Page 84 of Volatile Vice

He presses his lips together, and I can see the tension in his face.

I’m on to something, and he knows it.

I point at him sharply. “Fuck it all. Itwasyou.”

“Vincent, I am never one tonotown up to what he has done,” he says. “And for once, it was not me.”

“Then who?” I pace around him. “Who the hell would want to get rid of Brick Latham? And who would do it at the Bellamy Ranch?”

“Whoever it was made sure that Raven and her parents were gone.” He takes a slow breath in and furrows his brow at me. “I’m surprised at you, Vincent. Think about it. Think about who might want to get rid of Latham, but who’d also want to keep the Bellamys safe.”

He’s right. My grandfather doesn’t give a damn if the Bellamys are safe or not. He was going to let Miles McAllister shoot Falcon in cold blood, and he didn’t blink when he told me to kill Raven.

So whoisinterested in keeping the Bellamys safe?

And who might see Brick Latham as a threat?

I mull it over for a few minutes. Raven. My grandfather. Brick Latham. Falcon and Savannah.

My parents.

Raven’s parents.

Then a lightbulb.

The answer comes to me…and it’s not pretty.

27

RAVEN

“Raven,” Jared says to me, “we should get out of here.”

“No,” I say succinctly.

He lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. “But he said he doesn’t want you here.”

I swat it away. “He’s saying it because he wants to keep me safe, Jared.”

“Yes, and so do I. I’m being paid very well to keep you safe. And frankly, Vinnie Gallo was right. The farther away from him you are, the safer you are.”

I shake my head. “He needs me, Jared.”

“He needs yousafe.” He taps a fist against his chest. “I can keep you safe, but you’re making my job a lot more difficult than it needs to be.”

I let out a humorless chuckle. “You have to earn your keep, don’t you?” I sit down in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area.

Jared reluctantly sits next to me. “They’re probably going to be with their mother as long as they can,” he says.

I don’t answer. Instead, my gaze is drawn to an older man walking through the waiting area and checking in with reception.

Already I know who that man is.

Mario Bianchi. Vinnie’s grandfather. The resemblance between them is uncanny. I feel like I’m looking at Vinnie in fifty years.

Same facial features, same muscular build, although Mr. Bianchi is a few inches shorter. Same thick hair, only his is silver.

Same olive complexion.

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