Page 52

52

STAR

“OMG, Star, Link was riding behind us the whhhhoollllee way from Jersey! It was so freakin’ cool!” Katina shrieked as she flung herself at me.

All thin arms and spindly legs clambered around me, holding me tight, so tightly it hurt, but it hurt good .

Some days, I was sure she was the only thing I’d ever done right, and I hadn’t even made her, had just saved her life apparently.

Just .

Thinking of a world that didn’t have this little girl in it made me realize how grim a place it would be.

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, I closed my eyes as I hugged her back, reveling in the sweet scent of her shampoo and the perfume she’d sneaked from my room to spritz on herself.

The notion made me grin. “Thief.”

Katina gasped. “I’m not a thief.”

“No? Who sneaked into whose room to use my perfume?”

“You weren’t using it,” she pointed out.

“She’s not wrong,” Conor said easily from his position in the hallway where he was leaning against the wall, watching us.

“I’ve got two people ganging up on me now,” I grumbled as Katina released a giggle then let go of me and hurtled into Conor too. He released a choked breath as she… Well, somehow, she kicked him in the process of hugging him and maybe elbowed him in the gut all at the same time.

My kid, for someone so coordinated in gymnastics class, could orchestrate a calamity while walking in a straight line.

“You did it! You brought her back to me! Thank you!” Her cry of joy, of thanks, made tears prick my eyes.

Goddammit, D was right.

He was making me mushy.

Conor, still looking winded from the multiple blows, returned her embrace. “You don’t have to thank me, Kat. My job is to always bring her home.”

I clenched my jaw at those words.

Did he have to keep saying stuff that hurt but in a wonderful way?

Pressing a hand to my chest where an ache was forming, I watched my kid and, God, my man together.

It was too perfect.

So innocent.

Except it was nothing I expected and everything I’d never dared dream of having for myself. For ourselves.

Throat thick with emotion, I wandered forward, moving behind Kat and sandwiching her in a soft hug, needing to be a part of this small circle.

My family.

Not just pack.

Family.

I breathed into the notion, pressed my face into Conor’s throat which prompted him to settle his hand between my shoulders to hold me closer, and accepted the rightness of this moment.

That rightness filtered through me, spreading through my veins, overtaking everything with the promise of hope—something I never dared allow myself to have.

“You okay, my love?”

Startled, I tilted my head back to look at him. “Yeah, I’m…” There was only one word for it. “…perfect.”

And I was.

Nothing was resolved, everything was in the air, and tomorrow was not guaranteed, but at that moment, I really, truly was perfect.

He beamed a smile at me that was as earnest as it was genuine and I cupped his chin, knowing he could see the stars in my eyes and was unafraid to reveal them to him when he deserved each one.

“Star!”

Kat gained my attention by accidentally standing on my toe. “What, kiddo?”

“Who’s he?”

I blinked down at her. “Who’s who?”

She prodded me. “Him.”

Following her pointed finger, Conor was the one who, spotting the boy in the family room, answered, “That’s my nephew. Seamus.”

Her cheeks turned bright pink. “How do you spell that?”

“S-E-A-M-U-S.”

She frowned. “Why isn’t it ‘S-H-A-Y-M-U-S?’”

“You think his name is bad? Wait until you meet Aoife,” Conor drawled, making me snort. “But we call Seamus ‘Shay’ for short. All the vowels together is kind of an Irish thing.”

Katina absorbed that information like the sponge she was. “Who’s Aoife?”

“My sister-in-law.”

I cleared my throat and took it upon myself to do the unthinkable: “She’s family now, Kat.”

My kid arched a brow at me, looking as sassy as a seventeen-year-old and not a preteen. “Family like Alessa or family like Link?”

Pondering that a second, I answered, “Bit of both, but Aoife bakes brownies for a living and doesn’t talk about motorcycle engines all the time.”

Kat giggled. “He doesn’t talk about them all the time.”

I grinned. “Just most of it. But she’s going to be your aunt.”

Conor’s eyes widened, but he didn’t correct me.

“When? I haven’t had an aunt in ages.”

