“Reid…” Parker begs, a rare show of vulnerability.
Dante stands from the sofa just as Reid takes a furious step toward Parker. I instinctively take a step back, not wanting to be touched, not having the strength to withstand being touched during such an intense moment. The air grows thick with tension, everyone staring at Parker like he’s the one who actually did the murdering. Nobody blinked an eye when I said I killed my uncle, but now everyone is pissed at Parker? I don’t get it. Dante wraps his hand around the back of Reid’s neck and squeezes, making my younger brother close his eyes in what looks very close to relief.
Dipping down to whisper against Reid’s ear, Dante’s words are so soft that nobody but Reid can understand them. Reid’s eyes reopen a moment later after nodding in agreement to whatever Dante said. The tension ratchets down a few degrees when Reid returns to a wingback chair beside the fire, curling up so that his feet are tucked beneath him. Dante sits in front of him, arm thrown over Reid’s lap like an anchor.
“Alrighty, let’s start with you, Parker,” Hayden says, hands on his hips, golden-blond hair messy atop his head. Everytime I see him, he looks exhausted. “The mission Robin had for you tonight was to kill Senator Warton from South Carolina. Did you succeed?”
“Obviously not,” Parker replies, teeth clenched.
“Cool.” Hayden swings his gaze to me. “How did you end up at the Adora Hotel in the depths of downtown Middleton? And what in the world made you kill your uncle?”
“That’s kind of a long story…” I avoid everyone’s gaze to stare down at my shoes.
“We’ve got nothing but time,” Dante calls out from the floor.
Clearing my throat, I’m oddly grateful when Parker moves a few inches over—not close enough to touch, but close enough I can feel the heat of him radiating toward me, a comforting balm.
“It started when I gained custody of Reid. Uncle Marc threatened me. Said that if I didn’t do what he asked, he’d put this really… awful story in the tabloids about us. Make us look depraved, especially after Reid was arrested at seventeen for… Yeah.” I pause and take a deep breath while rubbing my thumb and index finger together. “So I started hacking into political opponents’ computers and finding dirt on them so that he could smear them. That’s all it was ever supposed to be. Just harmless stuff. But then he started asking for me to get Reid to go to campaign events with him to show that he’s, like, got a queer family member. To prove he’s not awful. He said if I did that, he’d wipe away this information he had on Reid. He’d never share the information, but he said a lot of bad people are aware of Reid. That it was going to end up at my front door. That’s exactly what he said.”
“So you killed him?” Hayden presses, eyes narrowed.
“I-I was going to just threaten him.” That’s the truth. Iwasn’t going to kill him. Iwasn’t. “But then he started talking about how he wanted me to hack into sitting US senators and members of Congress to get information on them, ones who aren’t even running for reelection, and I got scared. I realized he was never going to let us fucking go. He was never going to just… fucking let me be. And I’ve lost so much already. I can’t lose Reid too.”
Reid’s watery gaze pings back to me, his face hard. “You killed him because of me.”
“No,” I say with a firm shake of my head, because I’m not getting my point across well. As always. “I killed him so we’d finally be free.”
“Well, now you might end up in prison.” Hayden lifts the heel of his hand to his forehead and lets out a frustrated-sounding breath. “I’ll contact Robin and see if there’s anything we can do for cleanup. I know for sure you weren’t caught on camera leaving, neither of you, and Parker wasn’t caught coming in, but you were probably caught on camera with your uncle if you were at the event. Were you at the damn gala?”
I grimace and nod.
Jacob swears from the sofa. “Holy fuckkkkkk.”
“Can’t… Can’t Robin fix this for us?” Parker asks, a hopeful edge to his voice.
Hayden turns his head to stare outside, then turns back to Parker. “We’ll fucking see. But you already killed that senator a few days ago, so I am afraid we are in serious trouble here. People are going to be suspicious.”
“Oh my god, you killed Senator Martin?” Jacob asks from the couch, eyes wide, body already half risen from the sofa.
Jacob’s movement stops when Hayden lifts a hand in the universal gesture forstop. Why does everyone keep gettingangry at Parker? He’s just doing his job. I turn to stare at him, only to find he’s already looking over at me, that same confused, curious look on his face from earlier. His pale skin, dark green eyes, messy overlong hair, and a small beauty mark on the elegant line of his neck has me transfixed so that I can’t tear my gaze away. Such beauty contains a cost, I guess. I remind myself that although he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, he’s saved me multiple times, he’s also a ruthless killer who has a body count I assume is very high.
“I’m going to step outside and make a phone call.” Hayden points at Jacob when he starts to rise. “By myself. The rest of you just fucking stay out of trouble.”
Hayden flees the room with a black cat hot on his heels. When Hayden steps outside, the cat I briefly met the last time I was here sits at the door forlornly, patiently waiting for their person to come back inside. Cats are nice in theory, but all the germs… I shiver to think about it.
“Scully is very clean,” Reid announces from the chair, seemingly reading my mind. “She’s a good girl. You should pet her.”
“No… No, I don’t think I can. I mean, what if?—”
“All right, Mason.” Reid interrupts me with a long-suffering sigh.
I fight tears at the idea of letting him down again. Squeezing my fingers over my eyes, I take a stuttering breath that hurts a little in my ribs. Maybe that’s my heart. I can’t tell these days. Maybe I have cancer again, or maybe I’m going to have a heart attack. Oh. That pain in my chest is definitely a heart attack. All the stress has given me a blockage and my heart is going?—
“Hey,” Parker says softly.
I blink rapidly and look over to find him staring at meagain, all sharp angles, mouth soft in the approximation of a smile. Oh. My mind quiets when I look at him, like one of those anchors that I find when doing my counting to prevent an anxiety attack.
“Hi,” I whisper, angry at the audible shake in my voice.
