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“And apparently he hated the fucker,” Xavier says. “They don’t work together anymore because Corey tried to kill him. When Charlie found Corey to talk about it, he was more than eager to help.” Silence leans her temple against my bicep, still clearly concerned. “I trust Charlie’s judgement, Q. Don’t worry.”
She nods, clinging tighter to my hand. Someone knocks, and Xavier answers it to Charlie. He ducks to get his head under the doorframe, and behind him is a man in his fifties, silver hair covered in a battered cap, his face scarred and scowling. He’s in a heavy green overcoat and looks like he’s about to go fishing, not on a murder spree.
“Corey, everyone, everyone, Corey,” Charlie says, and seemingly the pleasantries are over. “He knows where Ryker is.”
Corey shoves his hands into his pockets, eyeing us. “I wanna be the one to kill the prick, too.”
“That position is taken,” Xavier says. “Where is he?” But Corey’s attention has moved to Silence. He’s staring at her, his already tense persona tightening further.
Irritation prickles the back of my neck. “She’s taken.”
“Times three,” Xavier snaps.
“No, fuck, she’s way too young for me. Jesus,” Corey barks, and runs his hand over his graying stubble. “She’s why I tried to kill Ryker. We had a meeting once and he had pictures of her on his desk. And other things … y’know, panties and stuff. Creepy little prick. I would’ve broken his fucking face if he weren’t armed.” Silence’s hand tightens around mine. “I would’ve found ya to warn ya, but I didn’t know who ya were.”
Silence voice is soft. “Thank you. For defending me.”
He shrugs. “It’s not right, doing stuff like that.”
Mercy suddenly appears and sprays Xavier with cologne. He coughs, wrinkling his nose. “What the fuck, Mercy?”
“What does that smell like?” she asks, examining his expression.
“I dunno. Fucking cologne?” He wafts the air in front of him. “Bad cologne, too. I smell like a forest floor.”
“Biscuits,” she mumbles. “If it doesn’t smell good, people won’t use it.”
“You’re going into cosmetics, now?” Envy asks dryly.
Mercy shakes her head, examining the glass bottle. “It’s a nerve agent but disguised as—” We all simultaneously take large steps back, and she tuts. “It’s not active!”
“You should try a deodorant. People expect a bit of medicinal shit in that.”
We all look at Corey. He’s the only one who didn’t try to run from the cologne of death, and I don’t know what that says about him.
Mercy looks away thoughtfully. “That’s good. That’s very good. Who are you?”
He flushes and clears his throat, snatching off his cap. “Corey Riley, ma’am. I spent a few years in prison and got creative with weaponry. Once made a bomb outta noodles, spices and aftershave. Didn’t do much harm but made the officers run.” He grins, and Mercy beams at him.
“Mr. Riley, would you like to take a look at my range of nerve agents?”
His eyes brighten. “I’d love to.”
As Mercy links her arm through his and they saunter away, already deep in conversation. I say, “Did we just witness the birth of something horrific?”
Silence hums in agreement.
Xavier looks at his watch. “Sixteen hours until we’re supposed to meet Ryker. We need to get a plan together and make sure everyone’s clear on it. Thirty minutes, then we all meet in the living room.”
Once Xavier and I have run through the plan, I whip up some stew for Charlie’s guys. I encourage Silence to eat, but she spends most of her time playing with her wedding ring and staring out the window, like she’s expecting Zayden to come back of his own accord. I’m naively hoping for the same thing.
Food eaten, bags packed, we gather in the living room. Xavier and I stand at the front, and Zayden’s absence is felt more than ever. Xavier’s arms are folded, but he’s rubbing his thumb across his forefinger and fidgeting in place. Silence is watching him, brows furrowed gently.
“He’s gonna be proud of you,” I say.
Xavier looks at me. “Who?”
“Z. You’re doing good.”
