Jax’s eyes widen. "So, what, like the mob?"
My eyes shoot across to Dad as he answers, "Something like that."
I try to control my breathing, having known the truth this whole time. The District is run by the mob. It's a collective secret that no one agreed to keep, but everyone strictly adheres to.Everyoneknows that Jimmy is at the head of the table, but most people in the District respect him. Fear him too.
"And Nerrock is involved?” Blesk presses. Her interest stretches outside of the realm of a concerned girlfriend and into something else—something I don't understand.
"Well, he would deny it. They're just businessmen, Blesk."
Konnor's jaw clenches as he steps toward our dad. "Are you involved with them?”
Dad coughs. "God, no!"
Blesk speaks delicately and apprehensively. "Is my... I mean, the man who took Konnor, was he involved?"
"I don’t know, Blesk."
Jaxon shuffles in place and even though I really like him, I wish he wasn’t here to witness such a private conversation. "Whoa, this is a bit intense. Konnor, you’re a mafia kid."
Konnor tightens. "No, I’m not. I’m a Slater." He claims our name above all else and that makes me yearn to hold him close. He is a Slater and no new information will ever change that.
But right now I need to know for my own aching self, inside and out. "Is Butcher one of them?"
As I imagine Max's eyes turning into slits at the question, my pulse begins to shudder in my throat. I think I want him to know... that I know he's been brought up in this world—as have I, in many ways, with Konnor as my brother.
Konnor glares at me. "Cassidy, why? Why would it matter?”
Evading his eyes, I stare straight ahead at my dad. "Just wondering. Flick hangs out with them a lot now.”
Konnor steps in front of me and I crane my neck to look up at him. "You’re lying," he states. "Why do you care about The Butcher Boys? Why is that name even coming up?"
I feign indifference. "They're our friends, Konnor. That’s all."
"Oh, so now they’reourfriends? Not just Flick’s friends anymore?"
Blesk touches his arm and pleads, "Konnor."
"Son, what is your qualm with them?" Dad asks. "Do you know something I don’t?"
Konnor eyeballs me before glancing across to Dad. "Don’t like them, that’s all. I don’t want Cassidy hanging out with them."
I snort. He's not even here most of the time and he's barking orders at me? “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not five anymore and can do what I fricking like.”
“Cassidy, calm down." Dad tries to settle me with his gentle tone. “Your brother just worries."
My brows weave. “Great, now I have a restriction on friends."
I don't know why I'm getting so worked up by this. I guess I'm just sick of being treated like a child. By Konnor. By Max.
“You’re acting like a brat, Cassidy," Konnor spits out.
"I’m acting like an eighteen-year-old girl who is being interrogated by her brother because she has ‘boys’ who are friends. Can you be more of a cliché? I bet you wish I was gay like Flick."
"Not boys, Cassidy," he says. "Butcher boys."
My dad intervenes. "We are digressing. These aren’t conversations we should be having. Nor are they necessary. Luca Butcher’s sons are not the issue here and you’re not in any kind of danger. This should go without saying, but this is Konnor’s business. None of this can leave this room. Konnor, if you want to make arrangements to discuss this further with other parties, then you can, but it should be discussed here, with me, first. I can’t stress this enough. Everything I’ve done, all the truths I’ve withheld, have been for you. Promise me you won’t go ruffling feathers. Okay?”
Konnor slowly nods. "Does Nerrock know? Does he know where I am?"
