Page 21 of Double Down

"Don't make us regret this," Storm's mother says.

"We won't," Storm replies.

"Good. The lawyers already have the paperwork. Don’t fuck this up," my father says, just before they disconnect.

Just like that.

No goodbye, no praise, not even an acknowledgment of the clusterfuck they've left us in.

The screen goes black.

Atticus exhales. "They know. The gang, the girl… all of it."

Maverick scrubs a hand through his hair. "Of course they do. They know everything. They always have."

Storm looks at me. "That's why they're doing this. If it gets out, we're liable—not them. Especially if they’re under scrutinyfrom any type of law enforcement. In a fucked up way, they’re protecting us just as much as they’re protecting themselves."

"Exactly," I say, closing my eyes for a beat and feeling the extra weight balanced precariously on my shoulders. It settles between my shoulder blades, right where it will hurt most when it drops. “They’re giving us a chance to steal the crown jewel of their legacy, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’re going to take it, make it ours, and make it impossible for them to steal it back.”

"Next steps?" Maverick asks.

I don't answer immediately. Phoenix is still in the corner, staring down at her phone. She’s too quiet.

"Go," I tell them. "Get some sleep. Meet back here in a few hours. We'll only fuck up if we're running on fumes."

They don't argue.

Maverick tosses me a sarcastic salute and vanishes first. Storm follows, tension already knotted back into his spine. Atticus pauses long enough to squeeze Phoenix's shoulder on his way out.

Then it's just her and me in the room that still smells faintly of sex and death.

My past and present problems sharing the same air, and it's all her goddamned fault.

5

Phoenix

We’re not done,little girl.

I sit without speaking and watch as all four of my exhausted, overwhelmed Titans have more bullshit piled on top of them. My phone is hot in my hands, my fingers clutched around it so hard they ache. Some silly little part of me believes that if I hold it tightly enough, the messages I just received won’t spill out and make everything so much worse.

I know I need to tell them, but after the ridiculous ultimatum their parents just gave them? It’s too much, even for them.

If they're right—and their parents are doing this to ensure any fallout lands on them and not on their parents or the hotel—it's a whole new level of fucked up. My father was an asshole and neglectful. Hell, he was abusive. But he would never intentionally throw me to the sharks.

Or maybe he would, and the pond he swam in was just too small for this level of betrayal. What he did was rank enough.

The memory of my dad still tastes like pennies in my mouth, sour and coppery from biting my cheek against everything I wishI could say and never will. My jaw goes tight at the inadvertent reminder. It still rises up when I least anticipate it, inconvenient ash.

One by one, the guys trail away to their separate rooms, until it’s me alone with Conrad. I wait for his cue. I don’t want to leave him, but I don’t want to fight, either, and the earlier cut still stings.

He watches me just as warily, until finally he sighs.

"All right, princess," Conrad says as he rises from the table and stretches his back, weariness in every line. I still don’t know if it’s an endearment or insult. He offers his hand, and I take it, allowing him to pull me up.

"Let's go to bed. We'll get a few hours of sleep, then we'll figure shit out. All of us."

“Me too?”