“So let me get this straight,” Harrison says, his face completely drained of color. “You’ve decided you’re on our side now that Rouge has decided to fuck you over as well? Only when her bullshit begins to affect you do you grow a conscience?”
Chet twists his lips. “All you need to know, Doctor, is that I am on your side now. My motives ought not be a factor in your decision. I remain your best shot at taking Rouge down.”
“But how can we be sure we trust you?” I ask. “What if that whole story you just told us is a complete fabrication?”
Chet shrugs. “You can’t trust me. But that does not change the fact that you need me.”
I swallow. It’s true. Besides my sister, no one understands the ins and outs of Aces Underground better than Chet. Mr. Rose is probably the third-most helpful, but seeing as he’s currently recovering from a fountain pen to his eye, I doubt he’ll be eager to help us.
“If you need further proof of where my loyalties lie,” Chet continues, “I must point out the slain King currently bleeding out on the bed.”
Harrison swallows. “Right. Him. I’d almost forgotten.”
Chet’s lips twitch. “I believe the two of you are acquainted.”
I widen my eyes. “What?”
Harrison glances toward the body of the man in the bed. “We were friends when we were younger. Got into some bullshit together. Kid stuff.” He scratches at his jaw.
There’s more to this story. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he hates the color green. The man in the head has lime-green highlights in his hair.
But we have bigger fish to fry right now.
“At any rate, Miss Bianca,” Chet says, his grin pasted on his face like the freaking Joker, “I do believe you owe me a favor. You declared as much the night I allowed Dr. O’Rourke into the club. I’m here to collect.”
I frown. “This is hardly the same thing.”
Chet raises his snow-white eyebrows. “You asked me to break your sister’s rules. Now I’m asking the same in kind. Seems like a good trade-off to me. It’s not as if one can qualify favors. One can only quantify them.”
I roll my eyes. More of his fortune-cookie mumbo-jumbo.
“May I say something?” Jack asks.
I turn to him. He’s been silent since the King went down. “Jack, I’m sorry. We’ve been ignoring you.”
He chuckles. “I’m a server at Aces. A male server at that. I’m used to being ignored. It’s when people paid attention to me at the club that I knew I was in trouble.”
I cross over to him, squeeze his hand. “You’re free of them now. We’ve killed the man who was sent to kill you.”
Jack shakes his head. “No. There are three more Kings. And Rouge herself. I don’t think I’ll be safe until all of them are behind bars.” His gaze darkens. “Or better yet, in the ground.” He paces around the room, looks down at the King of Hearts. “At any rate, I’m no longer an employee of Aces Underground. I want to embrace the name I was born with, the name my parents gave me.”
I look over. “What is it?”
He swallows. “It’s Vanya. Vanya Dmitriev.” He runs his hands through his wavy hair. “My God. It’s a name I haven’t spoken for five years.”
I wrap my arms around him. “Nice to meet you, Vanya.”
“We’re going to do everything we can to make sure you can live the rest of your life as your authentic self,” Harrison says.
“You’ll have my help,” Jack—Vanya—says. “I want to take Rouge down just as much as any of you.” He glances toward Chet. “But can we trust him?”
“I have already made my argument that you need not trust me to ally with me,” Chet says. “I hate repeating myself, but I am truly your best shot at taking down Rouge. I still have Tim Mann’s head in my refrigerator in my home. Perhaps that will serve as evidence enough for you all?”
“Christ, no.” Harrison rubs at his forehead. “I don’t think that would convince me anyway.”
I walk up to Harrison, wrap an arm around his waist. “I’m not either, Harrison. But I think Chet makes a good point. And that story was too complex and specific to be a fabrication.”
Harrison darts his gaze over toward Chet. “Not for him it isn’t.”
