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I can feel my anger rising.
“This has consequences, Frankie.”
“Everything has fucking consequences, Grayson,” I snarl back. “Twenty-one years ago, O’Sullivan fired a round of bullets that spun all of this into motion, and now my son is dead. MY SON IS DEAD!” I roar this so loudly the echo in the car feels like an earthquake. With another roar, I hang up and chuck the phone away, my restraint in pieces.
I wait for the tears. More rage.Anything.
But all I want is Ada.
* * *
It’s gonesix by the time I stagger through the front doors of Encore.
The casino is still packed. I even recognise a few faces from the night before, though their designer suits are looking crumpled now, and their make-up is more sweat than matte. I applied for a twenty-four-hour license from the commission, and London’s gamblers are clearly taking advantage.
I’m drunk.
Seriously fucking drunk.
I jumped headfirst into a bottle of whiskey, and I’m still swimming in it.I also have fifteen missed calls on my phone, but none of them are from Silas.
Muttering a greeting to Nancy when I reach my office, I slip my suit jacket off with the intention of throwing it over her desk, but I miss it by a couple of feet, and it lands on the floor instead.
“Shit.”
She stares at my loaded holster with bug eyes, but wisely chooses not to comment. “Would you like a coffee, Mr. Lastra?”
“Good idea. Extra strong.” I need to sober up and fast. Silas has never been off the grid for this long, and I need to track him down. “Is Viper in?”
“There’s no sign of Mr. Viper yet, sir, but his daughter’s in his office.”
Entering without knocking, I find Bambi sitting cross-legged in his chair, watching another maths tutorial on her laptop. She tries to shut it off before I can hear the subject, but she’s not fast enough.
“Simultaneous equations?” I slur, lifting my eyebrows at her as I shut the door. “Can Isimultaneouslydrink at the same time?”
She scowls at me in disapproval. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” I lie.
“Why are grownups so bad at telling the truth?”
“It’s our way of keeping life interesting now that we’re not kids anymore.”
“You’re not selling adulthood to me, Frankie…” She trails off as I toss Ada’s letter onto the desk between us.
“Care to explain why you strolled into a hornet’s nest yesterday? I told you to leave it alone. You keep doing stupid shit like this and you won’t be reaching an adulthood to bitch about.”
“I wanted to meet her,” she says defensively.
“Why?”
She shrugs, in that irritating ‘just because’ teenage way that makes me want to pick my chair up and throw it at the wall.
There’s a knock and Nancy enters with a triple espresso. I drink it in one and request another.
“She said to tell you she loves you,” says Bambi once we’re alone again. “And that she’s not scared.”
Queen move, Ada. You’re still reassuring me even when I’m falling apart without you.
