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“Actually, I do. I was there with him. I was there withbothof them. Being burned alive.” Mason blinks, and for that heartbeat I see the flames in his face. See the terror and the shock of that night. “We didn’t have a lot of time, but he told me what he wanted.”
I hate that I can sit through this. I hate that I haven’t burst into tears or stopped breathing or had a heart attack. I hate that the alleys taught me to swallow my fear and pain and let it cut me where nobody else could see.
I resent, with every cell in my body, that I can sit here, looking at Mason like this conversation doesn’t hurt in a thousand different ways.
Part of me howls with jealousy that he was the last one to hear our parents’ voices. Part of me can’t draw breath for how guilty I feel that I wasn’t there, too. And part of me wants so badly to believe him that it’s a knife making a slow path through my skin.
“He told you what he wanted foryou.” I look at Mason, steady, like the shell of a person I am. “He promised you’d make it.”
We all know our Dad’s last words, and not because Mason wanted to tell us. It was a fact that only came out when he was high on painkillers or losing his mind from the pain.
“HehopedI would make it. He had to believe I would. Because when he was breaking that fucking window, Gabriel, he asked me to take care of you. Of all of you.” One hand goes to his chest. “And I’ve been failing.” Mason steels himself. “Be angry with me all you want, but you’re not doing this. Your company is joining Phoenix.”
“No.”
“Noisn’t on the table. I’ll do a hostile takeover if I have to. Then you can use whatever resources of mine you want to do this the right way.” Mason’s eyes have gone brighter, the green turning a particular shade that echoes his desperation. I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen it too many times. It still makes my heart race. “With lawyers. With lawsuits. Not with some suicide mission. You’re not becoming a member of that fucking consortium.”
I’m careful, so careful, with the coffee mug. I let it rest on the tablecloth, then rise to my feet. Brush at my shirt, though there won’t be any crumbs.
“That’s what you don’t understand, big brother. I already did. I’m already in. They accepted me. Now I’m going to destroy it from the inside, and there’s nothing any of you can do to stop me.”
A moment of silence.
Then brunch goes up in flames.
2
ELISE
I’mawake when my phone rings.
I shouldn’t be. It’s well after midnight. Almost one, according to my alarm clock. The phone is just beginning its secondbuzzzzzwhen I swipe it off my bedside table.
Lydia Bettencourt,the screen says.
I throw off the covers, climb out of bed, and answer.
“Hey, Lyd. Are you okay?”
Sound comes through the speaker first. Someone shouting. Heavy bass. Quick footsteps on gravel. “I’m fine. Can you come get me?”
My little sister’s lying. Her brand-new iPhone picks up her quick, nervous breathing and the shake in her voice.MyiPhone might be four years old with two chipped corners, but the speaker works just fine. Adrenaline hits my veins like pure, sharp sugar.
“Of course I can. Where are you?” My stomach clenches. Please, let her be close enough to take the subway. I need to know what happened to make her voice so shaky, but I can’t ask her until she’s with me. Until she’s safe and sound.
“I’m in Brentwood.” Her voice goes up like she’s asking a question.Brentwood? Can you still come get me?
My pulse pounds at the side of my neck. Leggings. A crew neck sweatshirt that has a cartoon stick of butter on the front. Brentwood is over an hour away by car.
I don’t have a car.
“Okay. Are you in a safe place right now? Is there somewhere you can go to wait for me?”
“I’m—” Lydia’s voice sounds thick now. She clears her throat. “I was at a party. Please don’t be mad. I know I shouldn’t have come, but—”
“No. It’s okay. I’m not upset with you, I promise, Lyddie. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
How am I supposed to get there? An Uber, maybe, but there’s no telling what condition Lydia’s actually in. If she’s hurt, if she needs ahospital,the driver might refuse to bring us back. There’s enough money in my account to cover the ride, except I don’t know if I trust a random driver right now.
