Page 50 of Crown of Smoke

"Records don't tell the whole story. The Ifrinns weren’t saints, but they looked after their people.”

Lucy's blue eyes narrow, and I realize I’m saying too much. "How would you know? You're investigating the Keans."

“I’m surprised you don’t see this. You’re a writer who sorts through people’s lives, narrowing them down to caricatures. These were people. Real people with families who loved them."

"Who also broke the law," Lucy counters. "Just like the Keans do now."

My jaw clenches. She's right, but hearing her compare my family to those murderers makes my blood boil.

She tilts her head. “Did you know them, the Ifrinns?”

I need to change the subject before I say something I'll regret. “I don’t have to know them to know how they died was a heinous way to go. To know that despite what the press says, there were people who cared for them.”

I can still smell the smoke and hear the screams. My brothers and I had snuck down to the basement to play video games and smoke a little weed while everyone slept. We razzed Ash about his girlfriend sleeping in his bed and what our parents would do if they found out. That’s when he told us he planned to marry her.

And then all hell broke loose. We got out of the house, only to see it light up like a fucking torch. We headed back in to save our family, but we didn’t make it far. I felt like my skin was melting, it was so hot. Blaise and I had to hold onto Ash to keep him from running into the blaze to save his girl. Phoenix knew the fire couldn’t be an accident, and he took charge, getting us out and hidden. We stayed hidden for ten years, planning, plotting for our return and our vengeance.

Lucy studies me, and I hope to hell she can’t see the truth in my eyes. Finally, she says, “Well, if you can find out who was in the house and survived, maybe you can learn more about what happened.”

If she only knew she was sitting across from one of those survivors right now. But I can't tell her. Not yet. Not when she sees the Ifrinns as just another crime family who got what was coming to them.

Plus, I don’t know anything. I survived but don’t know who betrayed my father. For months I've been hanging around Kean's crew, getting my face bloodied in their fights, drinking their whiskey, listening to their bullshit. And what do I have to show for it? Not much.

Except for Marshall. Was he in on the betrayal, or did he just switch sides when he saw my family was out? Why the fuck doesn’t Phoenix, Ash, or Blaise know about any of this? It’s my job to mingle around the Keans’ men, but they have their own assignments. Why don’t they know more? If more people survived, where did they go? Did the Keans hunt them down one by one? Or did they scatter to the wind, too afraid to ever look back? Were any involved in the betrayal?

Lucy's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Right after the fire, three of Hampton Kean's other rivals also disappeared.”

“Ifrinns weren’t rivals. The Keans and the Ifrinns were friends at one time.”

She nods. “I wonder why Hampton turned on them? The Ifrinn and rival territories were absorbed into Kean holdings within weeks."

I grunt in acknowledgment. The Keans moved fast, striking while Boston's underworld was still reeling from the Ifrinn massacre.

"Maybe we should take a break." God knows I need one.

"There's something bigger here. These cover-ups, the missing evidence…" Her eyes narrow at me. "Why aren't you more concerned about corrupt officers? Shouldn't that bother you as a cop?"

Every time she calls me officer, it gets harder to maintain the charade. I want to tell her everything. Who I really am, why I'm here.

"Lucy." I grasp her shoulders, needing her to understand without revealing too much. "Some of these people you're looking into, they're dangerous. More dangerous than street thugs or fighters. They can make problems vanish without throwing a single punch."

She studies my face, doubt creeping back into her expression. She doesn’t believe me. "You're hiding something from me."

"I'm trying to protect you." It's the most honest thing I can say to her right now.

"By lying to me?"

The accusation stings because she's right. I've never felt this conflicted about deception before. Usually, lies roll off my tongue easily. They're necessary tools in my world. But with Lucy, each one feels like a betrayal.

I cup her face, torn between pushing her away for her safety and pulling her closer because I can't stand the thought of letting her go. "There are some things you're better off not knowing. Please trust me on this."

"You're being weird about this," she says, crossing her arms. "If you're really a cop, why can't you just tell me what, specifically, you’re investigating? Is it the Keans? Police corruption?"

I move closer, hoping to distract her with proximity like I have before.

But Lucy backs away. "Don't. Don't try to charm your way out of answering my questions this time."

The distance between us feels like miles. My hands itch to pull her close, to kiss away that suspicious furrow between her brows. To make the world melt away by losing myself in her body.

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