Page 155 of XO Karma

The guards exit, the door shutting behind them, leaving us in the silent room. Only the crackles of the fireplace fill the silence.

“Son?” my father says, and I grit my teeth, grip readjusting on the pistol. The pistol that I still have pointed his way. Pull the trigger. I shake away the thought. What would happen to Annabelle? Would she forgive me? “Think you can put that down so we can have a conversation?”

The words are eerily close to Jude’s. Jude. My eyes drop to his body. Blood pools around his head, eyes open and void of life.

Swallowing hard, I holster the gun. My head spins. I knew the Westerfords were into weapons. I suppose I could have assumed, drawn the connection, that they would be involved with my father. I just didn’t want to believe he could have infiltrated my one safe space away from his bullshit. That his reach could truly go so far.

“What are you doing here?” I finally force out. It’s a stupid question. I know the answer. But I still want to hear him say it.

“Well, I was in town and thought I’d check in on one of my business ventures,” he says, and there it is. The final blow to the false reality I’ve been holding. No matter how far I go, I’ll never outrun him.

“Well”—I gesture to the corpse—“looks like you’ll have to conduct some interviews while you’re here.”

He folds his arms, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. The same look he had before punishing Ollie and me when we were kids. “This is your mess.” His disgusted gaze trails Jude before returning to mine. “Yours to clean up.”

I huff a laugh. “You’re fucking delusional.”

“Were the instructions not clear enough, Aster?” His eyes narrow. “You work for us. Killing this little rat here doesn’t change that.”

My lips part. “You…” My heart is in my throat. Chest aching. “You were part of this? Of everything?”

“Well, not everything,” he says, pacing the carpet. “The skeleton art, that’s all their crazy idea. Turns out the only thing worth more than a hit is a hit with a gruesome trophy. And I’m always eager for any excuse to increase profits. But I may or may not have assisted in the supply of bodies.” He grins. “You too.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.” Anger thrums through my veins. “I’m not working for you. I told you after Oliver was killed, and I’m telling you now. I’m done doing your bidding.”

He laughs. A deep, throaty laugh that has me wanting to willow inside myself and hide in the closet like I did as a child. “Aster.” His voice is calm and cool in a way that only heightens my anxiety. “You’ve been working for me for years.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Yes.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

His smile is sinister. “Jackson,” he says, and my heart stops. “He works for me.”

My head continues to shake. “We… we only went after criminals.” Was he killing for my father too? Did Jackson assign me the bodies he didn’t have time for?

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

My entire world spins. Down is up. Right is left. And the past years of my life, the lives I’ve taken, have all been for what? For him?

I’ve dropped 109 bodies. How many were undeserved?

I was naive to trust Jackson. Did I really think that just because we grew up together, because he knew Oliver, he was trustworthy? He seemed so angry when Ollie died. There must be an explanation. How could he do this?

I thought it was the perfect partnership. He worked for the department and would have the best leads. I would take them out. He claimed to have a benefactor who compensated my efforts from time to time. I never questioned it.

Regret courses through me.

“I see your wheels spinning, boy,” he tells me, and the way he still treats me as if I’m a child when I’m a thirty-four-year-old man infuriates me. “But there’s no escaping this one.”

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, voice but a whisper.

“Did you really think I was just going to let you run off and do whatever the hell you wanted? Our family has power you can’t imagine. More money than some countries! And there’s no way I’d ever let you run rampant, killing my contacts and associates. That would really get in the way of my business.”

I grit my teeth. “Who was Frederick Vetrel to you?”

He waves a hand. “Local distributor. Easily replaceable.” He smiles. “But I was intrigued to see the video of his kill. You went off on your own for that one.” I’ve been reckless. Love has made me reckless. “I can only imagine it was to save your little bitch.”