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“I’m sorry,” I repeated, then, deciding to go for broke with the truth, I admitted rawly, “If I’d known she was in danger, I’d have made sure that she was secured. I’ll regret it until the day I die that I let you both down.”
My honest words earned me a sneer. “I’ll regret the fact that you knew each other until the day I die.”
I flinched but Conor was the one who stated, “We’ll stand here until the service is over and we’ll pay our respects then.”
That seemed to infuriate her even more because she shoved off a woman’s arm who’d been holding her back and stormed forward. Hair flickering around her face, she snarled, “You’re not wanted here."
Bowen surprised me by stepping toward her and pressing his hand to her arm.
Head whipping to the side, she snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone. It’s my right to throw out unwanted guests.”
Bowen’s touch gentled, but to us, he directed, “I think it’s best if you return to the hotel.”
“You knew she was in the city?” Minnie cried, shooting him a look of betrayal to which he heaved a sigh.
“Of course I did. Ovianar and her were close at one time, Minerva. It’s only natural that she’d—”
“Get her killed? Everyone around you dies, Star,” Minnie spat. “You’re fucking poison. I hope to God I never see you again. Get away from my family. O’s the only one you can’t hurt anymore and I’m not willing to risk having you around the rest. Go. GO!”
I staggered back at her dismissal. Her vitriol came as no surprise, but it didn’t stop the tears from pricking my eyes as I tugged on Conor’s arm and prompted him to retreat with me.
He was silent on the walk back to the car, and the silence continued on the drive to the hotel because I wasn’t about to take more of a verbal beating from Minnie for sticking around to pay respects that only needed to be given for a miscalculation on my part.
I was relieved about the quiet because I didn’t feel like talking, not even when Conor tucked a Jolly Rancher in my hand.
Minnie’s words had hit a sore spot. Hell, the sorest of spots.
“You’re not poison. Nor are you cancer.”
That was the first thing he said to me once we were back in the suite, and I shot him a tired look. I didn’t bother arguing with him though. Just patted his chest and returned to the dinner table where this morning’s papers were still spread out.
He ordered coffee for us, two club sandwiches showed up at the same time, and he pulled out his laptop and did some work while I read through the headlines.
It was a testament to how the papers were flooded with dirty gossip from the Capitol that the article was barely more than a couple inches long.
Disgraced ex-Chief Justice DeLaCroix found dead in his cell.
My brows lifted as I read the rest of the column before I told Conor, “DeLaCroix’s dead.”
He smirked. “Finn owes me brownies for life.”
That had me blinking. “What does the one-time head of the Sparrows dying have to do with you getting brownies for life from Finn?”
“We had a bet on when he’d die.”
“You should have said. I’d have asked Troy—”
“Nah. We agreed we wouldn’t manipulate the outcome.” He stretched his arms out in front of him. “Feels good knowing that the bastard’s dead?”
I hummed. “Someone gave him a cyanide capsule. Wonder who was behind that.”
“How very Nazi Germany of them.”
My lips twitched at his dry humor. “You’d be surprised how many spies still carry them around.”
“Death before dishonor?”
“No. More like death before waterboarding. I didn’t mind waterboarding. Not my idea of a good time but—”