The words drew my attention. “When did you last have an aunt?”

“When I was really little. She was super nice,” she said absently. “Do you think Aoife will give me a brownie?”

Tension filled me. “What was her name? You never mentioned an aunt before.”

Her brow puckered but not in sass this time. A strange blankness filtered into her eyes as if she were shielding her thoughts from me, but I could sense it was outside of her autonomy. Like her subconscious was protecting itself.

Fuck, what was wrong with my kid?

I’d seen her do this before, seen her just check out, but never this deeply.

Blankly, she muttered, “I-I don’t remember.”

I dropped into a crouch and reached up to cup her chin. “How come? Because you were so small?”

“I guess,” she whispered, her fear obvious. “Why can’t I remember, Star?”

My smile was easy when, deep inside, I felt anything but. “You were so little, kiddo. I don’t remember things from when I was that young. Do you, Conor?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Aoife will definitely give you a brownie, Kat, but probably not until after we’ve eaten. Are you ready for dinner?”

She turned to reply to Conor, “I-I guess.”

A dimness had settled in Kat’s eyes, one that replaced the wall of before. It concerned me because it reminded me of the times when she woke up from a nightmare, and the idea of sending her back home with the potential for another episode—one we hadn’t had to deal with in so long—put me on edge.

“Brennan and Eoghan’s sister-in-law, Victoria, she’s here too. She’s younger than Shay. I know Shay brings a Switch with him if you want to play games?”

That seemed to perk her up some and, silently, I thanked him for easing her distress.

“If Seamus is your nephew, does that mean he’s my cousin?”

He cast me a look. “Well, yes.”

“He’s really pretty.”

I snorted at her wistful tone. “I thought you had a soul mate in your class.”

Kat frowned. “You’ve been gone too long, Star. We moved on. It was time.”

“Soul mates don’t move on,” I pointed out.

“Of course they do,” she chided me like I was the idiot here. “Life’s too short to just have one soul mate. That’s why Camden is so perfect for me.”

“It helps that he’s about twenty-five years too old for you and doesn’t know you exist as well.”

“Savannah told me she’d introduce us,” she crowed.

Apparently sensing we were going to start bickering, Conor chuckled. “I think your opinion on soul mates will change when you watch The Notebook , Katina.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course, you’ve watched that.”

“Meaning you haven’t?” he sputtered. When I shook my head, he gaped at me. “We’re changing that. At some point, you are watching that movie with me.”

“I can watch it with you,” Kat declared, sounding more like herself. Thank fuck.

“I think you’re too young, Kat.” He pulled a face. “I don’t know the age it’s rated for. I mean, there’s no…”

Stifling a laugh, I replied, “You’ll just have to wait, Kat. It’s like the rides at the amusement parks that are too big for you.”

“No fair,” she pouted. “I want to watch too.”

“We’ll find something to watch together, don’t worry. Conor loves cartoons.”

Her eyes lit up, and the joy overwhelmed the earlier episode of… What? Dissociation? How had I never seen how deep this went before? Because I was on the lookout for trauma, not something else like fugue states?

“We can watch those together!” she cheered, drawing me back into the conversation. “Do you like Naruto ?”

I groaned. “Don’t get her started on that weird fox dude. Only sociopaths grin like that?—”

“Weird fox dude?” They both blurted that at the same time, their outrage unfabricated.

“Never mind that Kakashi weirdo.” Because my brain was on a delay, I asked Conor a stupid question, “You know he reads porn?”

Of course, Katina picked up on that. “What’s porn?”

Before I had to answer, someone called out, “Hey!” The three of us turned as one and found Seamus, Conor’s nephew, standing there, wearing an easy, welcoming smile. “Uncle Con!”

Conor hooked Shay around the neck and hauled him in for a bear hug. “You managed to stay out of trouble since I’ve been gone?”

His nose crinkled. “Maybe. You blacking out half of my social media helped.”

Chuckling, Conor drawled, “Be careful what you wish for and don’t get…” He cast a quick glance at Katina who was staring at the older boy with stars in her eyes. “…you know. Don’t be dumb.”

