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“No,” Milo said slowly. “We won’t.”
That shocked the shit out of me. “This is going to get worse before it gets better.”
“It’s already worse,” Jasper said, then he clasped a hand to my shoulder before passing me a plate. “Sending her away… I like the idea of her being safe. I don’t like the idea of her not being with us.”
“Agreed,” Liam and Milo said in the same breath. Any other time I might have laughed at the looks they shot each other, like they were surprised they agreed. This wasn’t funny, in any case.
“Look,” Liam continued as he settled against the counter to eat. The lack of chairs around the table didn’t invite anyone to sit. “We lay it out, we work out a plan, we take this whole thing on, and we do it with her. Sheisone of us. If she goes for it, we also make evacuating her an option.”
“We could send Freddie with her,” I said. “That gets him out of this too.”
“No,” Jasper said, before Liam could say anything, earning him narrow-eyed looks from the others. “I get it,” he said, sweeping us with a stare. “I get wanting them safe, but here’s the thing—sheis the target. We take her out of play, and there is every chance we will have to keep her out. ‘Cause all they have to do is go quiet, go deep, and we know that motherfucker has the money to do it.”
“Then there’s her mother,” Milo said as he straightened. “We still don’t have a firm grip on her mental status. And I don’t want Ivy out of reach. Here—here, we can look after her. We can protect her back. We know who we trust, and no offense to your friends—they aren’t us.”
“Agreed,” Liam said. “I was just going to go with, no, she isn’t going. Although I like their reasoning, too.”
“So do I,” Little Bit said, and it twisted all of us around. She stood in the doorway with Kellan, Rome, and Vaughn lined behind her. They were all freshly showered, her lips were puffy, and there were definite hickeys on her neck. But it was the dark sobriety in her eyes that arrested me. “If it protects all of you for me to go—if it is the only option—we can discuss it. However, I don’t want to leave. I want to be here…this fight is coming for you because…because my uncle is coming for me.”
The steadiness in those words had me flick a look at Milo. His lips compressed, though his expression held. She’d told him.
Setting the plate aside, I held out a hand to her. To my absolute gratification, she came straight to me and I pulled her close, hugging her. “I don’t want to ask you to leave,” I told her. “I never want that, but I do want you safe.”
“Then let me help,” she said against my shirt, and I sighed as I tucked my face against her hair. “Let me do what I can. I’ve gotten pretty good at following the rules.”
“And she’s a damn good shot,” Kellan added. “We will take it under advisement, Doc. We get it. We really do.”
I just lost Steph. I could not lose Little Bit. None of us could. Squeezing her, I sighed. “We’ll keep it as a fallback plan.”
When she leaned back to look at me, I cupped her cheek. She leaned into my palm and it settled some of my restlessness. “Fallback plan.”
Her eyes brightened a fraction.
“Someone want to tell me where the fuck all the chairs went?” Kellan asked. “And why are we remodeling that wall?”
“Percussion therapy,” Milo deadpanned his answer without missing a beat. “I’m working on my feelings. It’s taking some practice.”
The corners of Little Bit’s lips twitched, and she wasn’t alone. Laughter, a little wild and a little disbelieving, surged around the group, even as she wrapped her arms around me again and I cradled her to me.
No. I refused to lose her. We couldn’t send her away. We just needed a more efficient and brutal plan.
CHAPTER11
EMERSYN
It was raining the day of the funeral, like we were in one of the movies we’d watched. The debate over the service had been tense, from the location to the burial. They discussed everything from the investigation from the cops, the security, and whether we risked anything by being out there.
Ultimately, everyone had focused on what Mickey needed. Milo was hurting. They were all hurting. The day before the funeral, I’d gone with Rome and Liam to check on Liam’s mother, but he hadn’t wanted to linger. She was not ready for a funeral for his father. Despite the fact she was heartbroken hadn’t been lost on me.
Rome settled into the chair next to Mary O’Connell’s, and he’d pulled out his sketchbook while she spoke to Liam. I’d sat with Liam, with his hand clasped firmly in mine. Halfway through, Mary broke off her reminiscing to stare at the sketchbook.
“Is that…”
He held it up so she could see the sketch of Jonathon standing behind her where she sat. It was haunting and elegant. “I can stop,” Rome offered.
“Sweet boy, no, that’s—that’s so beautiful.”
The soft smile he gave her had Liam gripping my fingers so hard it hurt for a moment. His brother was comforting his mother, and in his very particular way, Rome was offering comfort to Liam.
