Page 258 of Deceit

I loosen my hold a little and Alexander startles me, jerking forward like he’s going to jump out of the chair and beeline straight for me.

“Bitch!” he shouts. “I have a whole life planned out for us. I fucking told you that I loved you!”

“So?” my counter is weak but loud as he screws his face like I’m insane.

I am. I work with a bunch of psychotic people, but they were all right; we’re in this together. They’d never leave me behind even though I don’t deserve it.

But I’m nothing compared to him. He’s evil that hides behind a suit and company. Who attempted and almost succeeded in annihilating three lives in one shot.

“So?” he repeats sardonically. “How do you think you’re gonna get away with this? People will look for me. You want your boys to beat my ass—fine!” He sucks in a breath, struggling to keep calm and hide that he’s not in so much pain. “But they’re gonna look at you, sweetheart.”

“Why me? I’m dead.”

He scowls. “Your secret is out. My brother knows.”

“Ah, yes, the congressman dealing with a terrorist.”

“You know nothing!”

“Don’t need to,” I reply flatly. “I know all I need to know.”

Alexander’s mouth sets in a fine line. “This…won’t work out for you…the way you think it will.”

I glance down at my squad, all staring straight ahead at him with pure venom in their eyes. “Didn’t you guys tell him?”

They all glance over at me but remain silent. They didn’t say shit.

“Tell me what?” Alexander counters confidently. “That you roll around with a gang?”

“Geezus Christ.” I hear Marty utter.

“Why does everyone think we’re a gang?” Mills complains. “We don’t wear matching jackets and shit with a logo.”

“Maybe we should,” Blue chimes in. “We can have cool nicknames and shit.”

“I call Mighty Mills.”

“You’re so fucking dumb,” Kyson snarks. “What are you mighty in?”

Mills crosses his arms along his chest and scoffs. “My dick for one. Two, my charm. Three, I keep on trying to tell you guys that I’m pretty fuckin’ baller, but y’all keep acting like I’m not one of the smartest guys here.”

“You’re not dumb,” Blue says. “Just special.”

“I’mnoteat-the-paste kinda special.”

“Nah, you’re the kind that sniffed white-out to get high,” Marty surmises.

“That wasonetime,” Mills huffs. “And I was doing an experiment.”

Marty scoffs. “To get high.”

“How about you all shut the fuck up and leave,” Alexander storms. “Let me talk to my fiancé.”

Mills plucks my left hand and lifts it in the air. “Damn, I don’t see a ring, do you guys?”

“I don’t remember him asking for our permission either,” Marty adds. “The answer isno.”

Alexander’s face softens, and he gives me a lop-sided grin, changing his whole deposition. “Emmy…c’mon. We were gonna talk about this. I’m going to a therapist and everything for you.”

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