“I won’t. It was a party!”

Ah. Party = drunk.

“Anyway, I’m about to go and set up a game and wondered if you’d like to play with Victoria and me?”

Before my very eyes, my precocious brat of a kid blushed bright pink and turned timid as hell. “I’d like that. Thank you so much for including me.”

Without another look at either of us, she drifted away, her usual social commentary on life put on mute which was a testament to her sudden shyness.

Shaking my head at her antics, I turned to Conor who was studying me. “I know we have to talk but I can’t not do this,” he mumbled, stepping into me, one hand settling on my waist, the other cupping my nape.

When his mouth pressed against mine, I sagged into him, knowing he’d take my weight, knowing he’d support me.

That he always would.

My lips parted, accepting the soft greeting of his tongue, the caress a ‘hello.’ A ‘you make me happy.’

I’d never made anyone happy.

In fact, I’d always done the exact opposite and usually, I’d gone out of my way to ensure I pissed as many people off as I could. Bitter, discontented people did not make for nice humans.

But Conor changed that by being him.

I slipped my arms around his waist and clung to him, my head falling against his shoulder until he retreated, pressing his forehead to mine as we both caught our breaths.

“Retrograde amnesia like Cin said, do you think?” he asked quietly. It didn’t come as a surprise that he’d taken note of what Kat had gone through.

“Could be. She had the same look in her eyes as when she had a nightmare. But worse.”

He cupped the ball of my shoulder. “Do you want to spend the night here? Have her sleep over instead of going back to West Orange?”

For a woman who was used to depending on herself, who was slowly embracing that she wasn’t just a team of one anymore, how he blew down my barriers continued to stun me. His offer was enough to make me tighten my arms around his waist and hug him in gratitude.

“Would you mind? Would Aoife and Finn?” I whispered.

“Why would they care? This place is massive.”

“She might…” I grimaced.

“Wet the bed?”

“She used to when she had a nightmare.”

Conor pursed his lips in contemplation. “Do you want to head back to West Orange? Have her spend the night somewhere she knows she’s safe?”

“No. We’re already delaying things by spending the night.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “I have a bad feeling…”

“About?”

“Troy.”

“I’ve accessed her phone records. We could call her and warn her that we’re coming?”

I bit my lip, the need to?—

Crap, I didn’t even know.

I just had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Granted, it had only been triggered by Kat’s visceral reaction to something as simple as being told she had some new family members, but…

“What is it?”

“Maybe Aoife has some sheets or something for Jake? For when he has accidents?”

He frowned at the abrupt change of conversation. “Yeah. Of course. If not, we can buy some.”

“Right. I just don’t want her to feel humiliated, and maybe,” I muttered, “she could stay here while we go and visit Troy? She’d be safe here, right?”

“I installed the security system and you put the firewall through your paces during mock runs last spring. It’s probably more secure than a vault.”

A relieved breath escaped me. “Yeah. You’re right. We locked your code up tight.”

“We did, and I worked on the system with Eoghan too. It’s pretty much a fortress. Plus, there are guards. We bought the building next door so they’re on the ground.”

“Really? That seems excessive.”

He just shrugged. “The past year has proven we need to have guards.”

“You don’t have any.”

“I have you,” he teased, which made me laugh.

“Stop making me smile,” I argued, wiping a hand over my twitching lips.

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

I huffed. “Yes, it’s true.”

His smugness made me punch him in the arm.

“Hey! Brennan just hit that fucking arm. Ouch.”

“Don’t be a baby.” I sniffed when he grumbled under his breath. “If she’s here, then I’ll feel better.”

“What is it, Star?” he questioned, still rubbing his arm but seeming to read beneath the layers and sensing my unease.

“I don’t even know. Ovianar just got into my head, that’s all. She said that the kids were in danger.”

“I doubt it. I mean, at the time, sure, but they were just toys in the game back then. It’s not likely they’re in danger now, is it?”

“They witnessed their parents’ murders, Conor. Sure, those murders were by ex-cons, but we figured they were tied to a Sparrow-backed operation through Jorgmundgander, so what’s to stop someone else from connecting the dots too?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.” I blew out a breath, suddenly torn now that he was on the same page as me.

