Stacey nods. "Max isn't dumb, Cassidy."
I wince. "He's just doing as he's told then? He doesn't actually..." My voice breaks. "Like me?"
"Of course he does. None of this was in play until Max hit that cop, dragged you out of the waterpark, and drove you home. That's so uncharacteristic of him. He's a lot morecareful than that. One of Jimmy's men saw and well, Jimmy rubbed his hands together. You were invited to dance at the wedding after that, right?"
"Yes," I whisper. "I got the call the day after. But he approached me days before that."
"Yes. He likes ballet. He likes you; this is all true. But he wouldn’t have invited you here if it wasn't for Max."
Flick hugs my shoulder. "How do you know all this?"
"Jimmy told me. Very casually. He said he thinks you'd make a beautiful couple and he wants to see Max happy. He asked me to invite Flick so that you'd feel comfortable."
I breathe out steadily. "That all sounds kinda nice, though."
"Yeah. But I know what that really means. You're an asset. Leverage. This is what they do. It's the long game. It doesn't look that bad at first, which is how you miss it. It's a favour. It's a kindness. It's asponsorship. But then they have claws in every part of your life and one day, you sit up and you wonder how you'd gotten in so deep..." Stacey's voice stammers and her eyes drop to the ground. After several long moments of thick, tangible silence, she breathes out and looks up at us again. "Now you know. Keep your mouths shut. Behave. Do not tell anyone what I've just said unless you wantmeto go missing."
I tilt my head and bounce my gaze around nervously. "That's a bit of an exaggeration..."
Stacey's lips tighten. "People go missing in the District all the time, Cassidy. It has the highest missing persons rate in the country."
"Yeah, but?—"
"But what? You want to be Max's right-hand girl? Then you should know. My advice is to remember what they are capable of."
I cuddle myself and Flick squeezes my shoulder tighter. "The boys are good guys though," I state.
"I love them more than life," Stacey admits. "They are my family, but Max has never allowed anyone to get close before and he definitely doesn't fetch drinks like a Labrador."
"You think they're good guys though, right?" I repeat.
She sighs. "I love them. Butno. I wouldn't use the wordgood."
Heat builds in my head. "You know nothing about Max!"
She feeds a tremoring hand through her hair before leaning in until I can feel her breath on my cheek. "I've seenyourboyfriend stomp on a guy's head. I've seen Bronson smash a glass on the bar and then shove it into someone's neck. Xander's climbed through my window, covered in blood, and has cried in my arms more times than I can count. I've seen Butch kill... I've seen a lot. And that's just surface stuff."
Every fibre in my being wants to defend Max and his brothers, but there is a part of me that's known this for a while. When Max hit Luke and saw no repercussions, I knew then that he... I shake my head.
"Max is a good person."
Stacey doesn't respond, but her eyes say it all. Turning, she continues toward the church, where we find a seat at the back on the groom's side. Butch is already in the front row with Victoria, who is peering around with a tight smile.
Nestled against the flower garlands that run the entire length of our pew, I stare at my pink nails, trying to process everything Stacey had said.
At first, I consider grabbing Flick and leaving, refusing to be used against Max, but then I realise we can't. Max would want to know why I'd left and then Stacey might get into some kind of trouble.
Confusion and uneasiness crash together inside me. I'm not sure how I feel about Jimmy now, and Stacey has seen Max stomp on someone's head... No. I can't even picture that. It's too unfathomable to visualise.
I'm yearning for Max to hold me and tell me it'll be fine. That this doesn't change anything. That he's agoodguy who happens to have done some bad things. My stomach rolls. The moment I'd accepted that gun, I'd accepted his lifestyle. The Ballerina and The Gangster. What a pair we make.
My breath catches when Max passes our pew with the other groomsmen. His eyes bounce over me with hardly a second of recognition. I'm both glad and disappointed. Glad he can't see the confusion in my eyes. Disappointed he didn't reassure me with his. The groomsmen head straight down the red-carpeted aisle, moving towards the front of the church. Along the way, they stop to kiss numerous people on the cheek and share a few words with them in what I can only presume is Italian.
Oh my God.I didn’t even know Max spoke Italian.
The boys don'tlookItalian... Maybe Butch, but only slightly.
They stand at the front and a conveyor belt of guests come up after them, all requesting kisses and sharing words. Max grins through all of it, his single dimple on show for everyone to fall in love with. I roll my eyes at all the girls touching his arm and leaning in far closer than they need to.
