Page 109 of Painted Scars
Grayson tries to hide the way that lands, but the corner of his mouth tips up. My friend’s been in the dark too long and deserves something good. Katar too. We’ve all earned it.
“You’ve come this far,” I add while our hacker powers off his computer, preparing to leave his safehouse. “Don’t relapse and make me drag your ass back inside.”
“Yes, Grumpy Daddy,” Grayson quips back.
The tip of Katar’s knife dimples his forefinger. “He’s not so grumpy these days.”
I hook an arm over his shoulder, dragging him in for a huddle before he can slip away like a shadow. “You too, Grayson.”
He pushes his chair into the desk and joins us.
I bring him under my other arm. “I know I’ve been a grumpy asshole and don’t say this enough, but you’re both the best atwhat you do, and I wouldn’t want anyone else in the trenches beside me.”
“Sentimental, too,” Grayson mutters, pretending to squirm free.
Katar’s eyes glint with devilry. “I knew there was a heart in there, Tin Man.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” I shove off them and take my leave.
There’s a certain woman waiting at home for me. I snatch the gifts I brought her today, tucking them under my arm.
Katar calls out after me, “Next thing you know, he’ll be sending us roses with a heartfelt note.”
Grayson cracks up.
“I’m leaving before I paint your fingernails.” I flip them the bird and climb the stairs.
A twenty-minute ride takes me to her. I park blocks away, walk the rest of the distance, and enter with the key she’s given me. It might seem like a small gesture, but to me, it’s a vow I won’t break.
I search the darkened house, the illumination from the TV the only source of light. Murder Spice is curled on the sofa, cleaning her Colt, greeting me with her usual scowl.
“She’s upstairs waiting for you,” she warns, turning the butt of her gun in my direction. “Hurt her, August fucking Kelly, and my gun will have something to say about it.”
My jaw ticks under the helmet. Murder Spice knows who I am. That prickle at the back of my neck isn’t her aim, it’s the reminder that she somehow knows more than she lets on.
I remove two coins and flick them at her. “For the Underworld ferry.”
Her scowl dissolves into a smirk that suggests she’s deciding whether to shoot me or pour me a wine. “Not bad, Grumpy. Guess I can let the real you survive the night.”
Coming from Murder Spice, that’s a five-star endorsement.
I swallow hard. “Does she know?”
She drops her gun to her side. “You can detonate that fuse. Don’t take forever to come clean.”
She and I aren’t that different. We’re both the kind of people who keep secrets until they hurt the most. And I’ll find out hers, and what Katar has kept from me.
I’m light and silent on my feet as I ascend the stairs to Glitter Bomb’s room. She’s curled on her bed in a fetal position, one pillow between her legs, another hugged to her chest. A box of chocolates rests on her nightstand, lid off, tissue paper astray, pieces missing.
Good. She got them. I timed the delivery to hit the first day of her period that she noted in red circles on her calendar. My sister used to go feral for chocolate at that time of the month. Every orange girl deserves treats too. Phase one ofOperation Periodis complete.
Josh is whining and licking her face. She lifts her hand to pet him and lifts her head at my entry.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I tried to read Barry’s scientific studies but didn’t get the article finished. I was in too much pain and distracted.” She mumbles her apology like it’s a sin I’m here to punish and then bursts into tears.
Her pain cuts deep as I sit beside her and swipe away her tears with my thumb. “The Romans can wait. You mean more to me than a headline.”
She smiles, the tears sliding but running out of steam.
