She’s halfway down the stairs when I poke her in the back. “Odie, wait up.”
Her braids swing to her shoulder when she looks at me, her lips in a pout. “What?”
Odette folds her arms across her chest with a firm stance. Her knit brows show her hard, stubborn anger, but I know my sister well. She isn’t giving me the silent treatment only to be petty, but because my words hurt her.
“I’m a dick,” I say.
“I know,” she quips.
I resist an eye roll. “And I’m sorry.” My words, although forced, are genuine. Remembering the words I threw at my sister put an ache in my chest, and I had to get rid of it. The only ones you can count on are family.
But Odette doesn’t seem convinced. “Are you? Or are you making up with me so I will style your hair?”
“Partly,” I admit. Dissatisfied, she starts down the stairs again, but I grab her shoulder. “But also because it was a shitty thing to say to my sister. We’re all fucked, and it wasn’t fair of me to throw your past problems in your face like that.”
At first she only stares, and I’m thinking my apology wasn’t enough. But then her shoulders relax. “I’m glad you realize that. I’m tired of being mad at you.”
It’s like a ten-pound brick lifts off my chest. “Thank God.”
Her lips quirk into a smile. “Now, c’mon. I’ve got a bit of extra time, and I’m feeling generous, so I’ll do it for you.”
Odie sends me off to wash my hair while she sets up in the living room. When I’m done, she’s ready with a chair for me to sit in and hair products next to her. She pats the seat, hurrying me to sit down.
Doing it here is much easier than going to her hair salon. Not only does she have all the products at the house already, but it takes so little time that it’s not enough to justify going to her building.
She’s about halfway done when Shawn bursts through the front door. Spotting us, he comes over. “Guess what I found out.”
“What?” Odie asks, as intrigued as I am.
“Victor Plaster is dead.”
My expression falls. “The same Victor that tried to kill me last week?”
Shawn nods. “They’re saying he offed himself in his bedroom. He’s been dead for a week.”
Victor ironically offing himself not too long after attempting to stab me in the ring? That man was the epitome of a revenge seeker; he was resilient. I’m sure he had too many enemies he needed to deal with before considering taking himself out.
It wasn’t anyone in the Crowncrest. I ordered everyone, including my family, to leave Victor alone. The asshole tried to murder me, but was a dumbass with a knife, not someone worthy of the time and effort it takes to kill them. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past my family to go against my wishes.
“Did one of you follow and kill him after I specifically said not to?” I ask, my tone dull.
Shawn raises his hands in defense. “You told me not to.”
Odie scoffs. “I wish I were the one who killed him. He tried to kill you. It’s only fair.”
“Well, someone did it. Victor didn’t kill himself.”
“Victor’s dead?” Aralynn practically shouts in the doorway.
I wave my hand and shush her. “Dad is in a meeting.”
“Oops.” Her green eyes pale. Then, she whispers, “The asshole who tried to kill you is dead?”
“Slit his wrists,” Shawn tells her.
“Kingy thinks he was murdered,” Odie says.
“Good riddance.” Ara shrugs and then disappears into the kitchen without another word.
