Page 9 of Bitter Arrangement

“Should we light it on fire first?”

“Make it explodethendrown it. A fitting end.”

“Just imagine how Brenden would feel.”

I glare at her. “Don’t ruin the fantasy by bringing up my brother.”

“Just saying.” She grins back sweetly. “He’d be pretty broken up if his little sister got killed in a car-drowning explosion.”

“Not like he’s here anyway. My big brother’s off on another one of his heists.” I throw back my second beer and gesture for another, even though I probably shouldn’t. Two Guinnesses and I’m fine. But three sometimes ends with trouble.

Four and I’ll find myself in jail.

“How’s that going anyway?” Cass asks, waving for her own drink refill.

“Who knows? He doesn’t communicate dick with me when he’s gone. That asshole shows up out of the blue, teaches me all the new tricks he learned out on his job, and then disappears again for weeks at a time.”

I love my older brother, and everything I know about stealing, pickpocketing, and general thievery comes from him, but he’s not the most reliable sibling in the world.

“Want me to ask around?” she offers, eyebrows raised. “I bet my brother knows something.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m getting married pretty soon. Not even the great Brenden McGrath would dare skip my wedding and risk my wrath.”

“Very good point,” she says with a laugh, and we clink our glasses together.

I can tell she wants to ask me more about the wedding. But the truth is, I loathe talking about it. There’s nothing I can do, no changes I can make, no words I can speak or actions I can take. All I have is waiting until the day I walk down the aisle to pledge myself to a man with a really good voice, an incredible smell, an obsessively neat house, and a high-tech security system.

Instead of going into all that, I quickly ask her about some guy she’s been seeing and swerve the conversation away.

Cass goes on for a few minutes, really warming up to the subject, until she glances over my shoulder and instantly stops talking. Her expression falls, and she leans away from me like I’ve suddenly started vomiting blood all over the place.

“Riles, your dad,” she warns.

I swivel around and spot my old man marching through the crowd with an all-too-familiar black duffel bag clutched in his white-knuckled hands.

“Well, hello there, father of mine,” I say cheerily.

He gives me a hard glare and slams the bag down onto the bar next to me. Without a word, he unzips it and tears it open, showing off a whole bunch of lovely thieving tools: pry bar, lock picks, bump key, glass and bolt cutters, wire splicer, flashlight, gloves, and other worthwhile sundries.

Cass looks horrified. I’m mostly just annoyed.

“I told you to stop,” Dad says with a hard stare.

I’m very aware of the people near us watching carefully. Lucky for me, though, most of them are in the McGrath organization in one way or another, so this probably isn’t the first time they’ve seen me get dressed down in public.

“I know you did, but?—”

“No more excuses,” he growls, leaning in close. “You’re getting married to an important man in a few weeks. No more childish games. No more playacting like you’re some street thief like your brother. You’re my goddamn daughter. You went to private school. You won gymnastics competitions. You’re better than this.”

I open my mouth to snap out some sharp retort, but all my thoughts suddenly drain away under the pressure of his disapproval. His jaw works, and he looks truly disgusted in a way that makes my entire body itch. If this were anyone else, I’d sit up tall, insult them to their face, make jokey comments, do anything to deflect and act like I don’t give a shit what they think about me, except I can never keep it up with him. Not with my old man.

The only person in the world who seems determined to think I’m about as useful as gutter slime.

“I’ll get rid of it,” I say, shoulders slumping.

“No, Riley, I will get rid of it, because I don’t trust you worth a damn to do it yourself. Stop fucking up. Get yourself together, girl. You’re embarrassing me.” He zips the duffel shut and slings it over his shoulder before looking at Cass. “And you should be at school.”

“Good to see you again, Mr. McGrath,” Cass says quietly, looking away.

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