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A few curious eyes turn toward him, but no one asks any questions. We say our good-byes, and I let them all know that another meeting will happen soon. As Geo shuts the door behind himself, I turn.
“What?” Dean asks, but he knows. He baited me by asking the question earlier.
“What do you know about her?” I ask, and I can see the responses flitting across his eyes. “And before you decide to lie to me, tell the truth.”
This whole world is built on lies, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the games and the secrets. I’m tired of knowing that my father and all of their fathers are involved in some deep shit and not knowing exactly what it is.
“She was there,” he finally says on a sigh.
“Where?”
“That night, at Club Belladonna.”
I stalk forward, grabbing the neck of his shirt, and pull him to me. I can feel the anger boiling in my blood, spurring me on, and my fingers itch to inflict pain instead.
“What do you mean, she was there? Why haven’t I heard anything about this?”
“I-I didn’t know. I was doing what I had been told.”
“And you didn’t think you should tell me about it?”
“It was a year and a half ago. I forgot until I saw her at the funeral.”
My fingers tighten, my knuckles white, brushing against his throat. His eyes dart back and forth between my own.
“You should have told me a year and a half ago.”
“I didn’t know she had anything to do with anything, I swear,” he says, throwing his arms out to the sides. “But I know she was there.”
“Tell me everything again.” I release him, shoving him backward until the backs of his knees hit a chair and he sits down heavily.
I sit across from him, hook my ankle over my knee in a deceptively casual pose, and steeple my hands. He rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head.
“I told you then what I knew,” he starts to say, and I hold up my hand.
“Obviously not if I didn’t even know about this girl.”
“She wasn’t important,” he declares, his voice taking on a panicked tone.
“Wasn’t she? Talk now, or I’ll have no qualms about taking you to the basement.”
His face pales. “You can’t do that. William wouldn’t allow it,” he blusters, blowing out a breath of air.
“He wouldn’t?” I ask.
He wouldn’t, and I know this, but Dean doesn’t. He’s always been the nervous type, and frankly, I’m surprised he’s agreed to join our band of rebels, given the fact that he knows what would happen to us if we were found out. Maybe he’s got some shit buried that he wants revenge for too.
“I was acting on their orders,” he protests.
I shake my head, putting my foot down and leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees and my chin on my fingers. “Whose orders?”
“The bosses, all of them. Bertrand told me there was a package being delivered that night at the club. I was shown a picture of my target, and my only orders were to get her out into the alley by any means necessary.”
“And you didn’t ask any questions or wonder why he wanted you to do it, not me?”
“You know we don’t ask questions. We do their work and keep our mouths shut.”
“But you knew who she was when you saw her, right?”
