Page 81 of Dukes of Peril

“Right, right,” she says, face as ashen as I’ve ever seen it. “Good.”

Sy must sense the moment is spiraling, so in the least pushy voice I’ve ever heard he asks, “We’ll go slow. You control the pace, even if that means you can’t get in.” Gently, he asks, “Are you ready to start?”

“Yes,” she says, even though her head gives a definitive shake.

“You want me in the elevator, or up here?” I ask. We already talked about it. We’re going to let her have the choice on who goes in the elevator with her. She may tell me to fuck off, and it’s not like I don’t deserve it. I’m the one who locked her in there as punishment. We’ve all noticed the wide berth she always takes around that door, as if some part of her is always innately aware of the threat of it. Sighing, I add, “It’s up to you, Little Bird.”

She shifts her weight back and forth, eyes jumping from me to my brother. It won’t bother me if she picks him over me. I can deal with it. I think.

Finally, she meets my gaze, nodding. “I want you with me.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Responsibility.

Knowing it’s cowardly, I ask, “You sure?”

“Yes.” This time she looks like she means it, squaring her shoulders as she straightens, locking stares with Sy. “And you’ll be downstairs, right?”

My brother whips out his phone, thumbing it open to reveal the stopwatch screen. “For as long as you need.”

But even after all is said, nothing gets done.

Lavinia stares at the elevator across the room, body frozen.

Sy clears his throat, shooting me and Remy a look before approaching her. “Hey, it’s okay if you can’t go in. Just try to step as close as you feel–”

“I’m going to do it,” she says, voice both firm and uneven. “I just need a minute.” Closing her eyes, she inhales deep, unmoving.

So we wait, me and Remy sitting against the wall on either side of the elevator while Sy rides it down. Each clang and whir of the car, no matter how distant and muffled, makes her flinch, but she doesn’t open her eyes, brows creased in concentration.

I try not to count the minutes it takes for her to actually cross the line between the living room and the elevator. It’s only seven. We’ve already eaten dinner at the gym and tended to our business for tomorrow’s Fury. The four of us can stand here all night, if we need to.

As we wait, the sun begins dipping lower through the clock face. Remy and I share the occasional skeptical glance before he returns his attention to the sketch pad. Sometimes, my eyes follow, narrowing questioningly at what he’s drawing. It looks like mechanics, all hard lines and confusing circles–nothing like the colorful chaos I’m used to seeing from him.

In between picking at a scab on my knuckles and wondering if we have enough beer stocked for tomorrow night, Lavinia’s eyes suddenly fly open. “Okay.”

Just like that, she’s marching for the door to the elevator, spurring me and Remy into a flurry of motion. He shoots up and slams the button, the door rolling open, but I’m the one to wrench the metal gate aside, revealing the badly lit interior. If I’d had time to prepare, maybe we could have spruced it up. New bulbs. Air freshener. Liquor.Something.

It takes everything in me not to just pick her up and show her I can fix this, but she walks right inside, spine rigid.

Never missing a step, she turns, striding back out.

“Alright, so basically, this is fucking crazy.” Her eyes are wide and already growing wet. “That elevator is a million fucking years old. What if it dies? What if it’s like the clock? Everything around here is ancient and broken!” She flails around, gesturing wildly from me to the elevator. “We’re going to get stuck in there, Nick! We’ll be trapped, and before too long, all the air will get breathed up, and then–”

I grab her shoulders, giving her a soft shake. “This hunk of metal has survived decades of rowdy frat boys, Little Bird. It’s unstoppable.”

She breathes hard, clutching at my shirt sleeves. “Nothing is unstoppable!”

“I am,” I tell her, chasing her gaze when she rolls her eyes. “I’d never let anything hurt you, and you know it. There’s a door,” I point up, into the elevator, indicating the emergency hatch eight feet up. “If we get stuck–and we won’t–I’ll haul your perfect, tight, fuckable ass up there and carry you out on my own back. You got me?”

She holds my stare, some of the wildness in her eyes easing. That’s when Remy swoops in, scooping her into his arms. “Come on, baby. Deep breaths.” She breathes, although I’m not sure how deep it goes. “Can you close your eyes for me?”

She looks wary—but he rubs her back and slowly they flutter shut. “Good girl.” His hand wraps around the column of her neck, and he ducks his head, whispering into her ear. “I want you to think about the two of us on that cliff. Think about how that was the scariest fucking moment of our lives. Think about how certain we were, Vinny. If we stayed, we wouldn’t be here now. But we jumped. We pushed past the fear and took that step off the edge, because we needed to survive, and somehow–some way–that made us bulletproof.” He makes wide strokes with his thumb down to the hollow of her neck and shoulder. “But the truth is, fear wasn’t how we ended up there. I had a weakness and everyone saw it.” Remy’s eyes flit to mine, hardening. “Our enemies have weaknesses too, but we have something the rest of them don’t.”

Lavinia groans. “If you say ‘each other,’ I’m going to barf.”

Remy pauses, mouth twisting. “Well, I was going to say… a massive stockpile of ammunition and the heaviest balls in Forsyth.” Her lips twitch and he grins, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “The point is, our weaknesses will tear us apart faster than our enemies will. It’s why we have to fight it. Get stronger. Better. Harder. The rest of them don’t have the guts for that, Vinny. They’re not like us.” Brushing a kiss against her temple, he adds, “They’re not survivors.”

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