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Saint
Death is the enemy that no one can conquer. It doesn’t matter how skilled you are, or how many weapons you own. Death takes who it wants, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. I didn’t know Bailey long. I haven’t known any of these people long, except for Brantley, but how easily they’ve all pushed through my soul and set up there is terrifying. I couldn’t bear losing anyone this close. Not now, not ever. I’m hoping now that Veronica is dead, things can settle. We can move on and try to rebuild everything that we’ve lost. Brantley asked me if I wanted to know the details about her death, but I said no. I don’t need to. But that was only after he had told me that Valentina used her death to make a statement to the people of Perdita. She killed Veronica with an audience, and now people are falling into line for Valentina. I was partially surprised that Brantley gave her the option, considering how much damage she had done to him and The Kings, but he said he needed to stay adamant on the already few rules he had. No women, no old people, and no children. I respected him a lot for that, and I think in the back of my mind, it made me feel a little more at ease about what he does. He had every right to kill Veronica, but he didn’t. He allowed something that was more important to come from all of the carnage she left behind and agreed to allow Valentina to kill her in front of The Lost Boys. And now, I can start thinking about this baby and how Brantley and I are going to move forward, instead of being caught in an endless whirlpool of uncertainty and danger.
I wander around Bishop and Madison’s newly built castle. I would say house, but it’s literally a castle. Even the driveway is an obvious show of opulence. Sculpted hedges line the road, and stone sculptures are placed neatly in strange places. With sharp-pointed rooftops reaching for the sky, the endless glass windows, and the swarm of workers moving around the property, you definitely feel as though you’re about to meet royalty. It’s a palace fit for a king and queen.
Literally.
Well-played, Bishop. Well-played.
Most of the people who are here are on the main level that sprawls out onto the back yard which then overlooks endless greenery, but I find myself lost in the castle itself. Finding room after room, a massive library that has shelves built into walls that reach the ceiling, an underground bar and poker room, and finally, the pool. I did wonder why the pool wasn’t outside, but it turns out, they put it inside on the bottom level.
“Jesus, Bishop.” I shake my head, moving around the evergreen of plants and vines that wrap around the colosseum-style pillars. This house had to be close to a billion-dollar build. This kind of money should not exist.
“Mmmm, right? It’s over the top and totally a Hayes’ move.” Abel’s voice interrupts me from behind and I spin to find him in the darkest corner, a hoodie over his head and two empty bottles of vodka around him. I move closer, noting the powdered substance dusted out over a small mirror table, a one-hundred-dollar bill rolled up beside the lines of, what I know, are coke. I know this because I’ve watched Scarface. Many times.
“We are both Hayes, so…” I take a tentative step closer to him, before slowly lowering myself to the edge of the pool. I kick off my heels and slide my feet into the hot tub side, sighing when the hot water relaxes all of my muscles.
“I’m no Hayes any more than you are,” Abel says from behind me, and for all the alcohol he has clearly drunk, his speech is impeccable. Must be the cocaine offsetting the effects of it.
I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes, and I know he can’t see me since my back is to him. “Maybe, but we’re still family, Abel, and I am here for you.”
“I’m not Bishop,” Abel sneers, with almost too much bite in his tone. “I don’t need to have family or people around me. I’m aware of that even more so—” He pauses, and I can almost hear the pain in his throat. It hits me all at once. His sorrow. The cracks in his heart that suddenly spread to my own. “—now that she’s gone.” I don’t know much about Abel. I did plan to get to know him more in the future, but how naïve was that? To assume I would always have that chance. Death is anything but predictable.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Abel.”
There’s silence, and then I hear glass clatter to the ground and scuffling behind me before he appears at my side, kicking off his shoes and sliding his feet into the water while falling beside me. “You’re the first person to say that to me. You know that?”