“But we did,” my frown deepens. “Fuck it up that is.”
“No, Christian.”
That name on his tongue is… strange. It pulls my eyes up to his and I am surprised to see sincerity in his expression, something that looks suspiciously like respect lingers in his eyes, “You didn’t. The whole thing turned into a shitshow, but it was still a success. The money Nash stole was virtually untraceable, but Everett was a greedy bastard. From his phone alone, we were able to recover most of the supplies Nash took from us. There are some amounts we won’t be able to recover now that the feds are swarming the place, but it’s not such a bad turnout.” His shoulders relax, “but of course that also means we won’t be able to recover the men we lost.”
I can sense real sympathy behind his words, which is surprising for a third son of the Don, and my lips purse.
I didn’t get to say goodbye to them properly. I’d had to make a split-second decision to save the Adler Squad’s legacy or let the truths of their deaths die along with them. I didn’t even have any time to drag their bodies out of there before Everett set the whole thing on fire. In hindsight, I suppose it’s a good thing; the real Christian’s body is there… The only reason I’m waking up in a bed and not a torture room is because they haven’t found it.
Still, it hurts that maybe they never will.
“I understand.” My fingers have balled into fists. What’s done is done. I took Christian’s form to avenge his death and the deaths of the members of the Adler Squad. There’s no reason now to keep using his face.
The moment Reuben and Dahlia are out of sight, I’ll shift and disappear from here.
“I disrespected the members of the Taiga family by pulling my gun in your presence without permission.” At least this would give me the opportunity I need to erase the fake Christian I’ve created. “You permitted me to kill Everett… I’m grateful for that. Though I’m not sure why you bandaged me up if you’re going to kill me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rueben’s reply is the last thing I expect and my attention snaps up to him and the way he shrugs his shoulders. “Dahlia clearly gave you permission.”
My brows furrow, “I don’t think that’s—”
“I gave you permission, Christian.” Dahlia’s tone leaves no room for discussion, and her eyes are screaming that I’ll keep my mouth shut this time before Reuben decides to change his mind.
The rules seem to be quite… bendable outside of Syndicate. It’s confusing.
“Enough of that.” Reuben moves along as though the topic of conversation has bored him. “Now the real reason why I’ve barged in here while you’re recovering: I’m staying here for the next few days to write up a report on the events that happened here. But when I go back, I expect to have a shiny, new traitor-killer returning to Seattle with me.”
His eyes are twinkling with a strange excitement as he watches me, but I can’t say I’m… ‘getting what he’s selling’—James to the rescue again.
“Work for me,” Reuben says matter-of-factly.
I blink. Out of the question.
His eyes take on a razor-sharp edge, as though he’s read my mind, and I figure I have all of four seconds or he’s going to rescind his earlier generosity and add another bullet to my chest. I’m trying to formulate words, but my mind is completely blank.
“Is that… an order?” I finally manage to say.
“Does it need to be?” He asks lightly but there’s a razor-sharp edge in his eyes that makes me swallow. I want to say yes, but my intuition is telling me that’s a bad call. Staying silent might be my best option, but as the seconds roll by, the darkness in his eyes becomes even more chaotic.
I’m grasping for anything the real Christian might’ve said in this situation. I can’t go to Seattle or impersonate him any longer. I didn’t take his face and body to take over his life.
“I—I failed to save my own team.” The words rush from me as I find them, “I don't see how anyone would trust me to protect them. Or get a job done. I’m not that guy.”
I’m not Christian. I’m not even human.
“I would trust you.”
Reuben’s lack of hesitation is so unexpected it renders me speechless. The storm in his eyes, and the lawless air around him… strangely, it neither frightens nor intimidates me.
I return his gaze with both curiosity and confusion, “You don’t even know me.”
“Not yet,” He tilts his head, and the barest trace of a smile touches the corners of his lips, hiding a secret. “But I will.”
It sounds like a promise.
He turns his back to leave the room, waving his hand in goodbye, “I expect you all packed and rearing to go in three days—”
He looks back at me, and for a split-second, I feel like I’m looking into the eyes of a tiger and not a person, before he closes the door behind him with a singsong voice—