It had made sense to catch up with family while we were in the US, because who the fuck knew where we’d be in thirty-six hours? Now, I just felt like each of these minutes were borrowed.

Stolen.

All because I’d seen the tangible effect of the past on my kid.

“We could leave now. Ask the questions that need asking. Get back in time for dinner?”

“They won’t be eating soon?”

“No. There are snacks and we eat late.”

“I should have left Katina at the compound,” I muttered. “I can’t leave her with strangers.”

He reached out to knot our hands together. “It’s not ideal, but she’s already playing with Shay so that will keep her occupied. She’s safe. Physically . Eoghan is here. He won’t let anyone hurt her. Never mind the rest of my brothers.”

Nodding, I swallowed. “I’ll tell her we’re heading out.”

“Heading out? Where?”

Twisting around and finding Cin leaning against the doorjamb and listening in, I said, “I’ve got a bad feeling.”

She straightened up—as aware as I was about the importance of following your gut. “About?”

“Troy.”

“You think she’s in danger.”

I rubbed my eyes as that strange urgency continued to pound at me like fists to the head. “Yeah. Dumb but…”

“Not dumb. We’ve wended a path across the globe that has led us to Troy. That path is traceable and Reinier is MIA. That has to concern Smythe and Foundry. The original six are suddenly down to two.” She peered at Conor. “Does this place have an armory?”

Her words weren’t reassuring but at least I didn’t feel like I was freaking out for no reason now.

“It’s an O’Donnelly family home,” he retorted. “Of course it does.”

I didn’t even have it in me to smile.

My cell buzzed as he guided D where she was most comfortable—surrounded by submachine guns.

Unknown: How goes the search?

My brows lifted at the uncanny timing of, well, it had to be Kuznetsov, didn’t it?

Was the timing too uncanny though?

I peered around, wondering if he was spying on us, but like Conor had said, I’d troubleshot his network security before I’d taken off.

His code wasn’t just perfect; it was crazy beautiful in its complexity.

Me: Kuznetsov?

Unknown: Yes. You know my name. You use it.

Me: Do you know someone called Belyaev?

Unknown: Knew of him. He’s dead now.

Me: I know.

Unknown: Why do you ask?

Me: Do you know WHY he died? Or how?

Unknown: No.

Me: He died on the same day as your son.

Unknown: What?!

Me: Do you know that he was a Sparrow?

I purposely kept that cryptic. Whether or not his son was a Sparrow was something I didn’t feel like dropping over text. Whatever I thought of him, he was old.

Unknown: I did. He was highly ranked.

Me: One of the highest.

Unknown: Was his death related to Aleks’?

Me: Yes. We’re still ascertaining how.

Unknown: Belyaev was feeding us intel.

Me: On?

Unknown: Art trafficking from looting during Operation: Enduring Freedom.

Whatever I’d expected him to say, it wasn’t that.

Unknown: For obvious reasons.

My breath hitched.

Me: Me?

Unknown: Yes. That was why you were swallowed up by their trafficking operation, no?

Well, that and the double agent in our ranks, but I wasn’t about to share anything of that nature with him.

Me: You were trying to find me?

Unknown: Yes. Belyaev was an old friend of Aleks’. From school.

Me: They were friends?!

Unknown: Yes. Aleks, like your mother, was a double agent.

Me: You knew he was a Sparrow?

Unknown: Yes. He was a Brother first.

Unknown: Belyaev had a bride from the Sparrow slaves. When Aleks learned that she died, he suspected Belyaev was behind her death and used it as leverage against him.

Unknown: Before that point, Aleks was well-positioned but not highly ranked.

Me: Why didn’t you tell me this when we started?

Unknown: I wanted to see what you’d uncover on your own.

Me: And what I’d share with you?

Me: You were testing me.

Unknown: This comes as a surprise?

Me: It shouldn’t. You didn’t know their deaths were linked?

Unknown: I don’t see why. Belyaev was visiting Ohio at the time of his death. He passed away from a heart attack in a hotel room in Cincinnati.

