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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

PERRY

The second we get to Tommy, lurking at the bottom of a set of metal stairs, I draw back my fist and swing. It hits his face with a satisfying whack and a very unsatisfying sting that shoots through my hand.

“ Ouch !”

“I’ll say!” Tommy stands, hand covering his cheek. “What the hell, Perry?”

I give him my most menacing stare, ignoring the way I’m cradling my hand in front of my chest like a kicked puppy. “Don’t ever pull that shit with my boyfriend again.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Well … not … officially, but it’s going to happen. So consider yourself warned.”

Instead of looking scared, I’m pretty sure he’s going to laugh at me. “Okay, okay, I’m warned.”

I don’t appreciate the way he’s blowing me off. I’ve never had fear like I did in that second. I’d thought he was serious, that he was actually going to kill one of the two most important people in my life, and if Ever hadn’t taken over and explained to me what Tommy was doing, he probably wouldn’t be standing here.

“I almost killed you.”

“I’d believe that if you’d ever killed anyone. ”

“That’s how angry I was. If Ever didn’t tackle me, you’d be dead right now.”

Some of the humor dims. “Got it.”

Lars and Arlie take that moment to join us, escorted by two men with the type of muscle you don’t want to test.

“Where’s Reilly?” Lars asks.

I’m about to tell him I don’t know when Tommy points up the stars. “With his brother.”

“You found Colin?”

“Sure did.” Tommy drops into a bow. “You’re welcome.”

I consider telling Lars what Tommy did, sure he’ll give my friend a matching bruise on the other cheek, but I hold off. We still need the baddie bunch.

The door at the top of the stairs opens, and St. Clare walks out, followed by his brother. I’m stupidly relieved to see St. Clare is okay, and my eyes follow every step he takes down the stairs as I hold back from pushing past the others to get to him. His blond hair is a floppy mess, but damn , it looks good on him. That, and this all-black getup we’re wearing, makes him look like even more of a badass than his suits do.

“We need to find Carson” are the first words out of St. Clare’s mouth. “This is all on him.”

Ever grunts. “Even if I wanted to be involved with that, no one knows his location.”

“Luther would.” Everyone turns and looks at me. “He works with him a lot. You can’t tell me he doesn’t keep tabs on these kinds of things.”

“He’s not just going to tell us though,” Arlie says. But while she says that, I can tell things are working madly in her brain.

“Another option is Yanni,” Colin adds, and it throws me how different his voice is to his brother’s. St. Clare’s is full of life, Colin’s is … like a robot. I’d been expecting them to be similar versions of the same guy. “They work together. Don’t know how we’d get it out of him, but if that’s our only option …”

Before they can follow that train of thought, I jump in too. “I don’t think he’s an option. Yanni was clear that if he had to see me again, it wouldn’t be pretty, and he was borderline scared of Carson Alexander too. Next?”

“Luther wants you,” Arlie says, attention on Colin. “Either you or Perry. That was the deal.”

“Not loving where this is going,” I admit.

St. Clare’s eyes meet mine for a worried second. “Neither am I.”

“Then we give up on finding Carson, and the rest of you are on your own.” She shrugs. “It really doesn’t bother me either way because I’m not the one who’s wanted, and Luther has no idea we’re working with you. I’m only saying … we could use that to our advantage.”

“Advantage?” My ears perk up at that. “What advantage?”

“If the three of us call and say that we have you both and we’ll hand you over in exchange for Carson’s location, there’s no way he won’t go for it.”

“You want to … trade me?” All the talk from St. Clare and Lars about doing exactly that comes back to me, and once again, I’m left feeling like the odd man out who no one wants. It’s hard to shake the feeling, but the more I try, the more I can admit that Arlie has a point. Colin and I are the only ones who can do this, and I’d rather be the bargaining chip over the brother St. Clare just got back. The brother who, quite frankly, doesn’t look like he’d survive a trade negotiation.

“Why do you look like you’re thinking about this?” St. Clare asks.

“Because I am. You and Lars had the same idea at one point, and I figure I can either be offended that everyone wants to pass me around like a hot piece of ass, or I can go with it. And I think I want to go with it.”

Saying it out loud confirms how I’m feeling. I want to be the guy who takes charge. I want to be the hero. And what’s more heroic than self-sacrifice?

“I say we do it.” My good-though-still-sore-from-punching-Tommy hand shoots into the air. “Who else votes yes?”

Arlie raises her hand, and Tommy takes a second to scrutinize me before he does too. Colin’s hand joins mine, and then it’s just Lars, Ever, and St. Clare to convince.

“You’re outnumbered,” I point out. “And if Colin and I are both on board, you don’t get to tell us not to do this.”

“I can ask you though.” St. Clare moves closer. “Don’t make me worry about you again.”

“Unfortunately, I’m going to be worried about me continuously until this guy is out of our lives, so I don’t see another option.”

The way his eyes dull kills me, but we really don’t have any other choice here.

“Everett.” Arlie’s voice diverts my attention. They’re staring at each other hard. “This is our chance.”

“Your chance at what?” I ask immediately.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

That’s not at all reassuring. “This whole thing concerns me.”

“What we’re talking about doesn’t. It’s been on the cards for a long time and isn’t something you need to worry about.”

I choke on indignation and thrust my hand at Tommy. “He pretended like he was going to kill St. Clare! So I almost killed him! This is where not talking gets us.”

Instead of shock, she laughs. “Good move,” she tells Tommy.

“Arlie!”

“Did we successfully find the brother? Yes? Good. Now, move on.”

“I’m in,” Ever says reluctantly, and if these three think we’re not going to revisit this conversation at a later time, they’re mistaken. I’m starting to understand why St. Clare held a grudge for so long.

Lars shifts his weight, throat tight when he says, “I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” Colin replies. “I’d like to not be in hiding for the rest of my life, so please put your hand up.”

With a sigh, he half raises his hand.

“Just you now,” I point out to St. Clare.

He looks around the circle like he’s deeply, deeply betrayed .

“We’re going to do it anyway, so at this point, you’re deciding whether you’ll join us.”

The air gushes from his lungs. “I’m in this to the end, but this is a big ask.”

“I know. I’m agreeing to someone playing tradesies with me.”

“We could always run away. Far, far away.”

“What about Saint Clare’s? And Margot and Elle?” That stumps him. “This will be over soon. Just say you’re gonna help.”

“Fine.” It doesn’t sound at all fine. “I’ll help.”

“We will too.”

I glance up at the person who’s joined Colin. Fiery dyed-red hair, as muscular as the people around us, and a sunshiny smile that’s at odds with how they make me want to cower behind St. Clare.

“If he thinks he’s getting to Colin, he has to go through me.”