Chapter 28 Tanks and Glass Cannons
Tanks and Glass Cannons
Lucia had to resist the urge to reach out to Penelope as they sat side by side on the stiff leather couch in Francesca’s study, the air heavy with unsaid things and the sharp scent of espresso.
Penelope had just shared all the evidence she’d uncovered—what she’d suspected her father’s role to be, and the potential issue with the Meridian.
“They have no evidence. My sensor loop was flawless, and it’s not uncommon for an error to affect just one piece. Maybe your boss is antsy because donors can make life miserable,” Jules said, shifting in the armchair with a restless bounce of her knee.
“Still, you should keep an eye on her. Calling her bluff was a good offense. I agree with Jules. If they had any real evidence, they’d have done something about it aside from calling you to the principal for questioning,” Lucia said, arms folded, trying to mask her unease.
“Belgrave’s just another of Varnelli’s puppets.
But Whitfield and Lewis? They’re new,” Francesca said.
“Although it doesn’t surprise me. Varnelli is dangerous—not because she employs insiders.
In fact, she doesn’t need moles. She has leverage.
People in the museum, on the board—she helped them once, or threatened them twice.
Either way, they still talk.” Her voice rang low and precise as she stood by the fireplace, absently turning a small glass sculpture between her fingers.
“The most important question, though: What does this mean for you moving forward?”
Penelope held Francesca’s gaze. “I’m out. I went after Valentina to… I thought she’d hurt my father—my family. Turns out, he may have helped her, and so… What’s left?”
“What about the truth? The whole story?” Lucia asked. How could Penelope just give up like that?
“I doubt Valentina is going to tell me, and my father won’t talk. So, whatever happened or why…” She shook her head. “I’ll never know.”
“How unexpectedly pessimistic,” Francesca said. “Although I respect your decision to stop now.” She turned toward Lucia. “What about you?”
“What are you talking about?” Skye interjected, perched cross-legged on the edge of the window seat, her voice sharp with disbelief. “Just because they’re shacked up doesn’t mean Lucia will leave us.”
Francesca ignored her, gaze steady on Lucia.
Lucia dropped her gaze, heart knocking uncomfortably. It still boggled her mind that Francesca meant it, that she’d not try to convince her to stay. She’d expected a fight, a guilt trip. Instead, Francesca let her go with terrifying ease.
Did she want Francesca to talk her out of it? Maybe. Starting over seemed daunting but also exhilarating. A new adventure, though maybe she wasn’t cut out for it. Still… She had to try.
“I’ll help with getting the Madonna back, but then I’m out, too.”
“What the fuck, Lucia? This is on you!” Skye pointed at Penelope.
“Leave her out of this! It has nothing to do with Penelope.”
“Right,” Skye muttered, crossing her arms.
“Besides, I’d think you’d be happy to see the back of me,” Lucia said.
“Whatever.” Her glare slid to the floor, and she blinked rapidly.
Lucia’s brows furrowed. Something was off here. This was more than anger. Skye seemed brittle.
“I appreciate it, Lucy, as we need your help in this. I’ve been discussing the situation with Jules, and—”
“So you’ll just let her go?” Skye asked.
Francesca’s gaze turned dark as she faced Skye. “This is enough. We are not a prison, Skye. Everyone is free to leave if they wish.”
“But—”
“No! Besides,” Francesca looked at Lucia, “Lucy won’t leave the family, just the business. Am I right?”
“Of course.”
“Now, let’s focus on my plan to steal the Madonna right back.”
She stepped toward the table, spreading out a marked-up floor plan with deliberate precision, the shift in energy unmistakable—back to strategy, back to control.
~ ~ ~
After the meeting, Lucia set to walk Penelope back to her car, angling for an invite to spend the evening together.
She’d missed her terribly, more than she should, considering they’d only just seen each other.
It was hard to believe they hadn’t even known each other for very long—yet sometimes, it felt like she’d known Penelope for years.
Unsettling, if she were to dwell on it, which she didn’t. But it was true.
They were chatting in hushed tones and heading toward the front door when Skye’s voice rang out behind them.
Lucia turned.
“That’s it? You’re just done with us?” Her chest heaved.
She sighed. “It’s not that simple.”
“Sounds like it to me.”
Penelope leaned closer, whispering, “Maybe talk to her? Clear the air.”
“But—”
“Come by after? I’m home.”
A smile spread over Lucia’s lips. She nodded. “Drive carefully.”
Penelope squeezed Lucia’s upper arm and left.
When the door fell shut and Lucia turned fully, she rolled her eyes at Skye mimicking gagging.
