“Nobody nice.”
“Seriously, is Luke doing some kind of deal right now?”
Liam glances over my shoulder. “I’m guessing not the kind of deal you think.”
“What’s that mean? Is my brother selling drugs or not?”
“No, love, your brother doesn’t sell drugs. What kind of guy do you think he is?”
I clench my jaw. I think Luke is clever, charming, outgoing, and brave. I think he’s sweet and deeply kind. I also think he’s desperate for Dad’s approval and willing to do risky, stupid things to show the world that he’s not some soft, spoiled rich kid. Even though that’s what he is.
“What deal then? Don’t tell me this is about our actual job.”
“If I had to guess, it’s guns.”
“Guns?! What the fuck is Luke doing selling guns?!”
Liam looks genuinely confused. “You do know what kind of family he works for, don’t you?”
“Yes, asshole.” I push him lightly, head spinning. “But come on… selling guns…” I feel dizzy and weak. “That’s wild.”
“I don’t lie to you, love. Even if you won’t like the answer.”
“Great. Super great. Amazing. You’re so honest it’s a miracle.”
“Come on.” He gently pulls me away from the alley and back to the gallery door. “We should go inside.”
“Why is Luke selling guns at a charity event for a children’s hospital?”
“Because this is where the rich and powerful tend to congregate, and it’s the rich and powerful who can afford what he’s got.”
Liam steers me back inside. I feel weak and stupid. Why didn’t I know about this sooner? Luke’s been getting progressively shadier over the years, but I never in a million years thought he was aliteral fucking arms dealer, at least according to Liam. How did this happen? My little brother’s involved in a business I don’t know anything about, and here I am thinking I can protect him.
I stop and grip Liam’s forearm tightly. My fingers dig in. “I need you to find out more for me.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Please. I’m begging you.” I look up, fighting off panic and an inch away from failing. “That’s my brother.”
I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the animalistic fear running through me, or maybe Liam’s shit faced from all that bourbon, but he exhales hard and holds up a hand.
“I’ll ask around, alright? That’s the best I can do.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, if you really want to thank me, you can let me take you into the women’s room so I can?—“
“I’m not that thankful.”
“You should be.” He rubs his face with his hand as we step back into the crowd. “I don’t know what’s fucking wrong with me. Agreeing to this shit with you…”
He doesn’t get to complain more. Dad materializes through the crowd. “Did you two have a productive conversation?”
Liam recovers more quickly than I do. “Yes we did, Mr. Corrigan. Your daughter and I seem to be relatively compatible.”
I snort. Dad ignores it. “That’s good to hear. And call me Martin. Since you’ll be my son-in-law shortly, I suppose it’s only normal.”
“Thank you, Marty.”
