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CHAPTER FIFTY

ST. CLARE

My legs are bouncing out a rhythm as I sit in the hospital chair, waiting for any kind of news and wanting to be literally anywhere else. Lars’s hand closes over my knee again, and he murmurs, “He’ll be okay,” for only the millionth time since we got here.

Margot was allowed to go through when she tore in here in an oversized jacket, polka dot pants, and odd shoes, and after that flurry of activity, it’s been dead out here.

I internally cringe at my choice of words.

It’s been still . Silent. The waiting is digging into my nervous system and sending it haywire.

I don’t know what Everett and Arlie told the ambulance about the shooting, and they took way too long to even call one for my liking, so if he’s not okay … if he … if he …

The automatic door beside the waiting area swings open, and Margot bursts out of it. “Blood loss, lots of pain meds, but should be okay.”

Every last scrap of oxygen and tension whistles out of me. I hunch over my knees, feeling even more sick than I was a second ago, while Lars rubs my back.

“So he’s fine.”

“They’ll know more once he’s conscious, but no vital organs were hit.” And like she’s been holding herself up by sheer will, she drops suddenly into a crouch, arms wrapped tight around her knees. “He got so fucking lucky.”

I’m nodding because I don’t have the words. Relief isn’t strong enough for what I’m feeling now.

Elle leaves her seat and sits beside Margot, pulling her into her arms. “We’ve always known Perry was something special, love. This just proves it.”

“I’d like him to never, ever prove it again,” she says, and then she bursts into tears. Huge, body-shaking sobs, the kind that has my own eyes prickling. I echo that same sentiment all the way down to my bones, and I’m somehow going to look after him completely during his recovery while making sure he knows how absolutely furious I am that I need to look after him in the first place.

We’re a fucking team, and putting himself in danger like that isn’t something he’s going to do ever, ever again. Even with Margot assuring us that he’s going to be okay, I’m not sure I believe her. I’ve been in this frozen state of horror for hours now, and while it’s thawing, the process is slow, and I’m still waiting for everything to go drastically wrong again.

“When can Reilly see him?” Lars asks on my behalf, and thankfully, he does because it didn’t even occur to me that it would be a possibility.

Margot scrubs at her puffy eyes. “He’s sedated, but you can go through.”

Thank fucking god. I forget to even thank her as I head for the automatic doors and barely stop myself from running down the hall to his room. Everything is so white and busy back here, but as soon as I see his room number, I screech to a halt.

My knees lock up, and I almost go flying right past, but nothing is going to stop me from seeing him. I inch inside, nudging the hospital-grade blue curtain out of the way, and the second he comes into view, I want to cry too.

He’s hooked up to machines, hair a matted mess, and his skin that isn’t bruised and swollen is far paler than it usually is. My heart squeezes at the sight.

I’ve always felt that Perry was mine to protect, and the feeling has heightened every day that I’ve known him. Seeing him like this? I feel helpless. Like my one purpose has been snatched away from me, and I’m scrambling to work out what to do next.

I take the chair beside his bed and reach out for his hand. It’s not the usual, enthusiastic warmth I’m used to, but I kiss it anyway, watching his face, hoping for any sign that he knows I’m here too.

There’s nothing.

No twitch.

No flicker of a smile.

No eyelid flutter.

Just sleep.

Which is good. Sleep is good. He’s going to need a lot of it.

My hold on his hand tightens. Perry’s the sole reason to keep my heart beating. The one who makes me want to be better than I’ve ever been before.

I hate seeing him like this.

***

Leaving Perry at the hospital is almost impossible, but while he’s sedated, there’s nothing I can do for him. Right now, I need to make sure everything is okay with my brother and that we don’t need to worry anymore.

He texts me to meet him at Lethal Poison, and I’m apprehensive about stepping foot into the place where I thought my boyfriend was dying, but if this is what it takes to find answers, I’ll do it. All I want is for everything to go back to normal again.

I miss Saint Clare’s so much.

I miss the chaos and the fun, and I miss the way I got to enjoy myself there and not have to constantly look over my shoulder. Hell, maybe Perry will even come and work for us since I’m assuming his cafe job won’t be waiting .

I make my way over the demolition site and toward the back, where I can make out voices. I’m trying not to focus on how Perry felt here, on which emotions were running wild through him, and just remind myself that he’s going to be okay.

He will be.

“Hey,” Colin says as I walk into the office. He’s sitting on the floor with Onyx, books open around them, while Arlie is typing away at a computer on the desk, and Tommy and Everett lounge in the corner. Ever’s flipping through something while Tommy has his feet kicked up, whistling that same tune he whistled with his gun pointed at my head.

“That’s very unsettling,” I tell him, and he grins back but keeps whistling. I look away from him and take in the room instead. “I thought there’d be a whole lot more blood than this.”

And by more , I mean any.

“Our team is efficient,” Arlie says. “The police have already been by to see where Perry”—she makes bunny ears with her fingers—“shot himself.”

