Page 68 of The Devil We Know

I pull my phone out and send more messages to Lilith, hoping maybe she can be bothered to reply to one. Of course, they’re all delivered with no acknowledgment that I’ve asked anything, so I sit there in the passenger seat of the van, fuming.

We’re almost to the outskirts of the city when I pull up Carolina’s name and send her a message asking who all is about.

She answers almost immediately, listing off a laundry list of names, and I’m tickled to find one of them is Lilith.

It’s about time my fucking mother gave us some answers.

The three other women are all silent, and I look back over my shoulder to see Jessica’s still lying in the back of the van in the fetal position.

I sigh, and then, having been in that same position more times than I can count, I unbuckle my seatbelt and slowly make my way back there.

I kneel by her head, leaning over so I can glance at her face as I ask, “Are you all right?”

She doesn’t look at me. She just remains lying there with her eyes squeezed shut as she shakes her head slightly.

I sigh, then inch my way around her until I can stretch out beside her. She tucks her knees up tighter into her body, and I’m able to move closer. I reach out and take both of her hands in mine and close the distance between us so it’s close but still comfortable.

She doesn’t attempt to pull away, and she also doesn’t look at me or say anything, so after a few moments, I say, “I know exactly how it feels.”

“How what feels?”

“To feel like you might die at the loss of someone else.”

A sobbing laugh falls from her lips, and then she says bitterly, “I never wanted any of this.”

She’s still not looking at me, but I nod anyway and then say, “Me neither. I had every intention of killing the fucker, but look at me now.”

Her eyes open, and she frowns at me. “You were going to kill him?”

I chuckle softly and then reply, “That was my job. Obviously, I fucking failed miserably.”

She laughs for a second and then stops abruptly, as if she’s afraid she was going to offend me, so I add, “Oh, it’s funny. It wasn’t funny at the time, but you know, hindsight is a fucking laugh and a half.”

Jessica nods and then sighs. “Yeah, sometimes I’d like to go back and bash Bobby’s head in again. And there was absolutely nothing funny about that at the time.”

“See?” I chirp. “You spend enough time in this life, and you can find humor in anything.”

“But at one point, you thought Darius was dead?” she asks quietly.

“Oh, yeah,” I respond firmly. “Thought someone shot him dead almost right in front of me.”

“That must have been terrible,” she whispers sadly.

I shrug, bobbing my head around nonchalantly as I reply, “Well, it wasn’t great. And over time, I learned to trust the process more.”

She frowns and asks, “The process?”

“The process of kill or be killed,” I explain. “It doesn’t always come down to being the most powerful, smartest, or richest. Most of the time, it comes down to being willing to make the necessary sacrifices to come out on top. We’ve basically dedicated our lives to ensuring the future safety and well-being of those at risk. But in some circles, they still call us criminals.”

Jessica snorts and rolls her eyes as she mutters, “And those are usually the fuckers you gotta watch out for.”

“That’s true. It’s greed and the thirst for power that fuels most of the evil in the world. And some of the most ruthless criminal organizations in the world are considered to be aboveboard, legitimate businesses.”

We fall into silence, watching each other as the van begins its stop-and-go pursuit through the city. Jessica sighs again, and then she asks, “How do we know what to do next?”

“I’m not entirely sure right now, but just as soon as we get back, I’m going to ask the person who probably knows.”

We fall back into a comfortable silence, and I continue to hold her hands and just breathe the same air as her, until, finally, we pull to a stop. By the time they’re opening the back doors, I’ve helped her sit up and adjust herself, wiping the drying tears from her face. I lean in and whisper, “He’s okay, Jess. Just believe that.”

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