Page 101 of Guilty as Sin

“To talk to our guard. I know this one, he’s cool.”

“No, he’s not cool.” Connor leaps off the couch. Like me, he hasn’t enjoyed the fact that we’ve been under surveillance, but we’ve both recognized that having a guard is a useful thing, given Seven’s penchant for retaliation. “I’m coming with you.”

My brother stomps his feet into his sneakers, crushing down the back heels. I sigh, because I bought him those shoes, and with my relatively meager income from the clinic. Just like I bought him the new jacket he needed, the shampoo he uses, the food we eat.

Over the past weeks, our relationship has gained a new balance, since Connor’s taken responsibility for the housework, which apparently includes making sure that I have breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

We’re taking care of each other now.

So I don’t protest about my brother coming with me to talk to Pete, but I remind him to keep his mouth shut.

As soon as we step outside, I regret not putting on a jacket. It’s fully fall now, with the leaves beginning to turn and the nights coming earlier. I suck it up and cross my arms tight against the cold.

When we approach Pete in the darkened alleyway, he doesn’t make any attempt to avoid us. He even returns my hello, although it’s a little stiff.

“Are you allowed to talk to me?” I ask.

“Only if you approach me first.” He glances at Connor over my shoulder, who probably isn’t included in the list of people he can talk to. I decide to pretend my brother isn’t here.

“What are you allowed to tell me?”

When Pete doesn’t answer, I hand him the paperboard container of egg rolls. Skeptically, he opens it, and the fried smell wafts out.

“Blatant bribery,” he says, but he keeps the box. “What do you want to know?”

“Is Brady safe?” I ask. Behind me, Connor makes a small noise of disgust.

“Safe as he can be,” Pete says, and I let out a slow exhale.

“Everyone else?” I ask. But Pete doesn’t answer, so I try again. “Orla and Kieran?”

“Safe.”

“Gloria?” I ask.

Pete flinches at his daughter’s name. He knows as well as I do that his work puts Gloria in danger too, even if it’s not as grave as it is for the O’Sullivan family members.

“With her mother,” he says. “Out of the city.”

I want to ask more, but I’m clearly making Pete uncomfortable by pushing the limits of what he’s allowed to discuss. My brother’s presence isn’t helping, so I bid Pete goodnight.

Connor huffs and grumbles wordlessly behind me.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks as soon as we’re back in the apartment. He kicks off his busted shoes to plop back down on the couch.

“They’re just egg rolls,” I say. “I’ll buy you more. Or you could get a job and buy some yourself.”

“I’m not qualified for anything legal.” It’s what he says every time I bring up his unemployment. “And I’m not talking about the frickin’ egg rolls.”

“Then why are you so upset? I told you Pete was cool, and he was.”

“Yeah, and the first thing you asked him about was Brady.” Connor folds his arms as he glares up at me.

I’m so taken aback that I turn away, stalling by opening the fridge. I take my time as I grab two bottles of beer, pop off the caps, and bring one to Connor. Another act of blatant bribery.

I flop down on the couch beside him, lacking the pain tolerance for this conversation. Every time I think about Brady, my heart squeezes like it’s being crushed in a vice rigged with spikes.

“He’s my husband,” I say, my throat thick on the word. “His well-being directly affects our arranged marriage. If I become a widow, I need to know about it.”