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It feels like old times, Antony and I hanging out together. At least, it feels like the old times should’ve been, because after the coffin I really couldn’t be sure of anything. After a few hours, Queen Boudica is back to her usual self, and I show Antony how she loves to chase bottle caps and fuzzy mice toys around the ballroom. He laughs as he watches her skitter across the floor, skidding on the shiny surface as she pounces on her prey.
I call the school and feign a stomach bug, tell them I won’t be in for the rest of the week. I’m told I’ll have to produce a doctor’s note if I’m out for more than a day, but after everything I’ve done, forging a signature from some doctor isn’t going to weigh on my conscience.
I miss cheerleading trials. I can’t bring myself to care.
Both Gabriel and Eli text me several times, but I delete their messages unread. Every time I think about them, the memory of Queen Boudica lying on the blood-stained tiles makes me burn with anger so bright it blinds me.
“Don’t you have to go back to the club? What about the fight?” I ask on the second day, holding Queen Boudica while Antony stands over the stove, cooking his famous chicken stew. My mouth waters at the delicious smells wafting through the house.
“Tiberius will manage it for me.” Tiberius is Antony’s top fighter – and he’s terrifying. He has this feral look in his eyes like he’ll snap at any moment, and I am totally on board with that. “I’m here as long as you need me, Claws.”
I slide into a seat and dump a can of meat into a bowl for Queen Boudica. She eats with two paws on the table, from her own chair, like a member of the fucking family. Because she is. “Do we have to wait until next week for revenge? I don’t want to take your best guys out of the running.”
“After tonight, my guys are yours.” Antony flips pancakes into a stack and sets it down in front of me. I slather it with butter and maple syrup and dive in. “Write me a list. We’ll hit them all at once, so they’re in no doubt who’s behind it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You got enough people for that?”
“For you, Claws, I’m calling in my troops.”
Queen Boudica’s body rumbles with happy purrs as she licks her plate clean. I pull up the Notepad app on my phone and start typing names. Alec, for invading my home and hurting my cat. Noah, because it was probably his idea. I kicked him in the balls so hard he’d be swallowing. No way did he not have anything to do with this.
Eli, for telling them about my secret entrance. Cleo, because she’s a bitch and I hate her guts. I add all of their dumb jock friends and Cleo’s minions. Gabriel… I pause over his name, feeling a tiny stab of guilt as I add it to my list. This is for shoving me into the pool, for taking my first kiss and turning it into something ugly. I push the phone toward Antony.
“That will do. For now.”
Antony whistles under his breath as he reads the names. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Appalled at the bare state of my cupboards, Antony sends his boys out for groceries. I notice him handing off a stack of cash to a fighter named Horace. For the first time in far too long, I study Antony with an objective eye, trying to see past my protective cousin filter into what’s going on with him.
The first thing I notice is that my cousin’s clothes are designer, and his suit hugs his cut body like he’s been poured into it. The second thing I notice is the outline of a pistol strapped across his chest.
I think back to our conversation after the cop came to the house, when I was panicking over what I’d said. Antony was the one who urged me to enroll at Stonehurst for real. “We’re in a position where this could work to our advantage,” he’d said, and he used his connections to make it happen. And I wonder now, too late, just what my cousin had been doing to get himself so connected.
Antony and I may have been family, but we aren’t immune to keeping secrets from each other.
“You sure you still want to be a lawyer?” I tug on his sleeve. “You’re doing pretty well for yourself as the owner of an underground fight club.”
Almost too well, I want to say, but I don’t. I want Antony to tell me.
“The club is a means to an end,” he replies, his voice easy. “I treat my fighters well. They’re loyal to me, which gives me immunity. Brutus is too chicken shit to get through them to me, so I’m untouchable for now. That means you are, too.”
Brutus. At the sound of his name, my blood runs cold. The echo starts in my ears – my screams bouncing back on me from inside the coffin.
I hadn’t thought about him for so long. Too long. It’s easy to forget in this glittering palace of lies and secrets that Brutus is still breathing air when my parents were—
No.
To think of him now will be to give over to the rage. And I’m not ready. Antony and I… we have a plan. We’re playing the long-game, and we are so, so close to winning.
I have to keep a clear head, because there are other assholes much closer to home who deserve all my attention.
Queen Boudica will have her revenge.
We have hours before showtime, and Antony doesn’t want me too agitated. We curl up in the movie room. I set the popcorn machine running, and Antony spreads out a feast of junk food. We watch a stream of horror films. Blood flows down the screen, limbs fly everywhere, and Antony giggles. I laugh, too. We’re both sick in the head, probably because of all the horror we lived through for real.
That’s Antony and me in a nutshell, laughing as the world drowns in blood.
Antony gets a message on his phone. He grabs my hand. “Let’s go.”
