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My throat tightened on the words, but I forged ahead, keeping my voice cool and clinical as I described the terrifying events of that night.
“He drove me to an alley, and I… I realized then what a stupid, stupid mistake I’d made. I forced my way out of the car and tried to run, but he came after me. He tried to rape me, and he intended to kill me. Which he would have, if I hadn’t… gotten ahold of his gun and shot him.”
As I finished speaking, the air in the room seemed to grow so thick it was almost like a physical presence. The boys all stood stock still, staring at me with stark expressions. But I ignored them, keeping my gaze focused only on Nathaniel.
I didn’t expect it, but as I spoke, Nathaniel’s gaze softened. There was an understanding that I wouldn’t have predicted in his eyes, and he gave another resigned sigh as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
“Is that so?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And you then managed to cover up the murder and hide the body, disposing of it well enough that neither my men nor the cops have found it yet?”
My heart crashed against my ribs, but I swallowed and nodded again.
“Yes.”
Nathaniel took a drag from his cigarette, blowing out the smoke before licking his lips. Josephine was gazing at me with pitying eyes, and my stomach sank. She didn’t believe me. And neither did her husband.
I refused to back down though. I’d made my choice, and I would die defending it.
Taking a step forward, I drew in a shaken breath. “Please… If there’s anyone that’s responsible for this, it’s me. I made a mistake, and that was why Flint died. If I hadn’t agreed to meet with him alone, maybe I could’ve avoided this.”
The softness was still in Nathaniel’s voice as he leaned forward slightly. “I know what you’re trying to do, Cordelia. But let’s give up the game here, shall we? If we’re going to figure a way out of this mess, I’ll need the actual truth.”
“The truth is, we killed him. And we covered it up.”
Bishop’s voice cut through the air, and my heart sank.
No. No, no, no.
Why couldn’t they just have let me take this on myself? They shouldn’t have had to kill Flint at all, and they shouldn’t have been the ones to deal with the body. It should’ve been me. It all should’ve been me.
“It was my fault,” I insisted, raising my voice as I drew Nathaniel’s gaze away from Bishop. “Everything else I told you was true, sir. I found Flint’s phone number and called him. I set up the meeting. I stupidly let him get me alone. And I was trying to fight him off when the boys showed up and… and took care of him.”
Nathaniel rested his cigarette in an ashtray on his desk, then scrubbed a hand over his chin. His eyes were a little harder now, more assessing, as he shifted his gaze between me and Bishop.
“Well. That, at least, has the ring of truth to it. But there’s a difference between being a young girl trying to do what she thinks is right and three of my own men going off and killing another of mine. It’s not so easy to dismiss things like that, you see.”
“We’ll take whatever punishment you think is necessary,” Bishop spoke up. “But I’m not going to apologize for handling Flint the way we did. He was a sick fucking bastard, and he deserved it.”
Nathaniel’s head tilted sharply, his dark eyes flashing. “Maybe. But it’s not your job to be judge, jury, and executioner, is it, Bishop Madigan?” His gaze flicked to the other two boys. “Which one of you killed him? Unless you all pulled a trigger?”
Bish began to speak again, but to my surprise, Josephine stepped forward, walking around the side of the desk to approach us.
“That’s not the point. Only one of you did, but you all wanted to, didn’t you?”
There was a moment of hesitation as all the boys looked at her, and I wondered how accustomed they were to Josephine speaking in these meetings. She obviously knew the ins and outs of her husband’s business and wasn’t kept in the dark or left on the sidelines—but I wasn’t sure how often she took an active role in it.
“Yes,” Bish said finally.
“Fuck yeah,” Misael echoed, his voice angry and fervent.
Kace just nodded, looking like he wished he could kill the fucker again.
Josephine nodded, looking at each boy in turn before shifting her focus to me.
“You’re lucky to have three boys who care about you so much, Cordelia,” she murmured. Then she returned to Nathaniel’s side, tilting his head up by the chin so he could look at her.
