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“Oh, c’mon, Tobias. We’ve been here before. Your father wasn’t a respectful man. He didn’t care what he put on the streets as long as it lined his pockets well. My guess is you’re a little bit dimmer than he used to be. So, what is your family’s recipe made of nowadays? Cement? Rat poison? What gives you the edge?”
I realise I’ve pushed him too far when he goes for me, a fist lined with a set of knuckle dusters suddenly advancing for me. Dylan goes to intervene, only stopped by Beckett coming in faster.
Tobias doesn’t take kindly to the intervention, swinging around to connect with Beckett to move him away. “Let me rip the little bitch’s throat out!”
Beckett isn’t down for too long. “Get her out of here!” he bellows at the men around me.
I don’t get a chance to resist as Dylan rips me from the commotion.
* * *
“Bastard caught you good.”
He flinches the very moment I touch his face, almost to the point of recoiling from a dirty touch.
I’ve watched him since we got back to the palace and the cut to his cheek hasn’t stopped weeping since then.
“I don’t need your help.”
“On the contrary, I think you do.” I give him a bittersweet smile, nothing special, but soft all at once. “You’re just smearing blood on everything.”
“You didn’t seem to care the other night when you had a knife pushed against my jugular.”
“Call me psycho like your business associate.” I shrug. “He did get you good, though. Better than me, apparently.”
I give him a brief grin, one that seems to have him relaxing in my presence.
Silence settles between us. My attention is fixed firmly on the blood that needs cleaning and the wound that needs tending to. It’s the first comfortable silence we’ve had, and it almost feels like we’re kids again, and this was a schoolyard scuffle he’d won.
“Did you mean it?”
“Hmm.” I sound distracted. I slowly drag my eyes from his wounded cheekbone and meet his eyes, a softness in them. “Mean what?”
“That little act you put on after what Tobias said about our intentions for you.”
“Would you use me as a scapegoat?” I ask rhetorically. “We both know our life is more about survival than anything else. You and I, Beck…” I sigh sadly. “We’re the other’s collateral damage. We’re always going to sacrifice the other to win.”
A cough breaks the tension that settles after that comment.
“Got you a drink.”
Sebastian is standing with new tumblers of whiskey, and I know one of those isn’t for me. He looks between Beckett and me with an expectant glance, but when he looks away from me, there’s a subtle lift in his eyebrow. I watch their exchange. It’s quiet, but it’s loud to me, and I drop the damp cloth and put my hands on my thigh. I know I’m not wanted here or needed, so I’ll bow out gracefully where I can.
“I’ll leave you two to it.”
Standing without an objection, I feel colder now I’m away from his side. I might know I have no place here, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting the one I used to have.
