Page 249 of Remy

I cringe. “We’ve had our differences but?—”

“We’ve had more than differences. You cost me the only good job I’ve ever had. I’ve been unemployed for months. I lost my fucking apartment because I couldn’t pay rent.”

The brain fog I’ve been in for days doesn’t lessen. I’m devoid of words, unable to come up with something to fill the uncomfortable pause.

“Don’t worry, Liv. I have a feeling I’m about to have a stroke of good fortune.”

There’s something conniving in his tone. The sound of it sends dread slithering down my spine.

“I’m sorry, Hugo, but can we discuss this later? My stomach is unsettled and?—”

“I suggest you remain right where you are.” He steps closer, leaning into my personal space. “We’ve got a lot to discuss about my unlawful dismissal, and something tells me it has a lot to do with the shady characters that seemed right at home at your father’s funeral.”

42

REMY

I chug instant coffee in a quiet corner of the wake room, vainly attempting to dilute my hangover.

What I really want is to get out of here, but Bishop refuses to give me a ride home until my sister approves of the departure, and said sister claims we all need to stay a while longer to show our support.

She even stole my fucking phone like a toddler and said I wouldn’t get it back until I could be trusted not to escape in an Uber.

Matthew enters my line of vision, the crowd parting around him as if aware of his reputation. He catches sight of me and pivots in my direction. A man on a mission I don’t have the faintest desire to be a part of.

He approaches and stands beside me, taking in the room with cautious eyes. “You’ve got a problem.”

I tense, not only at his words but the exuded hostility. “What is it?”

“Some guy looked like he was threatening your woman.”

My pulse increases, the need to act gripping me around the throat. “Where is she?”

“Sitting outside on a park bench, gently rocking back and forth like an escaped mental patient.”

I press a clenched fist to my mouth. I don’t have the strength for this. To stay away when she fucking needs me. “Is she safe?”

Matthew nods. “Lorenzo is keeping an eye on her.”

“And the guy?”

He jerks his chin toward the restrooms where Bishop stands guard at the door, his expression characteristically hostile, the brutal scar across his right cheek not helping his unwelcoming demeanor. “He’s using the facilities.”

I dump my coffee cup on a nearby table.

Ollie might not want me getting involved, but if she doesn’t know about it then no harm, no foul. Right?

“Wait.” Matthew grabs the crook of my arm. “You might need this.” He discreetly slides something metallic into my hand. “It beats firing a gun.”

My pulse increases as I glide my thumb over one of his blades, the green light to violence making me feel somewhat whole again.

“Bishop and I can keep watch at the door.” He jerks his chin toward the bathroom. “Go have some fun.”

I slide the weapon into my pocket and stalk across the room, my anger volatile as I make my way around waitstaff and mourners.

Bishop eyes my approach. “I’ve been informed that the restrooms are about to have a plumbing issue. Nobody will be coming in or out.”

I incline my head and shove into the male toilet, the door swinging shut behind me.

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