Page 64 of Necessary Cruelty

“Tell me what happened in the Gulch.”

“I knew that would get your attention.” She snaps the visor shut. “Someday, you’re going to have to explain to me why you like messing with Zaya Milbourne so much.”

My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “Except, I don’t.”

A calculating look enters her gaze. “If you won’t be sweet to me, then I won’t tell you anything.”

Sophia will see how easy it is to talk when I have both hands wrapped around her throat. I decide to change tactics, because she responds to threats by getting pouty. Flattery will get you everywhere with her.

“You looked gorgeous at the Founder’s Ball, by the way. Was that a new dress?” I ask through grinding teeth.

“Oh my God, you noticed! It was an Alaïa that I got at the Neiman’s in Newport Beach. I had to buy three different dresses because you were being so ridiculous and wouldn’t just tell me what color you’d be wearing so we could match.”

Sophia playfully slaps my arm again, and I resist the urge to grab her wrist and snap it in half.

“Well, you looked great.” I wait for the insincere compliment to widen her smile. Her general air of smugness is something I hate at the best of times, but sometimes you just do what you have to do. “Now tell me what happened in the Gulch.”

Taking a deep breath, like a performer about to reveal their greatest trick, Sophia leans closer. “I heard that like at least a dozen of the Gulch’s usual suspects got scooped up by the taskforce. The cops got them all on RICO charges.”

I glance at her, confused. “On what?”

“RICO.” At my still blank look, she just shakes her head. “They use it to take down big mafia guys and drug kingpins. If someone is part of a criminal organization, like a gang, then you can charge everyone with the same thing even if they weren’t directly involved. One guy gets caught selling drugs, and everyone can go down.”

I forget that her father is the Chief of Police. The dinner table small talk at their house probably gets real interesting. Maybe it’s because Sophia doesn’t seem like a real person to me, I find it difficult to remember that she is slightly more than the girl who will give me a blowjob whenever convenient. But let’s be honest, she acts like that’s all she wants to be.

But I don’t actually care about any of this true crime shit.

“What does that have to do with Zaya?”

“Well, her brother is a little budding hoodlum, right? From what I heard, he got picked up with a bunch of other people. I have no idea what he actually did, but right now he is facing the same charges. Serious ones.”

“Zion got arrested?”

“That’s what I just said.” She pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It was bound to happen eventually. Trash is as trash does.”

It doesn’t sit quite right with me that she calls him that, although I’m not sure why I care. If Zion is trash, then by extension the rest of his family is, too. Trash is one of the nicer words people use when talking about the poor souls dying slow deaths in the Gulch. Usually it doesn’t bother me, but for some reason today is different.

“Not everyone gets to be born with a silver spoon shoved up their ass.”

Her laugh is derisive. “You’re one to talk. Vin Cortland has never wanted for anything a single day in his life. It’s one of your best qualities.”

The whole Cortland empire is about to go up in flames. Perversely, I want to tell her that I’m a year from being broke just to see how she might react. She would probably dive out of the car while it was still moving to get away as fast as possible.

“So your dad says Zion is pretty screwed?” I ask instead.

“Not in so many words, I guess.” She has her phone out and starts texting, her interest in this topic already waning. “But unless the Milbournes have a fairy godmother I don’t know about, I’d say yes.”

Someone with a functional soul would feel sympathy for the guy rotting in a jail cell and his desperate family, but all I can think about is how to take advantage of the situation. I’m not the one who put him there, but ignoring this would be colossally stupid. Her family is the only leverage that has ever worked on Zaya, and I’m not about to kick a gift horse in the teeth.

I might not be a fairy godmother, but Zaya is about to find out I’m the only one who can wave a magic wand over the steaming shitpile of her life.

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