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It’s surreal how a tragedy, repeated multiple times in your life, becomes mundane only hours after shocking the hell out of you.
We lost our families, then friends. Another one might be too late to save, but we already trained our minds to block out the loss and stuff it in the back of our hearts.
Ty scans every one of us, then drops his gaze to the table, which is stained with Bo’s blood. Everyone seems to stare at that dark spot.
“What if we just ask Archer for help?” Ty asks quietly, not raising his eyes. “I mean, he is not a monster, right? He would save Bo, if needed.”
I raise my eyes at him.
It’s such a simple solution. Just talk—everything will be sorted.
But I know from the silence that follows that hate and grudges don’t let go that easily. Not when several people were killed two years ago during the argument. Not when the Westsiders live like kings and we on the Eastside struggle to make ends meet. Not when those slimy black feelings have been simmering inside us since then. Not when we have a suspicion that we are constantly watched, but when Olivia was taken, no help came.
I know better than anyone that words don’t work with Archer Crone. He has forgotten the night of the fire four years ago when I was hauled away in an ambulance. His memory is sure fucking blurry when it comes to the night two years ago when I sabotaged his party, and not two words were spoken before he charged at me, high and angry, and we beat each other to a pulp.
Yeah, showing up at the Westside, bowing, “Hey, Archer, take care of us and save us,” is what he would like but would not get in his fucking dreams. Because there is one thing that is above hate and grudge—pride. The word that, by default, should be used in all caps. It can destroy the entire world and everyone with it.
Ty is the only one of us who is humble enough to suggest asking Crone for help. Ty is better than most of us. That’s the problem. We all wish we were better men.
But we do have a plan.
“It’s a shitty plan,” Owen says, tapping the table with the handle of the pocket knife when we go over the details one more time.
Everyone agrees.
“We might get hurt,” Guff says quietly.
I know. “The point is to create a loud distraction. Without injuring anyone. Without getting in the line of fire. As long as possible.”
“Yeah…” Ty looks around to find Dani, who sits with the rest in the distance. They are giving us space. They are staying behind, and in a way, that’s even worse. Waiting is a poison.
I wish this had nothing to do with Callie. I wish she was with me. I wish someone else’s fate was at stake. Then I would’ve taken it as a job, calculated and level-headed.
Yeah, that’s the key word. While my head might be in the right place, my heart is a fucking tornado when I think of Callie. The flashbacks of what we had in the last several days make me mourn her loss already. But the flashbacks of four years ago make me angry, because my fate is going in fucking circles. My anger makes my blood boil, and I dig in my pocket and light a cigarette to burn away the shakes.
When the cigarette is gone, I exhale loudly.
It’s a sign to the others.
I grab my backpack, pull it over my shoulders, and adjust my baseball hat.
Four hours ago, I was going with the total ‘let’s burn the bitches down’ plan.
It has changed. My revenge might not be cold enough yet, but Ty is a genius.
For what the plan is, I don’t need much. Two guns, ammo, and knives are just in case. What I need is luck—a whole lot of fucking luck, because that’s the only thing that will work against the round-the-clock surveillance that Crone spends more money on than an average city spends on law enforcement.
Ty, Owen, Guff and I go over the last few things as we walk across the dark beach to the boat when Maddy comes running.
“Here. You might need it.” She shoves a small lightweight package into my backpack. Knowing Maddy, I’m sure it’s a first aid kit. I pull her into my arms for a hug. She is like a sister and the most good-hearted human being I know. “Take care of Bo, yeah?”
Ty pulls me into a bear hug too. “If everything fails and your life is at stake,” he says, then pauses. I hold my breath, waiting for his words. He puts his hands on my shoulders with a serious look on his face. “Just suck Archer’s dick and ask for mercy, yeah? I won’t be jealous, babe.”
The guys burst into laughter, and I push the fool away.
“Such an asshole,” I murmur, grinning as I hop onto the partial pier, then into the boat. I don’t want to leave them behind, least of all Ty. But as soon as I rev up the motor, it feels like I will never see their faces again.
So I don’t look back.
