. You’d have sent Cristiano or someone else to get the girl, and hoped for the best. By now, you’d be somewhere with a whiskey in one hand and your dick in a pretty mouth, licking your wounds because your father fucked up your life again.”
He’s insufferable.Especially when he’s right.“She’s my wife. That’s why I’m here.”
Gray scoffs. “Tell yourself whatever you want, but I’m going to give you a piece of advice and you’re going to listen to what I have to say because you called me in the middle of the night and I came through—just like you would have done for me.”
I kick a pebble across the pavement like a churlish teenager who’s about to get a lecture. But he delivered, as promised, so I keep my mouth shut. At least for the moment.
“This is hard shit,” Gray says emphatically. “It’s not for pussies. Sometimes our better angels dress up like demons. And our demons disguise themselves as angels. It’s how they keep men like us on our toes.”