Prologue:
He hovered in the doorway to the funeral home, uncertainty causing him to keep one foot out the door. There were many reasons he shouldn’t be here, and yet, Flix had been unable to stay away.
At his back, the sky was raging, heavy sheets of rain pattering on the ground, causing his hackles to rise. There were few things he hated more than rain or getting wet, which meant the weather should have offered another deterrent and kept him home.
Nineteen years old and still unable to control himself.
Flix grimaced, thinking of what Russ would say if he were here.
At his funeral.
It’d been a long time since he’d felt the same connection with Russ as he used to, even longer since he’d fully understood what the other guy was thinking. They never seemed to see eye to eye anymore, especially when it came to Russ’s latest scheme. The only reason Flix had agreed to meet with him at all had been in honor of their past and the guy's younger brother.
But now he was here, dressed in a white suit, attending the death rites of a person he’d known for most of his life…Unsure if he’d even be welcomed.
Fucking Russ.
This was all his fault.
Flix should have listened when Berga warned him, but he’d been stubborn. There were very few people on the planet he was actually nice to, and unfortunately, Russ had fallen into that category.
But no longer. This was it. The final hoorah.
After today—
“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” a sharp voice pulled Flix from his thoughts a second before a tall man around his age stormed down the short hallway toward him.
The actual ceremony was taking place in the main room just beyond that hall, and Flix had only caught sight of the flower arrangements and some of the other mourners from where he’d stopped at the entrance.
Bowser Kita, one of the three founding members of the Shepard gang, shoved him as soon as he was in range. “Well? I asked you a damn question, Brumal!”
Flix allowed the first blow, but when the second came, he latched onto Bowser’s wrist, holding him steady. Of the two of them, he was the strongest here, and it wasn’t just because he was Brumal and had been trained by the mafia his entire life.
Bowser was upset over the loss of his friend.
But Flix was absolutely gutted because he’d given up something far more important.
Bowser had gained a stronger footing within his gang with Russ’s absence.
Flix had more to lose.
“I know you had something to do with this,” Bowser hissed, though his voice lowered and when he yanked himself free he didn’t attempt to hit him again.
“Got any proof?”
“The Brumal attackedusthat day,” he snapped. “There are plenty of witnesses.”
Flix held his ground and simply repeated, “Proof, Bowser? Do you have any? Careful who you go around accusing.”
“Why? You going to off me like you did Russ?” He shook his head, a hint of disgust in his gaze. “He was your friend. I knew the Brumal were cruel, but I didn’t realize you lot were also this disloyal to the people you supposedly care about. Even if you weren’t there that day, even if you didn’t know what was happening, you should have donesomething.”
Only, Flix had been there that day. Eventually, they might even find out. If these witnesses had seen more than they were letting on, he definitely would be. Ideally, this would be settled long before then. All he could do for now was let his people take the blame and stand firm.
That’d been the agreement, after all, and contrary to what Bowser now believed, loyalty was everything to Flix.
“There was an argument, and apparently things got heated.” Flix lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Shit happens.”
“Did you seriously just make a joke about it?” Bowser grabbed him by the collar and shook him. “He suffocated from smoke inhalation, and you’re making jokes?!”
