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He places his finger to his lips and shakes his head. Then he nods for me to follow him as he heads back down the hallway and toward the stairs. I silently follow, my mind rewinding over what happened with Allura.
Maybe she didn’t want me touching her? She seemed okay with it until that point. But sometimes people can be okay with something until a memory creeps up on them and steals that okay-ness away. That’s what it felt like when she freaked out.
“I shouldn’t have touched her like that,” I admit as Blaise and I reach the bottom of the stairs. “It was too soon.”
Instead of responding, he goes over to the bar and pours himself a glass of whiskey. Allura made a joke about it being an old man’s drink, but in the mafia world, it’s basically what everyone drinks. Then again, most of the upper management and bosses are old men, so …
Blaise downs the drink then sets the glass down on the countertop. Then he rests his elbows on the counter and spins the ring on his finger, the one that represents the four of us being sealed together forever.
“I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I feel like something may have happened to Allura.” He glances up at me. “Something similar to what happened to you … And I guess me … but maybe not to that extreme …” He swallows loudly as his focus returns to the ring.
My chest suddenly feels tight, like bricks have been stacked on it. I massage it with my hand, but it doesn’t help.
“Why would you think that?” I ask hoarsely.
“Because of some of the things she’s said and done over the last handful of days,” he utters. “And when I went to walk her up the stairs today, something was going on between her and Levi that didn’t seem right …” Another loud swallow from him, and then he looks at me with anguish radiating from his eyes. “She was on the verge of having a panic attack.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just because the fate ceremony was about to start?” Every part of me is silently begging him to say yes.
“Maybe, but honestly, it felt different. And I mean, she latched on to me when I interrupted whatever Levi was saying to her.” He straightens and wraps his arms around himself. “Plus, I think I recognized the look on her face. It’s the same look you had the night I found you at that party.”
Of course I know what night he’s referring to. I was thirteen, and my father was having a party with his friends and acquaintances—a party for adults. I shouldn’t have been there, but my father allowed it. I didn’t know why at the time. I discovered the fucked-up truth later.
“No.” I shake my head in denial. “We made sure nothing would happen to her when Ryder claimed her. No one would go against him. Not with who his father is.”
“Levi is Allura’s father’s capo,” Blaise reminds me. “Not to mention he’s also a cocky motherfucker who thinks he owns everyone else.”
“Why would he do that and not say anything about it?”
Because if he had, he’d be marrying Allura right now.
“I’m not sure.” Blaise stares down at the ring on his hand. “Reece, if he did anything to her, I swear to God, I will kill him.”
“I know,” I whisper as potent rage pours through my body. “I know.”
The problem is, killing a capo, even for guys in our position, is dangerous. A rule exists that capos are untouchable, almost as much as bosses. Eliminating one equals a war, which would mean all four of our families would be at war.
And our arrangement would fall apart, leaving us back to where we started.
With no future together.
Which is nothing, really.
“We can’t jump to conclusions yet,” Blaise says, “but we do need to look into it. We also need to tell Ryder, but with caution. You know he’s going to lose his shit.”
I nod in agreement, hoping to God this doesn’t end in blood, just like almost everything else.
THIRTY
ALLURA
The lights are off in my new bedroom. I never turned them on. I simply walked in, closed the door, and with the moonlight trickling through the window, I was able to find the bed. I lay down on it, and that’s how I’ve remained for who knows how long?
I’ve been staring up at the ceiling, pondering my life and my fate. My past, my present, and my future. The guys.
Why did I have to freak out in front of them? Now there will be questions, ones I can’t answer. Then again, why do I even care if I don’t answer them? How conveniently I’ve forgotten about the last three years. How easily I’ve got caught up in the past—in them.
It’s difficult not to.
