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“Let’s get to work,” he says.
* * *
Hell hath no fury, as they say.
Though, I’m not sure these broken Harts are what they had in mind.
I stand with my back to the wall in their living room. It’s a cozy house, not unlike what I always imagined a happy childhood would look like. Lilah sits in an armchair beside me while Dante and Lucy take the couch by the wall. I see bits of everyone’s personalities scattered about the house. Family photos. Old magazines. Yoga mats and ammo boxes.
“I want to kill them,” Lilah says, hugging her knees. “All of them.”
Dante shakes his head. “I get that, I do, but—”
“But nothing, Dante. We can’t just sit here.”
“Why not?”
She gestures at me. “If Archer can figure out where we are, they can, too. It’s only a matter of time.”
His stare flicks at me with annoyance. This man already has plenty of reason to despise me and I wish Lilah would stop reminding him of every single one of them, but…
“She’s right,” I say. “Myra made mention of something happening next week. She didn’t say what, but the Boss wants to make sure you’re all dead before then. They’ll be turning over every last stone until they find you.”
Lilah nods. “We hit the road and keep moving.”
“And how long will that last?” Dante asks.
“For as long as it has to,” she says. “Dante, I’m sorry. I know you wanted to settle down here, but you can’t. Not yet. Not until we take out the Boss.”
He scoffs quietly. “Lilah, we don’t even know who the Boss is.”
Lucy frowns. “None of you met your own boss?”
“She was more of a phantom than anything else,” he explains. “Myra spoke for her.”
I bite my cheek. “I may know where to start looking.” Again, he squints at me. “Myra slipped up back at the hotel. She said her mother didn’t trust her instincts about me and that I wasn’t fit enough for their new team.”
Lilah furrows her brow. “Her mother?”
“Shit…” Dante’s shoulders sag.
“What?”
He takes a breath. “One night, about three or four years ago, Mercer caught me checking out Myra.”
Lucy leans forward. “Oh, really?”
“Four years ago,” he repeats, smiling at her.
She crosses her arms. “Uh-huh.”
“Anyway, he offered to arrange a swap. A night with Myra for me, for a night with Lilah for him.”
Lilah recoils. “Ew.”
“I told him to piss off, obviously,” Dante continues, “and I never thought much else about it until now.”
I nod. “Your sister for his.”
