I rip the bottom of my pants on my non-injured leg, tearing the blood-flecked fabric apart and wrapping the wound tight, applying as much pressure as I can stand but not making a tourniquet. If I can’t stop the bleeding, things are going to get worse, and a tourniquet is the absolute last resort.
Bandage tied tight, I survey the mess I’ve made. My blood is all over the place out here. Evidence of what happened is everywhere.
I’m worried, despite the time of day and year, about someone coming back and finding the corpses...If there’s no body, then there’sno crime, right?
Yeah, I’m more worried about that than getting stopped by a cop who isn’t on our payroll.I don’t know who I can trust. Who knows where the coup ends?
It’ll be agonizing getting the bodies into the van, but a double-murder charge is a hell of a lot harder to make go away than bodies are.
22
LETICIA
STOOD UP, PARTY OF 1
It’s beentwo and a half hours. I ate my food in silence, and now I’m moping rather than putting my room back together.
I can’t believe he joked about me standing him up for a date and then did so to me.
I’m pathetic. The first guy who made me feel something, I let him into my head and my life, and at the first opportunity, he bolts.
Worst of all? I texted Toni for at least someone to talk to, and she hasn’t responded.
No, scratch that. Not the worst of all. Worst of all is that I still have to do Christmas with the Cavanaghs. That is, if Christmas still happens. Maybe I get uninvited. If I don’t though... how embarrassing will this be? Maybe I’ll get lucky and Royal won’t be there. I won’t have to look at his face and give him a gift.Do I even give him the gift still?
I don’t have to look to know the matching microphone blankets, part of a 1950s-themed collection from a chic boutique, are still there. I guess I could just return those. Won’t need late-night talk-show host blankets since —
What if something happened to him?
I’d been so busy wallowing in self-pity that I didn’t even think of it. Maybe he can’t text me back because something bad is happening. We’ve been so adamant about not talking about work and ourfamilies that it’s been so easy to forget — Royal is Irish Mob. He could be hurt or worse.
Guilt and worry feel like two stones battling for place in my stomach.
How could I be so dense?
I pick up my phone and see the three pointedly worded messages from when I thought he was standing me up.
More politely, I send:
Leticia:
Proof of life. At least let me know something bad didn’t happen to you?
23
ROYAL
COST OF CIVIL WAR
It took almostan hour for me to get the bodies in the car. The pain in my leg fought against the adrenaline and anxiety as it made its way through my system. But, in the process, I found the keys, so I didn’t have to hot-wire the ancient van. Though it would have been good practice.
“Royal.” Dad meets me in the driveway of Valor’s house.
“Dad.” I shove open the driver’s door with a wince. “I’m probably going to fall out and look really stupid. Could you turn around so you don’t have to watch?”
“What happened?” Dad rushes over and opens the door as wide as it goes. He brings his hand up to cover his mouth. “You’re bleeding.”
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you get shot.” I nod.
