Page 16 of Pretty When She Breaks
The doubt nagged at my mind, and I couldn’t shake it. Part of me wondered if I had imagined someone else in thatcoffin. If Jule had been miserable enough to jump off the rooftop. But, as always, I pushed it away.
Fuck that. I couldn’t give up on him.
He’d protected me for years. My pain was a small price to pay for the chance of getting him back.
I repeated that to myself as my mantra as I petted Muppet’s soft fur.
SEVEN
OCEAN
Finally, it was time. I went to get changed, Kaos shuffling after me, his anxiety flaring as I did up my buttons and added cuff links to the tuxedo we’d purchased for tonight.
He was quiet as he adjusted the camera in the button, checking the wires that led to the small battery pack hidden in my collar.
“There. I’m a proper penguin now,” I said, holding my arms wide. Kaos didn’t smile, even when I flapped my arms.
His hands were shaking as he applied the final bug—a listening device disguised as a plug earring. It didn’t have a long battery life, but I’d brought a pack of spares to swap out if needed.
I nudged him and went to leave the room, but his skinny arm shot out, gripping mine like a vise. Panic was rising through the bond, and I rested my hand on his forearm.
“Hey. It’s gonna be fine,” I said.
I’d been slowly infiltrating the Fairchild’s empire for ages now, running weapons and drugs for Jag, one of Thaddeus’sgoons. Last week, though, I’d finally got my chance to level up. I’d been a runner, and some of the others had been planning to cut and run with the latest shipment. They’d offered me a wad of cash to play along, but I’d brought it straight to Jag and told him.
They had been dealt with, and I’d been invited up to the Duchess Suite. Jag said I’d proven he could trust me with special shipments. Whatever that meant. Hopefully something we could use to bury all of them.
“Don’t go,” Kaos said, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear him. He was looking at me with his large, dark eyes, and I felt my heart squeeze as I saw how haunted they looked. It was a reminder of our failure. He was the youngest of us, which meant we were supposed to protect him.
Instead, we’d driven him away, and left him vunerable to being kidnapped and trafficked.
“We’re not going to fail you again,” I told him. “It’s gonna be worth it, Kaos. To make those criminals pay.”
“It’s that…” His eyes searched mine. “You’ll see what I was. In the fight pit.”
“Kaos,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I know you don’t want us to see that side of you. But when you were like that? You were surviving. There’s no shame in that.”
He just stared at me. I slowly pried his fingers off my arm. He looked so lost, and it made my resolve harden.They’ddone this to Kaos. Made him a ghost of a person.
We were doing the right thing. We would restore his faith in us, make things right again. Show him we could protect him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow. Who else is gonna keep you out of trouble, huh?”
He didn’t say anything else, but his large eyes didn’t leave mine as I stepped out of the room.
Finch: You inside?
I tucked my phone back into my pocket, hoping he could feel my eye roll through the bond. It had been five minutes since he’d dropped me off.
“Relax, buddy,” I said, knowing my microphone would pick up my voice. “Same thing, different place. Chill, don’t draw attention, take the job.”
I straightened my tie, striding past the large ornate fountain that marked the entrance to the Crimson Palace Resort and Casino, and up the steps, dodging past the tourists that were lining up for selfies on the iconic brass thrones.
The noise levels rose as I crossed the marble floors of the circular lobby, sparing a glance at the cathedralesque mural spanning the domed ceiling. The garden-side restaurant was busy, despite the late hour, and the slot machines were visible to my left, with their bright lights and noises seeking to hook people in. Right next to it was the Dagger and Petal, a nightclub that had another line as partiers waited for the doors to open.
I walked leisurely into the next room, only to be stopped in my tracks as I saw the large banner that was spread across the ceiling. On it, the Crimson Duchess lounged in a pastel bathtub, the water scattered with rose petals. She gazed at the camera with sultry blue eyes, her lips parted in an expression that made my mouth go dry.
Holy angels above, they shouldn’t go hanging pictures like that in public places. Sure, her parts were covered—by strips of soaking wet, white fabric.
