His probing gaze is trying to pull the information out of me. I don’t let up. Not when I know Kate’s listening to our every word.
Carter’s mouth pulls up at the corners. “You’re losing your edge, deartháir.” I know he’s serious when he calls me brother like that.
My father and I only speak Gaelic when it's necessary—when words need to be exchanged between us in public. Carter may not have Irish blood, but he made it his duty to learn the language to prove his loyalty and dedication, after Arden gave him a roof over his head and a financial status most would kill for.
The artery in my chest jumps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mhmm.Then I’m sure you won't mind if I suggest we solve this little issue in the morning when the boats head out. I mean, you do remember what happened the last time a park employee found themselves in the tunnels?”
The reminder screws and twists into my abdomen, leaving behind an excruciating burn that claws at my flesh. Besides my mom and sisters’ hearts arriving in that box, the second worst day of my life was when I fed that fresh twenty-something boy to the sea. He was unconscious, but it doesn’t make up for my wrongdoings or my guilt. It has fucking eaten me alive for the last ten years.
I watched the waves devour him.
Pull him under, along with the weight attached to his feet.
Whatever remaining humanity I had left disappeared with him.
But that night, when I was at a low that felt unescapable, Tayla was there. There was no hiding the all-consuming shame rotting me from the inside out. My sister sat with me on the rocky shoreline below our estate and didn’t need to say a word. She rested her head on my shoulder, her dark waves cascading over my arm, and just existed with me when I wished that I didn’t.
It’s peculiar that even the purest love in the world still finds beauty in the things that are broken.
The moment I tossed him over the side of the boat, the remorse weaved like invasive vines through my conscience. There was no going back on my decision. His body found its final home one thousand feet under the sea, and I’ll be damned if Kate joins the skeletons I keep buried.
But if she is working with the Calco Cartel, the man responsible for the bloodshed on my family, drowning her would be too kind.
That thought still doesn’t stop his name from tasting bitter in my mouth at the suggestion. “Carter,” I warn.
Out of the corner of my eye, Kate is still gazing out the window. It’s the same view of the yard I have with the ocean beyond. There are spotlights at the edges of the grass, illuminating the trees on the forest’s edge. The garden maze in the distance glows with those twinkling lights, inviting and warm.
“You do realize a month is plenty of time for her to learn things,” he whispers. “And if she isn’t involved with Luciano—if he’s even the one behind these missing shipments, you plan to just let her go? Let her disappear with the knowledge of what the Megalley Syndicate is capable of? There are enough rumorsas it is floating around Lachlan Harbor from those attacks and murders that happened in the park.”
Fuck, I need a drink.
It's almost one a.m., and I’m too tired to make any rational decisions.
The only thing I’m certain of is that I need to keep track of her when she doesn’t think I’m watching. The security cameras littered throughout the estate aren’t enough. If tonight is any indication, there are flaws in our system.
Lifting a hand to my temple, I rub in a circular motion—a pathetic attempt to clear the turmoil. “I need to see Arden. Can you keep a post outside her door until tomorrow morning?”
“What about the balcony?”
Goddammit. Visiting the tech room will have to happen tonight.
Unease tightens my muscles. “Fine. Stay in the room with her.” The words taste sour, but at least there is an en suite for her to use. I make a mental note to tell Gretta to go shopping for some clothes to fill her closet.
Stepping away from Carter, my eyes are drawn to those steadfast green pools glaring at me from the other side of the room. Our eyes remain locked the entire time until I’m boring a hole through the door after I shut it.
Walking down the hall to the grand foyer with a spiral staircase, I remove my jacket as I ascend the steps to the third floor. The hallway is dark, except for the glowing strip coming from beneath my father’s office door. My knuckles rap on it a few times before his deep voice tells me to enter. When I open the door, he’s lounging comfortably in his desk chair, his back turned to me as he gazes out at the blanket of night encasing the estate. His hand lifts, bringing his tumbler of scotch to his lips.
His office, with its dark wood accents and deep greens, is as intimidating as it is inviting. It’s somewhere in between.
Silence passes between us, and I’m sure he knows I need a drink before I tell him about my day, just like we do most nights, since we are both shit at sleeping. I approach the wet bar, roll up my sleeves, and notice my red-stained hands that I still haven’t cleaned. It’s not like cleansing them would wipe my soul.
The damage is done.
The amber liquid flows into the glass. I take a sip before sinking into one of the chairs across from his desk. It’s that kind of night.
Dad slowly turns around, his tired eyes hitting me with a war that rarely ever shows on the outside, unless we’re dealing with business.
