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I wipe my eyes. “Dad’s here. He was just about to tell me I have to quit my job.”
“He’s probably right. Emin’s not going to let you go now.”
“Emin can fuck himself.”
“Daley, this war, it’s going to get bad.”
“What’s that have to do with me and you?”
He smiles softly and squeezes my hand. “That’s a good point.”
“When you’re better, I want to go somewhere. I don’t know where. Somewhere far, far from the clans. Can you do that? Will you come with me?”
He’s grinning now. “You’re just saying that because you’re happy I’m not dead.”
“I mean it.”
“Daley—”
“Seriously, Rian.”
He looks so sad, like the weight of what happened is still threatening to crush him down. “Your dad knows about Queenie. He knows what happened to Megan.”
I stare at him, a pulse of shock running down my spine. “What?” I whisper. I suspected, but that’s different from knowing for sure.
“He told me before I came to save you. I made him swear he’d give me the full story if I got you out.”
“You did what?”
“I know, it’s crazy and stupid, but I wasn’t sure I’d even survive so I took a shot.”
I try to process this information. Dad knows Queenie. He knows the truth about Megan. He knows me and Rian are looking for her, and that means all my worst fears are true.
“Did he do it?” I whisper, fighting back more tears, because I’m so tired of crying.
“No, I don’t think so, but he knows who did. Daley, don’t ask him yet. Wait for me.”
“You might be stuck in here for weeks.”
“Days at most. I can’t afford weeks. I’ll go bankrupt.”
“Rian—”
“I’m serious.” He tightens his grip on my fingers. “Don’t ask him without me. He’ll find a way to weasel out of it. We need to do this together.”
I take a deep breath and nod. “Fine. And then we run away.”
“Daley, I’ll go absolutely anywhere you want.” He slowly lifts my fingers to his lips and kisses them. “Absolutely anywhere, so long as you’re there.”
Chapter 31
Rian
I step down from the truck’s passenger seat and lean against the door to catch my breath. It’s pretty pathetic that I can’t get in and out of a goddamn truck without having to take a break, but here I am. Emin’s bullet pierced my left lung, barely missing my heart, and the doctors had to inflate me like a damn balloon and stitch me back up. They think it’ll heal okay, but I won’t be running a marathon any time soon.
“Need some help?” Daley asks, coming to my side, but I wave her off.
“I’m fine, just got to go slow.” I walk forward, straightening my back. I’m too damn proud to use a cane or a walking aid, and she knows it, so she stays close, right at my elbow, waiting to catch me in case I falter. I clench my jaw, annoyed that she’s treating me like I can’t handle myself anymore, but she’s not wrong. I spent two weeks in the hospital dealing with multiple gunshot wounds, and the only reason I’m not bankrupt is because Chief Halloran called in some favors. All the guys injured in the fight were taken care of, though not all of them got to leave like I did.
“Are you ready for this?” Daley speaks quietly, taking my arm. I like the weight of her hand on my bicep, a few inches below where Maceo’s knife bit into my flesh. Over the days and weeks staying in the hospital, Daley told me the whole story in bits and pieces—she still can’t get it out without breaking down, and I didn’t want to push her.
“I’m ready,” I say and slowly move forward, taking it as easy as I can. “United front. He won’t wriggle out of this.”
“You should see him. Ever since the fight, he’s been on edge. Drinking more. Yelling more.” She shakes her head. “It’s bad.”
“He can scream all he wants. He’s telling us the truth.”
She nods, but she doesn’t seem so sure.
Daley’s house was always a dark place. Her father’s rage, her brother’s death. There was nothing normal about her upbringing. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like if her mother hadn’t died when Daley was still little. They never talk about their mom, though I know the older boys remember her. It’s like whenever trauma happens in their little world, they work together to suppress it and move on.
Meanwhile, my world is a constant background hum of anger. I feel it in my bones, buzzing. Deep in the marrow, in my core. It’s there, a constant presence, and for the longest time I thought the anger defined me. It was who I am, who I would always be, but now I wonder. Daley clings to my arm, acting like she’s using me for balance when I’m the one that needs her.