I don’t want to be reminded of that moment ever again. The whole run here, I’d been terrified I’d walk in and find him dead, and fighting Luther on the floor was only a step up from that.

I still can’t believe he took a bullet for me. He probably would have taken a lot more than one if Arlie wasn’t so fast and took out both Luther and the guy who shot Perry before they could react.

“What are you all doing?”

She pushes back from the desk and stands, stretching her arms out high. “Taking over. I’ve wanted Lethal Poison for the last year or two. Luther wasn’t running it right, too focused on his side hustle, and I’d learned enough to know that he’d moved into illegal substances.”

“Drugs?”

“He imports, passes on to a colleague, and then shares a cut. Or … he did.” She gets this wicked smirk. “Lethal Poison wasn’t part of the drug trade when I started here, or I wouldn’t have taken this job. It killed both my parents and was a firm line for me, so when I to ld Luther I wanted out, he blackmailed me. Told me Carson Alexander was too invested in my hits.”

“We should have guessed,” Everett grumbles. “All those rumors we heard about him … all started here.”

“This way was for the best.” Arlie leans against the desk. “If I’d known before, I wouldn’t have been able to keep him convinced I was loyal. Now, we can tell everyone that Carson Alexander wanted him dead, and who are they to question it? It’s not like Carson can come back from the dead and deny it.”

“That’s why you helped us?”

“If you’re good at something, don’t do it for free. This was our payoff. I didn’t know it would go down exactly like this—I actually thought Perry would be the one to kill him, which would have made things just as easy.”

My foot nudges the books Colin and Onyx are poring over. “What’s all this?”

“Creditors,” Colin answers. “It’s a mirror of the accounts my PI found with Yanni, only Carson’s side of things. I’ve been trying to get hold of Ryan Wing all day though, and he’s not answering …”

“Who?” Arlie asks, narrowing her eyes.

“He’s the man I hired to look into Yanni. Really good at his job, but then he just stopped taking my calls.”

Arlie grabs her phone and types something, then turns it to show a tattooed man with long hair. “Him?”

“Yeah, how did you?—”

“He’s dead.”

Colin’s mouth drops. “What? How?”

“I killed him. It was the first hit I took Perry on.”

“How do you remember that?”

“Haven’t you learned your lesson about other people’s business yet?”

Onyx sets their hand over Colin’s and shakes their head. “Let it go. For now, we have what we need.”

It takes my brother a moment, and I can tell he’s struggling with the unanswered question, and knowing that Ryan’s fate could have just as easily been his if it wasn’t for Onyx.

“What do we do with all this?” Colin asks, looking back at the paperwork. “It’s not like we can go to the police with it now that Luther’s been killed. They’ll ask questions and want to know how we got our hands on the evidence.”

“We don’t need to go to the police,” I say, still bitter over them not being the ones to find Colin. “We only need to go to Yanni. Carson’s gone now. He can’t hide behind him anymore.”

“Then … everything goes back to normal?” he asks.

Back to normal. That’s … impossible to think about.

“Guess so,” I tell him, and it’s like all the stress leaves my brother. “Do you want me to do it?”

He’s fast to shake his head as he takes another photo of the page in front of him. “I will. Well, me and Onyx. We need to face him, and you need to stay out of this mess.”

For once, I’m more than fucking happy to agree.

Then Arlie cuts in. “No. We’ll do it. You two need to get back to your vanilla lives and goddamn stay there. There’s nothing I enjoy more than dealing with drug dealers.”

“What happens to this place?” I ask, gesturing at the room.

Arlie returns to the desk chair. “We wait for Luther to miss paying all his bills, then I swoop in with the money to take over. Most of the guys here aren’t loyal to him, only their next paycheck, and that’s something I can offer them.”

“So you’re going to continue. With your … job.”

“Yes.” She looks me down like she’s daring me to disagree with her. “There are always bad people who need to die, and I sleep really fucking well knowing that I’m taking them off the streets. That was the whole point of this place when I started here, and I want to get it back to that.”

Considering how good of a shot she is, it’s not like I’m about to argue with her. Especially not with deconstructive Ever sitting so close.

“Best of luck to you,” I say, because what else do you tell a contract killer who’s planning to extend her operations?

“Thank you.” She turns toward the computer and pauses again. “I’m glad Perry will be okay. Tell him to come and see us when he’s better, got it?”

“Ah … got it.”

“Good. He’s family now. We protect our own.”

While I don’t know how to feel about that creepily sweet sentiment, I know exactly how Perry will react.

With excitement. Like a dog who’s been adopted and can’t stop doing zoomies.

Which means that I’m stuck with them too.

Love that for me.

“Thank you.”

With that organized, I turn to leave, wanting to get back to Perry so I can look after him when he wakes. Margot is going to fight me for custody of the injured monster, but I’m not going to let her win. Not this time. She’s looked after him for their whole lives, so it’s my turn now.

I get all the way to the door before something bright red catches my attention, half caught between the door and the wall.

Curious, I crouch down and dig it out, a little zing of surprise shooting through me.

It’s a strawberry.

And I know exactly where I’ve seen it before.