Page 46 of Bleed the Shadows
“Ethan Todd was connected?” Bram asked.
Aloha shook his head. “Not that I can see. In fact, he was raised mostly by a foster parent after his mom OD’ed.”
I sat back in my chair, my gaze glued to the newspaper article on screen. “I don’t get it.”
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Remy suggested. “Maybe it’s not him.”
“Maybe, but if it’s not, it’s one hell of a coincidence,” Aloha said.
“What kind of coincidence?” Poe asked.
“The guy in the newspaper article? His name is Ethan,” Aloha said.
Poe shook his head. “What the fuck…?”
“Different last name,” Aloha continued. “Not Borkowski and not Todd.”
“Who the fuck is this guy?” Remy asked.
Poe stared at Ethan’s “And how the fuck did he end up at Aventine?”
30
REMY
I was still stewingover Aloha’s revelations the next day while I tried to read a book on the sofa, but no matter how many ways I turned the information over in my head, none of it made sense.
If Ethan hadn’t been connected in high school, how had he ended up at Aventine?
According to Aloha, his spider had only found that one picture of Ethan after high school. Then, nothing until he burst onto the scene as Ethan Todd, a right-wing influencer in the early days of the modern manosphere.
And I had to give Maeve credit: she’d been right all along. There was something off about Ethan Todd, something beyond his misogynistic bullshit.
Something he was hiding beyond his alleged crimes.
“Where’s Poe?”
I looked up as Maeve entered the living room and my heart caught in my throat. I never got over how fucking pretty she was, even when she had her long black hair in a ponytail and was wearing nothing fancier than jeans, a sweater, and her combat boots.
My dick stirred and I forced myself to focus on the question, which wasn’t easy because ever since Poe and I had fucked her in the shower I’d been hungry to do it all over again.
“He had to do a work thing,” I said.
Her shoulders slumped. “We were supposed to go grocery shopping.”
It had become a weekly routine for Poe and Maeve to do the grocery shopping on Sundays.
“I can take you,” Bram said.
I just about fell off the sofa. Hell had definitely frozen over and I was pretty sure if I looked out the window I’d see pigs flapping their wings, because Bram never — and I do mean never — offered to help Maeve with anything.
I clocked the surprise on Maeve’s face. I clocked her indecision too. Bram was a dick, but she hadn’t given up on him yet. I wondered if even she realized it.
“No.” Her blue eyes shone like chips of ice. “I’ll go alone.”
“I’ll go with you.” I stood. “I have an errand anyway.”
Bram glared at me, but what could I say? When it came to Maeve, it was every man for himself.
