Page 47 of The Pawn

“You asked me if he always jumps when she calls. I guess he does.” I feel my jaw tighten and glance away. “There’s nothing romantic between them if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Don’t start lying to me now, Allegra. I’m giving you what you want. You gotta meet me halfway, because this whole truth thing is not a one-way street.”

He’s right. If I want him to be what he was the other night, if I want raw honesty, I need to do the same. “Okay.”

“That’s not so hard, is it? Last night, you never got to tell me what it was you did.”

A weight settles in my stomach. I look at my hand with its bandage and remember my mother’s ring. Remember it’s here in the house.

“Long story,” I lie. It’s not. In fact, it’s a very short one. “What happened to Seth?” I ask instead.

“Deflect. Good one.”

The study door opens as if on cue and Jet and I stare at each other as Cassian returns.

Jet leans toward me. “You’ll have to ask Cassian that question.”

“What question do you have to ask me?” Cassian asks, taking in the scene, the mood. Making me realize how guilty I must look.

I give Jet a glare.

He winks and eats his pasta.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“You know who it was, Allegra. What’s the question you have to ask me?”

Commotion at the front door interrupts us. We all turn.This is different than when Jet came in. This is soldiers and raised voices.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Jet mutters, turning in his seat.

Half a dozen soldiers come into view then, two with huge guns strapped across their chests. Among them, not quite ahead and not quite behind walks a man. I’ve seen him before, and I see the resemblance between him and Jet and I remember.

That’s Severin Blackstone.

He’s the one who put those scars on Jet’s chest and back.

Severin’s furious, and he’s not alone. He’s shoving a man ahead of him, a man who’s clearly been beaten badly. I hear myself gasp when I see his swollen, bruised face.

Severin turns toward us. His eyes narrow on Jet like he’s unsurprised to see him here, but angry about it all the same. But then the beaten man tries to run, and Severin reaches out an arm to grab him, to shove him roughly toward Cassian.

“What the fuck is this?” Cassian asks, looking down at the man who is trying to scramble to his feet. Severin prevents him from rising, though, with a foot on the back of his neck.

“You wanted to know who sent that gun to your nephew.”

Cassian’s expression changes, his forehead furrows.

Severin points down to the man on the floor, gives him a swift kick.

The man grunts.

“How do you know it was him?” Cassian asks.

“Maybe I’m not as nauseated by violence as you like to believe.”

“Did he confess before or after you beat the shit out of him?”