Conversations splintered after that. Diamondbackleft, probably back to the garage. Medusa returned to her table, eyes half-lidded but alert and argued with Cobra over music. India returned to her book, while Raven stayed put, leaning into her personal space with all the subtlety of a cat deciding on if to take a nap or not.
I felt my teeth grind.
Stupid. He’s not yours.
Liberty and Indigo were talking near the back wall, their heads close, voices low. Arizona hovered near them with her camera, capturing angles.
I stayed and slid onto the stool beside him. Not close enough for our arms to touch. Close enough that if anyone reached for that pack, they’d have to get through two of us.
“Liberty says you’re not leaving,” I started.
“For how long?” he asked, fingers circling the rim of his glass.
“Until she hears what she wants from your VP and your Prez,” I said. “Until she knows what exactly is in that bag and how likely it is to get us all killed. Until she decides whether you’re either a liability or an asset.”
“And if she decides I’m a liability?” he asked.
I studied his face. It was strange, seeing so much steel in someone who looked that young around the eyes. He wasn’t young, not really. No one with that many miles in their stare could be. But there was something in his features that hadn’t hardened all the way.
“Then I wouldn’t advise you sleep too deep,” I said. “But I wouldn’t worry about it yet. You seem very attached to whatever you have. That means it’s important, and that makes you valuable. Valuable people live longer. Usually.”
“How comforting,” he replied.
“You want comfort, you picked the wrong clubhouse,” I said.
He took a swallow of whiskey, hand steady. I finished my drink too.
“Liberty wants me on you,” I added. “Her words. Part babysitter, part guard.”
“So, you’re my shadow now?” he questioned.
“Think of it like this,” I said. “If anyone comes to take that bag off you, they’ll have to go through me first. I’m curious what kind of idiot looks at this mess and still decides they want a piece.”
His throat worked once at that, and for half a second his eyes softened. Like he’d thought about me between him and a gun and didn’t hate the idea.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” he said.
“Good,” I replied, sliding off the stool. “Those are the worst kinds of jobs. I’ll consider you a particularly mouthy assignment instead.”
I moved away, half-turning.
“Oh, and Jersey Boy?” I said over my shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“That invisible string you keep pretending isn’t there,” I said. “Cut it. We’re on the sameroad for now, nothing more.”
He didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was only a small grunt of acknowledgement. But I saw something flicker behind his eyes.
You feel it too.
“Like I said. Loud.”
I walked over to Liberty, Indigo, and Rosé. They fell quiet as I approached. Only for a breath.
“You gave him the speech?” asked Liberty.
“Which one?” I replied. “The ‘welcome, don’t fuck this up’ or the ‘Don’t push your luck and I’ll bury you and let God sort out the pieces’?”
