“What? How is this your fault, Z?” I say, wrapping my arms around her short body.
“Because you said something wasn’t right, and I ignored you,” she shrills, obviously upset. We watch Blake and Gabe move quickly away from the house just as the roof caves in. Sirens bleed in the distance, coming closer as black smoke billows into the night air.
“Oh, hush,” I instruct my bestie. “You know this shit is crazy anyway. How were you supposed to know that some nutjob was going to set the place on fire?”
As we walked up the drive, I searched for the SUV parked down the road and noticed it was gone. It was not the same shiny black vehicle that we were used to seeing. Instead, it was an older model in midnight blue.
I think we were set up by who, I don’t know.
“Z,” I start as Gabe and Blake cross the road to check on us. “Was it the same number?”
“Huh?” she asks, breathing into my shoulder as her body trembles from the entire ordeal.
“The text number from the guy who informs you when there’s a job to attend to. Was it the same number as normal?” I ask cautiously as a firetruck arrives, blocking my view of the inferno.
“Yes, that’s why I kept thinking that we were being paranoid with all the weird stuff going on,” she explains, as Gabe’s gaze aligns with mine, and he smiles sympathetically.
“Then…why the fuck would our boss, Smiler, suddenly turn against us?” I whisper so Gabe can’t hear, watching the firefighters quickly pile out from the truck and get to work.
“I don’t know,” she groans, unable to lift her head from my shoulder because she feels so guilty that we almost died, and she blames herself.
23
“I think I need something stronger,” I bite when Gabe places a glass of water in front of me as I sit at his kitchen table, eager for answers. Once Z was okay, she wiped her tears away, climbed back into her van, and drove home.
“Water will do,” Gabe replies bluntly, and I feel I disappointed him again. They say you don’t know someone until you live with them, and Gabe has found out that I’m a whore with his son and Blake, a snoop, and now he knows that I work for a crime lord or whatever Smiler is.
Blake leans against the kitchen bench, arms folded across his chest, anger in his eyes as he watches me closely. I wait for one of them to speak, but instead, it’s as if they’re expecting me to say something. I’m a little choked, still in shock. I sip the cool water, finding it refreshing, then dip my fingers into the glass and pat my burning cheeks. My skin feels blistered, even though it’s not, my throat is hoarse dry, and my eyes gritty. But the heat in my cheeks is not just the fire; the penetrating stares I’m getting from these two contribute to that.
The front door slams, and a few beats later, Cormac pokes his head into the kitchen to see me sitting there. “Are you alright?” his voice cuts through the intensity, then turns to his father. “Is she hurt?”
“No, she’s fine,” Gabe replies, rubbing his chin with masculine hands that I long to be touched by to comfort me. It’s as if I’m suddenly made of poison and don’t want to come near me. Even at the fire, he touched my shoulder for two seconds before removing it.
“Am I in trouble?” I exclaimed, desperate to air my grievances and strip the plaster off the festering wound.
Gabe frowns at me, and I detect something disturbing behind his eyes. It reminds me of that day when he dropped the man from the window. That look in his eyes is almost haunting, making me feel a little uneasy. “No,” he replies. Why would you think that?”
I cough away a sensation that something is caught in my throat and sip some more water before answering, “Well…because you know…I don’t know.” I give up. Nothing makes sense anymore. I’m a murderer living under the roof of a detective who knows what I’ve done and is protecting me from being arrested and from the men who I’m trying to eliminate from the face of the earth.
“We know that you work there,” Gabe informs me. Obviously, Blake told them.
“So, why are you all staring at me like I’m a bucket of rattlesnake venom,” I sigh irritably. “I almost died. Z almost died. Fuck.”
“We kn-” Cormac’s voice catches. “We know you almost died, Rae. That’s why we’re fucking fuming.” His large hands clench into huge, angry fists, ready to plow into someone’s face. He would, though, he would punch the living shut out of someone who hurt me.
Okay, so the piercing looks I’m getting is not fury toward me, but the assholes who set the house on fire. Good. I’m glad we cleared that up.
“I think we were set up,” I state the obvious, holding back the tears and avoiding their stares. “Z received a text from the usual number, but when we arrived, there was no…blood. It was clean.” The weight of their stares makes my burning cheeks and throat mouth even worse. “So, I figured that one of Smiler’s men must’ve betrayed him, or maybe we annoyed Smiler-”
“Smiler?” Gabe interrupts curiously.
Blake answers for me, “That’s who she calls the boss.”
Gabe’s face crease into a smirk, amused by the chosen name. It’s nice to see such a serious man light up. “Why the name Smiler?”
“Because he leaves a smiley face in the blood,” I reply and catch an exchange between him and Blake, who shrugs nonchalantly.
“Why not?” Blake smiles mischievously at Gabe, and something stirs in my gut. “Every killer must leave his signature.”