“Really?”
“You’re insufferable together. Someone could die of DKA watching you.”
“Right. So?”
“What? Suddenly you wanna talk because your girlfriend told you to? That’s pathetic. Aren’t you just replacing whose orders you’re following? From surrogate mommy to…” She tilted her head. “What is she to you, Gracie? I suppose sugar mommy is a thing, no?”
Lucia crossed the space in a heartbeat. “My name is Lucia, and what the fuck is wrong with you?” she snarled.
“This isn’t about me and Penelope! You’ve been awful to me for months, then it got a bit better during the heist, and now you just had a tantrum over me leaving only to turn around and insult me. ”
Skye looked at the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too bad. Spill it, Skylar.”
Skye’s head snapped up, and her eyes widened. “You don’t care anyway.”
“Why the fuck would I be asking?”
Skye chewed at her lower lip. She sighed, looking away. “I… Fine. I did one of those ancestry things a few months ago.”
“Oh.” Lucia almost wished Skye would stop talking. Looking into the past always made you bleed.
“Should’ve known better than try and figure out who abandoned a crack baby in a condemned building, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Whatever,” Skye grumbled.
“What happened?”
Skye shrugged. “I thought I might find a cousin or a sibling. I wasn’t even… I didn’t think she’d still be alive.”
Lucia suppressed a sigh. “Your mother.”
“She’s not my mother!”
“Of course not. Sorry.”
Skye shook her head. “I was stupid. I just… I was so surprised, and I reached out. I actually contacted her.”
“I take it that didn’t go well.”
“No. She said she’d only disappoint me, that she’d have disappointed me if she’d kept me and still would.”
“That’s rough.”
“I…I wrote her a letter after that. Can you believe it? An actual fucking letter.” She scoffed. “I don’t know why but I just, I had all these thoughts.” She slapped her head. “And I couldn’t stop them from bleeding onto the page.”
Skye wiped her face. “She told me to get lost and never contact her again.”
“I’m sorry, Skylar.”
Skye nodded, sniffing. “It’s whatever.”
A pause.
“I guess it made me more irritated in general and you…you took the brunt of it.”
“Why me? I mean, sure, I get that you were more irritated overall, but—”
“I don’t know. After we’d broken up, we mostly got along, right? I mean, we were never serious anyway, and it’s been so long ago. I don’t want you back or anything. And I’m not jealous of you and Blackwell.” She paused. “Though she’s hot.”
Lucia grinned. “That she is.”
“It just, it seems so easy for people to…leave me.” Her voice dropped at the end.
Lucia grabbed her hand and squeezed. “None of that is your fault or on you.”
“Right.”
“I’m serious.”
“Anyway. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used you as a tank, even if you can soak up more damage than anyone else I know.”
“A tank?”
“You know, in one of those role-playing games where you have a party of heroes to fight?”
Lucia only blinked.
“God, you’re hopeless.” Skye chuckled, but this time, her tone was almost affectionate.
“OK, like usually there are four or five: a mage, a warrior, a healer, an assassin, and so on. There’s also always one character who stands in front and takes all the incoming heat.
The tank, or the protector. Their health stat is usually the highest, and they can take it, more than the others can, anyway. ”
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Lucia said. “Aside from, ‘Do tanks regenerate, or do they eventually run out of…tankiness?’”
Skye huffed a laugh. “You’re ridiculous. I mean, it depends on the battle. During some, the stats all reset, but sometimes it’s cumulative. That’s why you always need some kind of healer in your group.”
“Huh, OK.”
“And Blackwell? She’s a glass cannon. Hits hard, but one wrong push and she’ll crack. Remember how she said she wasn’t doing anything criminal? She burns bright, sure, but she’s fragile when it comes to the dirt we live in. You gotta watch out there.”
“Noted,” Lucia drawled.
Skye dragged her foot along the floor. “Anyway, it wasn’t fair. I’m truly sorry.”
“It’s OK. I get it. That was a lot, but yeah, I’d appreciate it if I no longer acted as your tank.” She reached out again, once more grasping Skye’s hand. “But you can come talk to me, OK? I’m not going to abandon you, Skylar.”
Skye ducked her head. “Thanks,” she croaked.
“Come here, you idiot.” Lucia pulled her in for a hug.
Skye clutched her closer as Lucia’s neck grew damp.
As she held Skye, Lucia wondered if she had ever encountered a healer in her life.
On her way back to her car, her mind drifted to what else Skye had said: Penelope as a glass cannon.
Huh. Surely there had to be information online about this class of…whatever Skye had called them. Hero? Character? She should look it up sometime.