“We grew up in the Row.” Cassius meets my eyes. “I didn’t lie about that. We grew up and got out of some really shit situations.”
“Hannah,” Garrett winces as if only saying her name causes him physical pain. “She was good. Too good for me, and her dad let everyone know it.”
“Got it.” Rowan interrupts. “According to this article, Hannah got on the city bus and was later found on the front porch of a house, raped and murdered,” she fills us all in, her fingers still typing a mile a minute.
“His house,” Garrett says, gesturing to Cassius.
“They arrested a couple teens for it, but no charges were ever made,” Rowan says from the screen.
“Us,” Cassius says.
“You’re Christopher Cruz and Gavin Sharp?” Rowan asks.
The men nod. “Our names were everywhere.” Garrett explains, “It took a lot of time and a lot of money for us to fabricate new identities, because we couldn’t just change our names. We needed foolproof backgrounds. Apparently, it worked.”
“Are we forgetting the fact that she’s dead?” Rowan asks. “I am staring at her obituary. Rubes, I’m sending it to your phone now.”
“So, it was a closed casket?” I ask, repeating what they said earlier, while I wait for the obituary to come through. “But Cassius, why would she want you dead? None of this makes sense.”
“She was at the club,” Garrett answers. “She’s alive.” He leans back in his stool, color coming back into his cheeks. His bright eyes close briefly before opening again. His gaze flits between his best friend, the assassin, and the girl on my phone. He stands abruptly, knocking the stool over.
Cassius moves to the other side of the island.
“She,” Garrett points at me and then Cassius, his hand shaking, the vein in his forehead prominent. “She’s right, what did you do? Why the fuck does Hannah want you dead?” He picks the bottle of tequila up off the counter and throws it on the floor next to Cassius. Glass skitters across the floor and what was left of the tequila pools at Cassius’ feet.
“G.” Cassius’ shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, I never wanted it to go that far. I never, I never thought they would follow through.”
“Who would follow through? With what?” Garrett raises his voice, stepping into Cassius’ personal space. He’s not as big as Cassius, but the fear and anger radiating off him makes him a threat. Cassius shrinks back as regret takes over his features.
“It’s all my fault.” Cassius takes a step back from Garrett, broken glass crunching beneath his feet, and grips the back of his neck with his hand. “I hustled the wrong people.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You were so wrapped up in Hannah, and I was bored, man.” Cassius winces at his own admission, shrinking smaller with every word. “I played cards with some people, men in suits. I don’t fucking know who they were, but I knew they were important. Their suits, G, they cost more than anything we owned.”
Garrett doesn’t move. His fists clench at his sides and the vein in his neck throbs, but his feet remain planted.
“The guy Neil that was hanging around my mom at the time, you remember him? He told me where I could find their game. So, I went. And I played. I lost the first few rounds, on purpose,of course. And then I won, and I kept fucking winning. I could taste it, G. Freedom. For both of us.”
“What the actual fuck,” Garrett spits. “What does this have to do with Hannah?”
“The next day, they must have put two and two together and went after Neil. Neil gave me up. Told them I was a cheat. They pounded down the fucking door, held a fucking gun to my head, and told me I had twenty-four hours to give the money back, or they’d kill my girl. I didn’t have a girl, so it didn’t matter to me.”
Cassius pauses. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “When we found Hannah, I realized that Neil must have thought she was mine because the two of us hung at the house a lot while we waited for you to get out of school. He must have thought…” He pinches his eyes closed and takes a deep breath. “He must have told them about Hannah. It’s the only thing I can think of.” He looks at Garrett. “I’m so sorry G.”
“You piece of fucking shit.” Garrett shoves Cassius, “How could you keep this from me?”
“I thought you would blame me, and you should. I never should have played with them in the first place.”
Garrett steps back, turning away from Cassius. It happens in a flash, one second, he’s walking away and the next the two are on the ground, Garrett with the upper hand but only because Cassius is still. He takes the beating as his penance, as if living with the knowledge has not been enough.
“I should fucking kill you myself!” Garrett is purple with rage; his veins threaten to burst with every hit he throws at Cassius. “You were supposed to be my best friend.”
“I am,” Cassius gurgles, blood sputtering from lips. “I didn’t know G, I swear.”
“Rubes, stop them. I need facts,” Rowan yells from her screen.
I pull a blade from my waistband and touch the cold steel to Garrett’s throat.