“No,” Arsen said.
“No?” Levi asked, frowning. “No, what?”
“No show of force, no sending a message. I want them dead. All of them. From the top to the lowest level fucking runner. All of them. Dead. I don’t care if I go down for it. Ever won’t feel safe until everyone involved is dead.”
Everyone stared at Arsen with varying levels of surprise.
“Killing an entire gang…that’s like fifteen people. You bring the cops into this, that’s a lot of heat. And nobody is going to believe you did it alone.”
Arsen shrugged. “I don’t care. I want them all dead.”
Ever should be more upset, he knew that. Maybe this was just more dissociation, but he didn’t care if they killed everyone. He didn’t care even a little. Arsen was right; he wouldn’t feel safe until he saw their bodies with his own eyes.
He just wanted this over.
All eyes swung to Jericho, who rubbed his palms over his face. “You know what you’re asking for, right?”
Arsen nodded.
Asa clapped his hands once. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m excited. I’m hoping you’ll allow the Mulvaneys to provide the assist? If there’s one thing Avi and I are good at, it’s making a spectacle of a body.”
“It’s practically an art form by now,” Avi agreed.
“Fuck,” Jericho said, looking to Atticus.
Atticus shrugged. “They’re right. Ever’s not going to feel safe until they’ve all been put down. Just like Noah. It’s just going to be a very intricate operation if we’re going to start dropping cops.”
Avi grinned. “Yes. We haven’t had a good slaughter in a long time. It’s time to remind these motherfuckers who they’re messing with.”
Jericho rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Al Capone,” he said, pointing at Asa. “We have to tread lightly. They’re not just your garden variety gangbangers. If the 4Loco crew got back into the trafficking game, there’s more than one cop on the payroll. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be worth the risk. We need to know how far this goes. We can’t kill an entire police department, and this kind of thing only works if we cut off the head of the snake, not the tail.”
He settled a hand on the back of Atticus’s neck like he was trying to soothe him.
Atticus took out his phone and hit a button. “Callie, remember that back burner project? The human trafficking one? Yeah, they just tried to burn down Jericho’s garage. With the kids in it—Yeah. Priority one.” When he noticed the others staring at him with wide eyes, he said, “She’ll have something for us in a few hours.”
“Also,” Felix said when Atticus hung up. “I don’t want to harsh anyone’s murder high, but we’re gonna have to clear this with Papa Mulvaney.”
The twins exchanged a look then smiled at Atticus in a way that gave Ever the creeps. “Call Aiden,” they said in unison.
“If Aiden asks, he won’t say no,” Avi said.
“Yeah, Dad gives him anything he wants,” Asa finished.
“See?” Zane said. “Problem solved.”
Problem solved.Those words echoed in Ever’s head. It was that easy. He just had to survive until then. Maybe by that point, he’d stop feeling so guilty.
* * *
It was noon, but it might as well have been midnight. Truth be told, with the blinds and curtains drawn, it was darker than any room Ever had been in for some time. It was dark like the closet. So dark it would have scared Ever if he wasn’t numb to it—if it wasn’t for the reassuring thumping of Arsen’s heartbeat beneath his ear.
Was it bad that Ever hoped this numb feeling would linger? Jeremiah said therapy often triggered the brain to respond to trauma, and that feeling those emotions was part of the healing process. He wanted to get better. He did. But he was so tired. Tired of having no safe haven, even in sleep. All those things that had never bothered him once he’d gotten out…now they were there in spades—so many triggers he could have marked them off on a checklist. A person’s voice. The smell of someone’s cologne. Slamming doors. Food sizzling in a hot pan. Sometimes, like in his sleep, it was nothing at all. Just memories and blind panic.
But now, hours after a fire had almost killed them and burned down their house, Ever felt…blissfully numb, like someone had given his brain an anesthetic. And he didn’t want the bad stuff to come back, no matter how much better he’d feel eventually. He would keep going to therapy. For Arsen. He’d do anything for him, but he hated it. So much.
They were supposed to be sleeping. It was only about one in the afternoon, but after lunch, Jericho had sent the other boys home and then shooed them off to bed, reminding them they’d been up for hours and would need to be well rested for what was to come.
Arsen hadn’t said much since the meeting. In the shower, he’d washed Ever’s body and hair, had allowed Ever to do the same for him. He’d even toweled him off and helped him dress, all without uttering a single word. It left Ever feeling untethered, like he was bobbing in the ocean, getting farther away from shore.
