Page 49 of When Sinners Rise
She’s silent for a while, just drinking and looking at me.
Until.
“What’s that on your face?” I frown again, not knowing what she means. “The bruising, Shaw?”
“Abel.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “What does it matter? Just is. Got put in my place about something. The usual bullshit.”
“He scratched you, too, huh?”
My brow arches as I remember the shred of Miri’s nails. “Something like that.”
“He can be a real asshole sometimes. Sometimes I think …” She trails off and shakes her head. “I don’t know. He’s difficult, though, right? Can’t wrap my head around the way hismind thinks some days. He’s like some high school bully one day, and then sweet as fuck another. Well, not sweet, but Abel’s version of it.”
“Yeah. He sure likes to keep us on a one-way track.”
“His track, though. Screw everyone else’s opinion.” There is that.
I heave in a breath and set the glass on the table between us. This needs to be done before I say something I shouldn’t, which is coming if I keep drinking with her. Whatever we are to each other, she’s right – we’re twins, and, like it or not, there's that thing between us that gives us the ability to see through the crap. Last thing she needs is to know what’s going on in my head about Miri and this whole damn scenario. If she doesn’t know, she can’t tell anyone when hassled for information.
“You’re going?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I stand and turn for the door. “Hey, you know where Naja went to?”
She sneers and lifts herself from her chair, near gliding around the table to get to me. “She went to a guy called Reece Carlise. He took over one of Chance’s places near Nashville, the Grillhouse, I think.” Yeah, I know it. “Abel sold the place to him. Not that it was ours to sell.”
“Kinda was after a Cortez – you – killed him. That’s how this works. You take a life in this sort of world; you get the assets.”
“Hmm. I suppose. I can tell you now, though, the profit from those assets is not in my accounts.” No. It’ll be firmly under Abel’s control, with Knox constantly running the numbers. That’s how it works for all of us. Nothing is ours – it's his. His decisions. His control. His fucking orders. Just once, I’d love to beat him at that, and win. “Why do you want to know?”
“No reason. Just wondered. I’m ready for all this Reed bullshit to be done and over.”
“Well,” she opens the door for us and leads us back out into the hall towards the private elevator. “It just about is now you’ve brought the runaway back. And you’re out of here soon. The bright lights of Manhattan are calling your name. You make sure you keep a room open for me and Kai.”
The elevator slides open, and I step inside. “Not happening. You can pay for your own shit.”
She flips a finger up at me as it closes and walks off. “Dick.”
Yeah.
The stale, warm air of the underground parking lot hits me the second the doors open. I walk out into it and look left and right. It’s quiet down here – nothing but concrete, cars and a dull light shining in the corner. I cut through some of them until I’m back up on the main street and walking again. I’m as directionless as I was before I got here, but eventually, I get to my car and slide inside. Whole damn feeling pisses me off. It’s like I’m either wandering without purpose permanently or being told the exact direction I’m supposed to go in and screw my thoughts on that.
I wish the hostility wasn’t building in me, but it is. Every fucking thing I do is ordered – forced. I’m about done with that kinda crap. I can't think through it anymore. I look out through the windshield, playing with what my future is ever gonna be if this continues. None of it fills me with anything but more scowls and hostility.
Might be time for me to make some goddamn decisions of my own.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MIRI
It’s quiet.
Finally, it’s quiet.
I don’t know what time it is, or if it’s been more than a night, but the small reprieve from the sounds of torture is a win. I need to take anything I can as a sign of hope.