Me: He didn’t. He died in a car crash. Where did you get that information from?

Unknown: It’s irrelevant.

Me: It isn’t if someone fed you false intel.

Unknown: I’ll deal with it.

Unknown: Are you close to finding his killer?

Me: Closer to finding your granddaughter.

The opposite was true but he didn’t need to know that.

Unknown: This is fantastic news.

Me: I have to go.

Unknown: Whatever you need to facilitate this investigation, you can have.

Me: Now that I’ve proven myself?

Unknown: Yes.

Me: Okay, so who fed you the dirty intel?

Unknown: As we speak, Interpol is creating a place within its infrastructure for a department dedicated to the Sparrows and their trafficking.

So it was going to be like that, huh?

I hated stonewalling.

Me: Even though I haven’t provided results yet?

Unknown: Results or not, they are scum and scum needs eradicating.

Me: Were you always going to create this department?

Unknown: It has been in the cards for the past two years. I saw little point when the public had no knowledge of the corruption in their governments, but now, it’s different.

Unknown: A department of this nature is costly. It’s only affordable if public outcry is strong.

Me: Which it is.

Unknown: Never been higher. Find me my granddaughter, Star. She lost her family, too, and she might be alone and has no need to be.

Me: I’m doing my best. I have to go.

Not wanting to accept that his words had worked their way into my conscience, I shoved my phone into my back pocket.

Seeing that Cin and Conor hadn’t returned from the armory yet, I headed through the family room and toward a smaller den where two teenagers and Katina were playing Mario Kart.

Stepping over to her, I placed a hand on Kat’s shoulder. “Kat, I have to go out.”

“I don’t need to come, do I?”

My lips curved—she was back to being precocious. Thank God. “No. I’d hate to ruin your game.”

“I’m winning,” she preened.

“Keep at it, slugger,” I teased, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll be back later, okay? If they serve dinner without us, will you be all right?”

“She’ll be fine,” the girl, Victoria, assured me with a kind smile. “We already said we’re going to watch a movie after we’ve finished up here.”

Appreciating that they were including her, I returned the smile. “I hope you guys have fun.”

With a lingering look at Katina, who not once had turned her gaze away from the screen, I left them to it, feeling better about abandoning her here when she’d already made friends with Seamus and Victoria. I knew she was more comfortable with older kids because of how many adults she spent her time with, and this just confirmed it for me.

Upon my return to the hallway, Cin was packing semi-automatics into one of two black duffel bags and Conor was slipping a gun into a holster on his shoulder.

My brows rose at the sight, mostly because that was hot as fuck and unexpected.

He smirked at me. “See something you like?”

“No, none of that,” Cin groused. “I’m too young for this kind of behavior.”

“You were talking about orgies earlier,” Conor grumbled.

“Yeah, I’m plenty old enough for that.”

Rolling my eyes at her, I ducked down and pulled open one of the bags, studying what we had. “We’re packing for war?”

“Prevention is better than the cure.”

“Not sure that works with weapons,” I mused.

“The Whistler’s here,” she prodded. “He’d be good to have on-site instead of hacker boy.”

“I want him guarding this place. Just in case. Plus, this isn’t his fight.”

“It’s our fight,” Conor disagreed. “You want him on this, I’ll get him. I already told him that we’re leaving and to be on the lookout for trouble while we’re gone. He’s always prepared for war anyway. He’s probably got a dismantled AK-47 tucked into his pockets.”

Cin snorted. “Impossible.”

“I was being facetious. Can’t you take a joke?”

Not wanting them to start sniping at each other, I shook my head. “Let him stay here. If Cin’s complimenting him then I know he’s one of the best and that’s what I want protecting the family.”

Cin clucked her tongue but kept a lid on it, and Conor just watched me slip on a knife holster and two gun holsters.

Once we were suited and booted, we headed for the door, but not before Conor was pulled back by Brennan. Whatever they bickered about had Brennan scowling and Conor smirking, but he didn’t say anything to stop us from leaving, just watched us go.

