“To relieve you. You get six hours down. Sleep, shower, and be ready to become our Doctor Mayet’s shadow. She tends to forget to eat, so steer her toward sustenance as often as you can. From a professional distance,” he adds, his words a biting crack. “Don’t slip, Harrison. I like having you on the team.”
“Yes, Boss.” I glance to the right as the air changes. The door downstairs opens. Closes. And then silence. Which tells me everything I need to know. “I believe Stovic just walked in. I’ll keep you updated on the situation every step of the way.”
“Good.” Just like his brother, he ends our call without saying goodbye. And twenty seconds later,mybrother—biologically—crests the top step and comes into view.
He remains entirely focused, hard, stony-faced, and fierce. But at my lifted chin, he relaxes and meanders closer.
“Hey.” He comes to a stop on my right, his shoulder brushing mine, and his eyes swing to Doctor Mayet’s door. “I’m here to relieve you.”
“Yeah. I just finished talking to Felix. He said you were on your way.” I bring my gaze around and up to my six-inches-taller-than-me brother. Same mother, different fathers. The genes coming through his paternal side were clearly more blessed in the height department than mine. “You’re going back to New York tomorrow.”
His jaw tightens. Hardens. “You’re not?”
“I’m gonna stay for a bit.” Finally, I allow a small smile to wrinkle my lips. “Kinda care the good doctor doesn’t get herself killed while she’s pissing everyone off.”
“You’ll be careful?”
His concern makes my stomach jump. His fiery need to protect me, the same inferno I witness amongst the Malones every single day.
It’s why my loyalties persist, even when my employers lack phone manners.
“I’m on driving duty. And in the halls. The only danger I face will be from Mayet herself when she decides she no longer wants me around. She’s got a temper on her.”
He chuckles, dropping his gaze and brushing a hand over his curved lips. It’s a habit we long ago created. “Death by a Malone wife is still death. I’d rather you didn’t die, no matter who’s responsible for the final blow.” He peeks across and down. “Be careful. My mother will kill me if she finds out I let you die.”
“Mymother,” I snicker. “She likes me more than she likes you. And don’t worry about Mayet. Her heart is usually in the right place.”
“She slit Agosti’s wrists,” he murmurs, barely more than a whisper tapping my eardrums. Quiet, because we don’t need more witnesses to Chief Mayet’s misdeeds. But also, because we don’t want the boss to know we’re talking about her. “Heart or not, she’s lethal. And now she’s at odds with the Malones.” He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes flickering toward the door. “I know your stupid ass wasn’t ordered to stay on the front line, Theodore. Youvolunteered. So if you die, Mom will destroy me. It’s her birthday soon. Don’t fuck it up.”
“I’ve got it under control, I promise. I wanna see this through.” Breaking my rigid stance and taking a step forward, I circle around and face him head-on. “I’m going downstairs. Probably sleep in the old man’s apartment, since he’s at the house. I’ll be back at six to relieve you.” I offer my fist and breathe a little easier when he bumps it in response. “She’s not a high-risk target. It’s not like riding with Lix. She’s just an ornery doctor who prefers to be alone, which means the next six hours of your life are about to rot your brain.”
“Better to rot than to zig when I should’ve zagged.” He settles onto his heels and smirks. “Rest up, baby brother. I’ve got her till you’re back.”
MINKA
Ilay in my bed and watch the clock crawl torturously slowly toward a new day.
Six-oh-one.
Six-oh-two.
Six-oh-three.
Sweat makes my skin tacky, and my sheets, sticky. There’s no cross-breeze in this apartment unless I leave my bedroom window, bedroom door, and living room window open, and even those measures work only when there’s a breeze outside. There rarely is, considering the long line of buildings making up a street equal parts residential andnot.
Six-oh-four.
Six-oh-five.
Six-oh-six.
I count every lift of my chest. Every exhalation of hot, humid air. My brain obsesses on an annoying edge of my toenail, the pointy corner catching on mysheets until I’m marched to the brink of insanity, and since my knee is still healing, the small scabs left behind after the removal of a dozen stitches mean my sheet catches on those, too.
Six-oh-seven.
Six-oh-eight.
“Fuck.” I sit up with a groaning sigh, my belly exposed beneath my sweaty sports bra and my legs bare under a pair of Archer’s silky boxer shorts. Glancing to his side of the bed, I glower at how utterly undisturbed it is. His pillow, untouched. His sheets are crisp and flat. Anger burns in my stomach because I can’t help but feel like he set me up for this.
