Page 86
Story: Ready to Cash Out
Cold had literally orchestrated an entire plot to get Trev away from the Luchesi family and bring him here, and now he didn’t want to talk to him?
Fuck to the no.
Trev hurried to catch up, and he found Cold lounging in a parlor near the front door. There were three big plush chairs and a small table with a vase of fresh lilies.
Cold had taken the chair so his back would be to the wall, and there was a hint of a smile playing over his lips as Trev walked in.
It was then Trev realized he’d been skillfully baited to follow Cold here like a damn puppy.
“Wow.” Trev grinned. “You’re an asshole.”
“Thank you.” Cold held out his hand. “Knife, please.”
“Left it upstairs.”
“Now.”
Trev groaned and slid the butter knife out of his sleeve so he could dutifully surrender it. “There. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” Cold dropped the knife onto the table.
“So.” Trev plopped down in the other chair. “Is this the part where you ask me lots of stupid questions?”
“On the contrary, this is where you get to ask me lots of stupid questions,” Cold retorted. “I can’t promise I’ll answer them all, but what answers I do give will be honest.”
Trev narrowed his eyes.
He was a little grumpy about Cold tricking him into coming down here, so he decided to go right for the jugular with his first question.
Fuck it.
He didn’t have anything to lose.
“Why did you kill our father?”
“Because he was an abusive, violent, cowardly piece of shit.” Cold’s face didn’t even twitch. “I beat him until his face was an unrecognizable bloody pulp, threw him down two flights of stairs, and then I shot him fifteen times.”
Trev tensed, unable to hide his horror. “Wh-why would you admit to that? Why would?—”
“You thought you’d be cute trying to throw me off by asking a question you didn’t think I’d want to answer. So, I decided to give you a little more detail than I normally share. It’s all a matter of public record, as I was arrested, convicted, and then served time for his murder. My only regret about killing him is that I was far too merciful.”
Trev scoffed, and his stomach twisted. He thought about his chat with Rowena. “Did he hurt Rowena too?”
“There was no one in his life that he did not hurt if he could.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t…” Trev hesitated to say more.
“You don’t understand why your mother would lie to you?” Cold took the words right out of Trev’s mouth. “The easiest answer is usually the right one. She did it to protect you.”
Trev leaned forward. “Did you know her?”
“Not well, but I do know she left Strassen in quite the hurry about twenty years ago.”
“It was because of me,” Trev realized out loud. “I was born here and then we left when I was a kid. Like, four years old or something. She…” He looked at the lilies on the table.
They looked familiar, but he couldn’t place why at the moment.
“She wanted to get away from here. From all of this. That’s why she made up all the stories about our father being some fucking saint and damn aunt Suzanne being a jazz singer and?—”
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