When we were on the road, I felt better. Proactive. Veering toward a goal instead of wasting time. Not that meeting up with Kat had been a waste of time, but the cloud of anxiety I was existing in at the moment had definitely been stirred up by her.

For the whole of the hour-long journey, I drummed my fingers against the armrest, agitated and uncertain about what we were walking into.

Troy was as neurotic as anyone in the business, so I knew it wouldn’t be easy speaking with her. Especially if she didn’t want us there, and I couldn’t see her being welcoming.

Conor’s hand kept a firm grasp on my free one and I let our fingers bridge, allowing the connection to stop me from feeling like I was going to burst out of my skin.

When he offered me a Pixy Stix, I shook my head. The thought of eating made me nauseated.

After we crossed the state line and approached Stamford, I turned to him as a thought occurred to me. “Are you in contact with Dagda? I’m going to assume you are, seeing as you negotiated with him?”

He sighed. “Is this really the time for that argument?”

“No. But I’m not arguing. He could be in danger too.”

“You’re freaking out about this, aren’t you?” D muttered, staring at me in the rearview mirror of our SUV.

“I am. I spoke with Kuznetsov via text before we left?—”

“And you’re just telling us this now ?” she snapped.

“I had to let it percolate,” I retorted.

“Less bickering, more explaining,” Conor reasoned, tone calm.

“He knew his son was a Sparrow. He was a plant. Belyaev was passing information to him about…” I swallowed. “The CIA was involved in looting important artifacts in Afghanistan, D. It was one of the reasons why I was taken. Kuznetsov confirmed that Belyaev was feeding Aleks information about that deal.” It came as a pleasant surprise to be able to say, “Kuznetsov was looking for me.”

Conor’s hand tightened around mine in silent support, undoubtedly recognizing how much that meant to me.

“I’m glad,” was all he said though.

My smile was shaky. “He believed that Belyaev died of a heart attack in his hotel room in Cincinnati, so someone fed him bad intel.”

“What about that makes you think Dagda is in danger?” D questioned.

“I don’t know,” I said uneasily. “But what harm would it do to call him and check in?”

Nodding, Conor reached for his cell phone, and I watched as he hit connect.

“We’re about ten minutes away from Troy’s homestead,” Dead To Me informed us.

“Great.”

Tapping my toe now, I watched as Conor waited for his call to be picked up, but when there was no success, he shrugged.

“Keep trying,” I rasped.

“I will.”

Minutes later and exiting the highway, D decelerated as we approached a large parcel of land which, according to Google Maps, had a house in the center of a massive spread of corn fields.

Unlike other homesteads in the area, this one had an electric fence around the perimeter and a large gate that had more cameras on it than a Hollywood star on the red carpet. The defenses were more fitting for government-owned property than private land.

When we pulled up in front, Dead To Me tapped the buzzer.

“Still no answer from Dagda,” Conor muttered.

“State your business,” a crisp voice demanded on the intercom.

“Troy? It’s Dead To Me.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“We need to speak with you.”

“Who’s we?”

“Lodestar’s with me, plus her man.”

“That bitch has a man?” Troy hooted. “Now I really believe today is doomsday.”

Though I huffed under my breath, I stayed silent.

“She does, but we’ve come because we think you’re in danger.”

Troy snorted. “Ain’t we always?”

“No. This is different. Let me in, Troy. We’re on the same side.”

“Doubt it. Look, this ain’t a good time.”

Before she could give us more attitude, I leaned forward so I could project my voice, snapping, “It’s about Jorgmundgander, Troy.”

There was dead silence, then the gates pulled inward.

That boded well .

The moment we were on the driveway, the gates closed behind us. Dead To Me didn’t set off until the latch clicked and the area was secured. As we drove toward the house, Conor kept trying Dagda, but that he’d been trying for ten minutes fucking straight was a portent we didn’t exactly need right now.

Disquieted, I twisted around, scanning the land for only God knew what. For as far as the eye could see, however, the remnants of corn season laced the horizon.

That meant the corn rows provided no shelter for anyone sneaking around, but it also gave us no cover from the highway, which only amped up my agitation.

