“LIAR! Youwerethere. I tracked your phone’s GPS. It had you in the room right when they got shot,” I seethe, leaning forward in an attempt to head butt him. He moves just in time.
“No. I wasn’t,” he hisses back. “Drop the syringe and I’ll explain everything. I promise.”
“And leave myself defenseless? Never.” I refuse to budge.
“Fine, a compromise.” He drops one of his hands and reaches under his sheets, pulling out a revolver. “I’ll give you this gun. The only thing I have here to keep me safe. If you promise to hear me out and not shoot me the second I give it to you.”
With my free hand, I grab the rest of the sheets covering his body and throw them aside, needing proof that he has no other weapon hidden away. Satisfied, I give him a small nod and drop the needle in my hand, replacing it with his gun. I check the cylinder to make sure it's loaded, cock the revolver, andaim it right at his chest. He takes that as his cue to start talking.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I was in Maine when our fathers were killed. We had an inner circle meeting earlier that morning that involved a lot of my dad chastising Aidan for not doing enough, which ended with my brother storming off after saying a few choice words that I know will haunt him forever. I ran after him without realizing whose phone I had grabbed. It wasn’t until I was already in Maine that I realized I didn’t have my own phone. I turned back immediately but at that point it was too late. Cyrus had called me immediately when both of our fathers were shot. But I didn’t get the message since I didn’t have my phone.”
I search his face for a hint of a lie, but all I see is shame. Shame so deep it hurts to look at him without feeling a similar level of guilt and failure. If his story is true, then the geotracker evidence I collected couldn’t be trusted.
He rightly takes my silence as distrust. “You can call anyone you want at our Maine headquarters. They’ll confirm my arrival. So will my security. And so will Cyrus.”
I do just that, calling every single person possible who could confirm Declan’s location on that fateful day. Each alibi confirmed his story. One piece of evidence was tossed out, but I still have others in my arsenal. “What about the poison?”
“Whataboutthe poison?” He raises an eyebrow.
“You visited the old man’s apothecary at least five times by my records. The poisons he sells match the same one poured in my drink.” I had Azula run a test as soon as I got home. The two samples were a perfect match.
Declan blinks. “I guess I should have figured you’ve been following me this whole time. How did you manage to put a tracker on me anyway?”
“Don’t deflect.” I place my finger back on the trigger of the gun.
“Do you really think I was the one who tried to poison you?” He sounds a mix of offended…and hurt. “Did I not just take a fucking bullet for you?”
Rage builds in my stomach at the reminder that the very man I wanted dead up until now had also been the one to save me.
“Thatjusthappened. Up until a few hours ago, I thought I had evidence that you were in the same room as our fathers when they were killed. A record of you dealing with the old man at the apothecary, and over a dozen stories about how power-hungry and sociopathic you can be. Can you blame me for not trusting some man I just met whose reputation more than precedes him?”
“I visited that morbid poison specialist five times with the hope that I could convince him to fess up to who tried to poison you. Or at least who purchased the poison from him. I tried everything. Flatter, threats, bribery, even breaking in. Came out empty-handed each time.”
Oh. He was trying to hunt down the assassin. Because whoever was trying to kill me was likely the same person who had killed our fathers.
“Anything else I did to defend myself about? Given my reputation?” There's a slight edge to his voice as he throws my own words back at me. A part of me wants to retaliate, at least verbally, but I can’t blame him for being upset. I would be, too, if someone had falsely accused me of killing my own blood for a seat on the throne.
“Cyrus has tracked down the women and children of your known enemies. Most of them have been trafficked to either the skin trade or for labor. He’s tied it back to you.” Bile fills my mouth as I get the words out. Even if Declan saved me, Icould never forgive a man who treated innocents like property.
“That’s impossible. Over my dead fucking body would Ieverparticipate in something so atrocious. Whatever information Cyrus found has to be fake. Or doctored.” The heart monitor starts to race again, this time tracking Declan’s rage.
“Or another thing happening behind your back.” I’d never considered the possibility, but between our supplies gone missing and now this…It’s just as plausible a theory as any.
“What evidence does Cyrus have?” Declan bites.
“Besides pictures of the trades happening? Receipts tied to your offshore accounts.”
“My uncle manages all those accounts. Still does. My dad gave Lorkan power to run the Irish Mafia as my second in his will.”
“What? Why?” Everything my father had told me about Declan’s father contradicted him ever trusting Lorkan with his legacy.
“Honestly, fuck if I know. A part of me feels like it’s a final test my father is putting me through to prove myself. I just wish I knew what message I was supposed to take from it.” Declan rolls his eyes. “Regardless, it will all be resolved soon. There’s a…clause I can fulfill that will remove Lorkan’s power.”
I nod. Good. So long as his vile uncle is stopped, the cost doesn’t matter. “Do you really think he could do this, though? Traffic innocent victims?”
“I want to say no. My uncle has many issues, and there have been many times when I wanted to strangle him for his vile mouth, but I never thought he’d be capable of something like this. Is he a pompous dickhead? Sure. That’s a far stretch from being pure evil…” Declan trails off as if trying to convince himself that he believes the words coming from his mouth.
I’d been there before with countless people I’d once consideredallies. Considered friends. Most people manage to disappoint you in the end. If you’re lucky, you realize who will fail you while you’re still alive to cut them out of your life. “People will do unspeakable things for power.”
