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Leighton burst into laughter. “Is that… is that your real name, Mags?” he wheezed. “How did we not know this?”

“Because of this reaction right here, L,” she hissed. “You gonna keep laughing, or am I breaking your arm for giving me shit?” She leaned forward, pressing her knee harder into his back.

“Oh, come on now, Gatlin Magazine!” Leighton said before wincing in pain as Mags increased the pressure on his arm. “Alright,alright!Fuck, Mags!”

“Let him up girl. These boys need tending, and it ain’t their fault I panicked with naming ya.” Harrison chuckled. “Take ‘em upstairs and see to their injuries. I’m going to make a few calls about… the body. See if we can’t get it out of my parking lotand on ice for now.” he paused a moment before narrowing his eyes at me. “As soon as you boys are patched up, you’ll need to sort it out on your own, mind.”

“Understood,” I replied with a terse nod.

Mags warily stood from where she had Leighton pinned, watching him for any sign of, I could only guess at what. Leighton clambered to his feet, rubbing the arm she'd twisted before grabbing Joey by the shoulder and pushing him toward the back stairs that led to the apartment above the bar.

“Just in case you boys forgot. This here is neutral ground.” Harrison spoke just as Joey and Leighton disappeared into the back. “Leaving your friend in my parking lot would put me in a bad spot, one you boys don’t want me to be put in. Now, I like you boys, but youwillowe me for this when all is said and done.”

“Pops,” Mags started. “I thought you said we don’t take favors.”

Harrison leaned back against the liquor shelf, one arm across his chest as he stroked his beard with the other hand. “Youdon't take favors, girly. But I smell war coming, and I'm willing to hedge my bets to keep us safe.” He motioned toward Mags and me, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Go on, now. Patch them up while I tend to this, call me if there's anything you need help with.”

Chapter Three

Joey

My mind was a riot of emotions, so loud they drowned everything else out. I was in a haze as Mags sat me in a high-backed wooden chair at her and Harrison’s kitchen table. Withdrawn so deep within myself that neither the sting of antiseptic nor the bite of the sewing needle that pulled my wounds closed earned so much as a hiss from me. I was entirely on autopilot by the time I climbed under the shower spray, retreating deeper and deeper into myself as blood and grime washed down the drain.

“I’m going home,” I mumbled, barely audible, as Az collapsed onto the couch beside me. “I have to figure out how to tell my folks.”

“We’ll go with you. You don’t have to do this alone, Joey.” Az replied softly.

I didn’t bother with a response. I didn’t have it in me. Travel plans were made around me, Az and Leighton occasionally asking for input I couldn’t find the energy to give. I was vaguely aware of Harrison arriving at some point to speak with Az, their voices a low murmur against the background of my mind. It felt like I had only blinked, and then I was standingin the living room of the home we’d bought our parents after our first big score.

“Hey, Little Brother.” Rich’s voice felt like a slap to the face, and I turned so sharply it nearly threw me off balance. My heart sank back into my stomach when Az, not my brother, entered my view. “You need to eat something, even if you don’t feel like it.” He said as he held out a sandwich for me.

I took it, biting into it before baring my teeth in a grimace meant to be a smile. My movements felt mechanical; each forced bite felt like chewing cardboard. Not even Az’s worried expression could break through the heaviness that had settled inside me, weighing me down and making everything feel pointless.

Time seemed to pass in another series of blinks. I closed my eyes to Az and opened them to my mother, pulling me against her as she sobbed. Another blink, my father was in the recliner across from where I sat on the couch; his head hung low as he stared at the floor. Yet another, my parents sat on either side of me while they addressed their pastor.

“Hey bro,” Leighton said, “I brought your suit. Your mom said you need to change. It’s almost time.”

Another blink, and I was staring at a closed, dark mahogany casket, a pall with a death’s head moth laid across it. I could almost reach out and brush my fingers across the casket pedestal. Tilting my head, I studied it in confusion before turning to speak to Rich.

“Wh–” The whispered word never fully left my mouth as pain crashed over me. My hands clenched into fists, my nails biting into the skin as awareness sank in for the first time in days.

A ragged breath left me, my whole body shuddering with it, before I clawed my way back to the numbness. To the place where none of this was real, and I’d eventually wake to find itwas all a horrible nightmare. The pastor’s words helped lull me back to that place, the soft tenor of his voice a lullaby in a sea of grief and anger. Not even the cold bite of late winter air could snap me back from that place as we strolled from the funeral home.

It wasn’t until the car had fully stopped andsheemerged that I felt anything. My eyes narrowed on her then, in her sleek black dress, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles while Craig stood at her side. A quick once over of Craig was enough to tell me that his smart suit hid extensive injuries, and yet, the fuckingprincesswas wholly untouched.

“What is it going to take for you four to screw your heads back on straight?! Is one of us going to have to fucking die keeping her alive before you realize this whole thing is a fucking MISTAKE!?” He roared, slamming me into the dining table. The wood buckled and split in half under the impact of my body.

Bile bit at the back of my throat, and I had to fight my initial instinct to tell her to get back in the car and go back to wherever she came from. Some small voice told me there was a better way to make that point, so I swallowed the sneer that threatened to split my face as I watched them approach.

She strolled next to Craig for a moment, seeming to fret over him, until her eyes swung up, and she saw the three of us standing outside the funeral home. Once upon a time, the smile that lit up her face would have melted my insides as she broke into a run. Leighton was the first to reach her, sprinting across the distance to sweep her up in his arms in a spin. Az was hot on his heels, if a bit more controlled.

Awe, look, she’s crying. How convincing.I thought to myself as I strolled along after my remaining brothers with my parents. It took several breaths to steady myself when theattention turned toward us, and I was glad I’d had my parents to duck behind to avoid being pulled into one of her performative hugs.

“Love, these are Dawn and Ian—Rich and Joey’s parents,” Az said, making a gesture betweenherand my parents. “Dawn, Ian. This is Victoria Bristol.”

“I know who she is,” my mother scolded Az, and for a moment, I hoped it was disdain I heard in her voice. “My boys told me so much about you, Victoria. I wish this were a happier occasion, but I’m glad to lay eyes on the woman my boys love.” Mom sniffled, wiping her eyes with a tissue before embracing the viper in our midst.

I wanted to puke when her eyes widened in surprise before she recovered herself and smiled sympathetically at my mother.