I was always good under pressure, but this was hitting differently.

I didn’t know if that was because I was different or what, but if I’d had a gun in my hand instead of in a holster, I’d have a hair trigger.

When we made it down the ridiculously long driveway, it was with relief we pulled up outside the house.

It was a regular farmhouse—to laymen’s eyes. But the structure was clearly reinforced with security protocols that didn’t belong on farmland.

More CCTV and, undoubtedly, a ton of other measures that weren’t visible to the eye—heat sensors, pressure monitors, and the like kept it locked up nice and tight.

The farmhouse was also surrounded by trees, deciduous, which made me reach for my weapon when we were on the ground.

Dead To Me peered at the trees too, and that was when I saw it— a glint.

“She’s in the trees,” I called out, moving behind the car and keeping it as a meager shield, motioning to Conor to do the same.

“What do you want?” Troy hollered, unafraid to reveal her location now that we were staring at the tree she’d picked for a nest.

“We told you—to talk.”

Her Kentucky accent was thicker than ever as she spat, “Ain’t no one who wants to talk about Jorgmundgander with me that don’t have trouble on their mind.”

“Then why the hell did you let us in, Troy?” D retorted impatiently, plunking her hands on her hips.

“You armed?”

I scoffed. “Of course we fucking are.”

“I wanna see your weapons before I come down.”

“I thought she was visually impaired?”

D answered Conor, “She is.”

“Then how the fuck is she up a tree and trying to shoot us?”

“She either lied or she can see better than she let on.”

“What are you bitching about?” Troy hollered. “Less talking, more showing.”

“This is ridiculous,” I grumbled, but I flashed her my holsters. D did too.

“What about him?”

“I don’t carry weapons,” Conor lied.

My cell buzzed. Spying Ovianar’s number, I frowned but turned away from Troy to pick it up.

“Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Hang up the phone!” Troy snarled.

Hearing the click of the safety on her weapon ricochet around the otherwise silent clearing, I just flipped her the bird.

Showing my back to someone armed with a sniper’s rifle wasn’t smart, but this was total BS and we all knew this was her trying to establish some control over the situation.

“Ovianar, what?—”

“STAR!”

Minerva’s scream had me freezing up. “Minerva? What is it?”

Her sobs echoed down the line. “She’s gone. Oh, God, she’s gone.” Her wail hit me straight in the heart. “How could you do this to us? How?”

The anger and the fear and the grief coalesced into one mass that she hurled at me. For a moment, it choked me. I had no words. Nothing to say. What could I say?

“I didn’t…” My mouth worked. “W-What happened? Where are you?”

“We needed milk,” she cried. “I-I went out, came back, and she… Oh, God. She’s gone. She’s fucking gone. Dead. She’s dead.” The sob she released made me realize I did have a heart and it was breaking.

We’d fallen out years ago, but I never wished ill on them. Ever.

A shiver worked its way up my spine. “She can’t be!”

“She is. She goddamn is,” she shouted.

“The cops?—”

“They’re here. Tryn too and?—”

“How?” I rasped.

“How? That’s all you can ask me? You got her killed, you fucking cunt.”

“I need to know,” I snarled, willing to take her insults on the chin but needing answers nonetheless. “Did she… Could she have…”

“This wasn’t suicide,” she spat. “It was to the back of her head.” This time, the wail that keened from her had me shuddering in response to her grief. “She— Her— Oh, God. How am I supposed to live without her? How? Brady—what am I going to tell him?”

When she started sobbing again, the purest dose of guilt hit me like I’d snorted a gram of fentanyl. I closed my eyes as I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Minerva.”

But she didn’t want to hear it, and I couldn’t say that I blamed her.

“Fuck you,” she spat. “You did this. You brought this to us. She’s dead because of you .”

My mouth trembled as I turned to Conor when a hand cupped my shoulder. “What is it?”

“Fuck you, Star. Fuck you. I hope they do to you what they did to her, you fucking bitch.”

When she cut the line, I was almost relieved. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t hang up on her. Not after…

Swallowing, I whispered, “Ovianar was executed.”