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It’s Aida who convinces him. “I’ll be safe with Callum,” she says.
She gives her oldest brother a quick hug and squeezes Nero’s arm.
“I’ll see you both soon,” she says.
As I pull the car away from the curb I say, without looking at her, “I’m glad you stayed with me.”
Aida tilts her head, looking at my profile while I drive.
“I want us to be partners,” she says. “Not just . . . unwilling roommates.”
“I want that, too,” I tell her.
Easier said than done. But it doesn’t seem impossible anymore. I’m starting to believe that Aida and I could actually work together. We could be stronger together than apart.
Aida sighs.
“He certainly hit us where it hurts,” she says.
“Because the tower is such a big project?” I ask her.
“No. It’s not the money, exactly. It’s the work—we have to provide a constant flow of contracts to the various trades and unions to keep them loyal. The materials, the jobs—if you can’t feed the machine, then it all grinds to a halt. And of course,” she casts a sideways look at me, “there’re the other layers of the machine. The shipments that carry more than lumber. The businesses that wash money for the other businesses. It’s a web, all interconnected, all reliant on the smooth operation of the individual parts.”
I nod. “We work the same.”
Our businesses may differ, but the strategies are similar.
“The election is only a couple of days away,” Aida muses. “I wonder if Zajac will try to blow that up, too.”
My hands tighten around the steering wheel.
“If he tries, the Butcher’s going to find himself on the wrong end of the cleaver this time around.”
19
Aida
I have to leave early the next morning, because I’ve got a literature class I don’t want to miss. I’ve been buckling down this semester, actually passing my classes. I think it’s time to quit fucking around and finish my degree.
Callum doesn’t want me going anywhere until this thing with Zajac has come to a head, but he finally relents under the condition that Nessa and I have one of his men drive us to school.
Unfortunately, the only person available is Jack.
Under orders from Callum, he opens the car door for me with forced politeness, but waves of loathing are rolling off him and me. The tension in the car is so thick that poor Nessa is wide-eyed and confused, too uncomfortable to engage in her usual stream of cheerful conversation.
“So, uh, did you guys see there’s supposed to be some kind of meteor shower tonight?” she asks us.
Jack grunts from the driver’s seat.
I’m looking at the back of his head, wondering if it would be worth another fight with Callum to just pop Jack once in the ear when we pull up to campus.
“What?” I say to Nessa.
“I said—oh, never mind.”
Jack drops us off in front of the Cudahy library, his eyes fixed rigidly ahead as he waits for us to get out of the car.
“Thank you, Jack,” Ness says politely as she climbs out.
