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“Ivy agreed to help us take down the Killers Club,” Freddie declares. “But she wants a gesture of goodwill in return.”
Callen snorts. “Isn’t her heart still beating goodwill enough?”
“I want you to help me kill a man called Christopher Trout,” I announce.
“The name sounds familiar,” Callen says.
“He worked for Spencer Bexley,” Seb says. Someone must have done their homework when sticking his nose into my past. What else did he find?
Bram sits up straighter, dropping his feet to the ground. His gaze meets mine, making everyone else fall away.
Are you sure?I read his expression.Do you really want to do this?
I nod briskly and continue, “Trout is one of the men who killed my sister. I’ve been working through a hit list, killing everyone who hurt her. Trout is the penultimate name on my list. I’ll help you take the Killers Club down if you help me cross the last names off. Simple.”
“Why would we help you do that?” Seb counters, his business instinct surfacing.
“Because I’m the best chance you have at defeating the club,” I say. “I’ve explained to Freddie that all I want is to tick every name off my list, and the Killers Club have screwed me over, too. If you still want to kill me after we’ve done that, then fine, but I can’t die without making them pay.”
I need this and, with the Duke’s help, I’ll get justice for Daisy.
“We’ll kill Trout first,” Freddie says, “then we’ll take out the Killers Club, and Ivy will get Spencer after that. It’s a compromise.”
Uneasiness hangs in the air. I can’t have Freddie questioning his decision now, so I speak up, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I want you to think about Daisy. My grave may be empty, but hers isn’t. She didn’t deserve to die, and it’s up to us to avenge her. I’m not going to try to run or stab you in the back. I have nowhere else to go; revenge is all I ever wanted. It’s why I joined the Killers Club in the first place.”
“Are you sure about this, Freddie?” Seb asks.
“The deal is done,” Freddie says, clapping his hands. “Why don’t you show Ivy to her room? She can stay there until dinner. I’ve got other business to attend to.”
“Want some company?” Callen asks.
“No,” Freddie snaps. “I need to do this alone.”
The three of them look like they want to argue but stay quiet as he storms out of the house like a hurricane.
Seb nods reluctantly. “Fine.”
“Aren’t you going to help with my bags?” I ask as he walks straight past the spot where Freddie ditched them.
“Did you need to buy a whole new wardrobe?” he mutters sarcastically.
“What’s the matter? Too heavy for you?” I tease, fluttering my eyelashes as Callen cackles. “Can’t you handle it?”
Seb’s expression darkens as he gathers the bags into his arms to prove a point. “I can handle more than you think.”
CHAPTER 30
IVY
“This is pretty different to your last place,” I say, trying to make light conversation as I follow Seb through the living room, which boasts two worn sofas and an ancient TV, and up a narrow flight of stairs.
“We have no choice,” he snaps, “considering the Killers Club knows our identities and all our usual places are compromised.”
So much for trying to be friendly. My nose wrinkles at the distinct powdery old people smell hanging in the air. The carpet is thin underfoot, and the light doesn’t come on when I flick the switch, but the space is bigger than it looks and five doors lead off the landing.
“You’ll be in here,” Seb says, opening the door to a room that can only be described as a glorified cupboard.
There are no windows to break up the yellowing walls. A single bed, which shockingly looks like it has clean sheets, takes up most of the space. Next to it, there’s a chest of drawers with a cracked mirror balanced on top.
