“I won’t let it happen,” I growl.
“It will have its heir,” he says. “One way or another.”
He looks past me, his gaze distant. “Your grandmother,” he says, his voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it. “She couldn’t have children. We both knew it. It was a fact, a clean, unfortunate fact that suited our lives just fine. I was building an empire. She was running the social circuit, planning galas and beingphotographed for magazines. A family was a complication neither of us wanted.”
He gives a dry laugh. “But you know how it is. Too many late nights. A few too many drinks at the Redline. A mistake. A girl shows up at my door one day, pregnant. Claiming it was mine. I told her to get rid of it. I paid her to disappear.”
He pauses, his eyes focusing on something only he can see. “I tried to shut it down. But then… the voice came. Telling me it was mine. That it was meant to be. I tried to ignore it. Two months go by and I think it’s over. Then the girl comes back. This time, she doesn’t come to me. She goes to your grandmother.”
He looks at me, his eyes cold and clear. “The girl said she couldn’t keep it. Before I knew what was happening, your grandmother was decorating a bedroom for your father. Saying it was a miracle. A gift.” He scoffs. “The Pit doesn’t take no for an answer. It just finds a different way in.”
I shake my head. “But my father isn’t controlled by it. Neither are you. You both live normal lives.”
He ticks his tongue. “How it manipulates us is different. It knows the best and worst in each of us, but make no mistake.” He gestures toward the skyline, a king showing off his kingdom. “We are all working for it. A St. Clair will always serve the Pit. And in return…” His eyes shine faintly in the low light. “We get to run the city that runs us.”
I look at my hand.
“I told you before,” he says quietly. “Don’t criticize choices you never had to make.”
“Oh, I made my choice,” I say, my voice tight with pissed-off energy. “I know exactly how far I’ll go for her.”
His eyebrow lifts.
“And this city?” I add. “It’s counting on it.”
For a moment something almost like approval crosses his face. “Then you of all people,” he says softly, “should understand the man who made the first bargain.”
He turns back toward the window, dismissing me.
“What are you looking at?” I ask infuriated.
He doesn’t answer right away, just stares down at the harbor.
“Important shipment.”
“You run the fucking drugs?”
He smiles faintly. “Someone has to.”
I wrench the door open, slamming it so hard the frame shudders.
Fucking fuck of all fucks.
Sixty-Six
THEN | SISK
Ishould definitely turn back. Yep. This is a bad decision. No, this is a stupid terrible decision.
The door to the bar is half open and I push the rest of the way before I can talk myself out of it.
“Hey,” I say, aiming for casual and landing somewhere near a mouse squeak.
Inside, something crashes. Jax jerks upright from behind the bar, knocking a wrench off the counter. It clatters loudly against the floor. He whips around, his eyes wide and wild. “Pitfire?—”
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, his voice rough, still laced with shock.
