Page 111 of Silent Ties

As if I wasn’t already nervous.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Fantastic,” the crisp voice replies. “This is Ren Callahan. Do you know who I am?”

My mouth dries. “Uh, you took over for Aunt Macy.”

“The one and only. Anyway, I was just looking at my schedule. Would you be available to meet 8 p.m. tonight? Fujimori’s, you know where it is?”

Everyone knows where Fujimori’s is.

“Um.”

A slight laugh drifts down the line. “Lev, could Russet come to dinner please?”

I’ve never heard anyone teasingly speak to Lev like that before. She’s sarcastically disdainful and borderline insubordinate.Ren couldn’t give one fuck, and she somehow knows he’s right beside me, listening in.

He crosses his arm, leaning back. “Put her down with a plus one.”

“No, it’s invite only. Russet, I’ve got you on the books. See you soon.”

Ren ends the call. Lev rolls his eyes and I don’t know if it’s at Ren or because of the surprise on my face.

I never dealt with Aunt Macy but she’s a legend. All of Nancy’s jobs were lined up through the old woman known for her cigarette and oxygen tank combo.

“I’ve never met her before,” I say slowly.

Lev sighs, his forehead wrinkling. “Well, you’re not missing out on much.”

“What is it about?” Max asks, looking between his dad and uncle.

“Fuck if I know.” Lev stands, buttoning his jacket.

“She’s not going alone,” Max says.

“Ren’s rules.” Dmitri pulls out a cigarette, tugging the beanie on his head lower. “And you heard her. Russet goes alone.”

Lev and his brother leave first. Roma, with an awkward look, clears out next. Elijah, hands in his pockets, nods to me. I can’t tell if it’s sadness in his gray eyes.

I’m left with Max. The warehouse is too big and airy. The sunlight streaming through the windows casts it in gray rather than any cheery warmth.

The air tightens, clawing at me as I shakily stand from my chair.

“Do you fucking know what you did to me?” His voice sweeps over me, tiny shivers snaking along my skin.

He won’t look at me.

This is nothing compared to the time he found me eating pizza with Elijah.

A cold, dark abyss exudes from him.

“Do you fucking know what you did to me?” he asks again, one hand running through his hair. His voice is a low, tight tremor. “Answer me.”

I shake my head, not sure what to say.

“What was the fucking plan? Huh. Get yourself shot and killed. Get us all fucking shot and killed.”

“No!” Surprisingly, no tears come. His fury is never warm. It’s a bleak, frozen mountainside. The cold rage dulls me, a sadness creeping in.