55. Daren
Chapter 55
Daren
I almost stumbled over my own feet when I saw Bellamy’s roommate Vince standing in the middle of the living room, red-faced but otherwise unbothered. I was quick to regain my composure, coming to stand beside Fletcher as if there was no unease between us, no rift, no disagreement. Folding my arms in front of my chest, I tipped my head back to angle my chin up, giving myself as much height as I could manage. Fletcher let out a low and pleased-sounding hum after I took my place on his right, but my solidarity was a job. It didn’t change anything between us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Looking for my roommate,” Vince answered with a smirk.
“I told you the day I took him that he was our roommate now.”
Fletcher shifted the angle of his head, and there was enough question in it that I knew he was simmering I hadn’t mentioned Vince in any major detail. But when I’d met him, he hadn’t felt important at all. Hardly worth a thought, let alone a mention.
“This is Vince Angelini,” Fletcher murmured.
I immediately recognized the name. “Isn’t that curious.”
“Isn’t it?” Vince mused, smoothing a stray lock of hair back into place.
“I don’t have any business with you,” Vince said to Fletcher. “I just need to know where Bellamy is.”
“Do you have business with my father?” Fletcher asked.
Vince narrowed his eyes.
Fletcher licked his lips, rubbing the side of his finger across his nose with a disgusted-sounding sniff.
“I should have known,” he said, turning away from Vince and stalking into the kitchen.
Vince eyed him, then looked to me. Fletcher had just put something together, but he wasn’t going to share, at least not right away. Whether that was because he didn’t trust Vince or didn’t trust me, I wasn’t certain. I hated the thought that it might be because he didn’t trust me, but it was a feeling I hadn’t been able to shake since the day he sent Bellamy and Luca away. Asking me to lie to Luca had been a bigger test of loyalty than whipping him raw, and I could tell by the way he leaned away from me before leaving the room that he wasn’t convinced I’d done what he asked of me.
I had.
Even if it had killed me.
“Are you going to go after him?” Vince asked, jerking his chin toward the hallway that led to the kitchen.
“I haven’t decided,” I said, biting the tip of my tongue. “You wait here. I’ll go.”
“I’ll make myself at home,” Vince shot back, sinking comfortably into one of the couches. He spread his arms out across the back and propped his legs up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankle. “I don’t need a drink, thanks for asking.”
“You’re more arrogant than you have any right to be,” I told him.
He winked at me.
I gave him the finger and followed Fletcher into the kitchen, finding him with both hands braced against the counter, head hanging low between his shoulders.
“What’s going on?” I asked him quietly, resting my ass against his hand and re-crossing my arms in front of my chest.
Fletcher sighed. “Like you already know, my father thinks the North family is in debt. He bought Bellamy to use as a spy to find out for sure. Bellamy’s father hand-picked his roommate, isn’t that what he told us?”
“Right.”
“You don’t handpick the son of a mob empire if you aren’t tied up in their dealings.”
“It’s below him,” I mused.
“Quite.” Fletcher righted himself. “But I’m not sure it’s below Francis North.”
“Are you saying you think Gideon’s father is in debt with the mob?”
Fletcher grimaced. “I think my father is two steps ahead of me.”
“You’re not wrong,” Vince said from the doorway.
Fletcher and I both looked up, and it was impossible to tamp down the annoyance I felt at seeing him there, leaning against the wall with such a casual brand of arrogance that should have been reserved for people with far more power and pull than him.
“Francis North is in debt to my father,” Vince said, sounding bored. “But he’s also in debt to everyone else. That’s the evidence your father is after.”
“Explain,” I said.
“There were explicit rules to the loans my father gave, and if Francis has taken out money elsewhere and not paid back—with interest—what he owes us…”
“He’s double-dipping,” Fletcher said. “But how do you know what my father is looking for?”
Vince rolled his eyes.
“That doesn’t explain your relationship to Bellamy,” I interrupted, which felt more pressing than how the Angelini family had such deep insight into the Sinclair operation. I wasn’t sure if that was Fletcher’s priority, but just because he could pretend he didn’t care about any of us didn’t mean I could.
“I don’t have a relationship with Bellamy,” Vince said, taking a step into the kitchen. “Which was the whole point of coming to this garbage school and having a roommate in the first place. But you kept him.”
Vince enunciated the T harder than necessary and it made me want to hit him in the mouth.
“You’re not here for Bellamy at all,” Fletcher said.
“Smart and good-looking. Though it’s a bit of an overstatement. I am supposed to be keeping an eye on your father’s investment?—”
“But also me.”
“Also you,” Vince confirmed. “Which has been decidedly difficult since Bellamy hasn’t been home to talk about you.”
That explained the attitude Vince had the day I’d gone to the apartment with Bellamy to get his things. He was playing double duty, trying to make sure Bellamy stayed in one piece so he could get the dirt they all needed, and to make sure Fletcher was holding the company line. Fletcher was supposed to be using Bellamy to get dirt on the North family, which would in turn give the Angelinis the ammunition they needed to take them off the board entirely. The revelation somehow complicated everything, but made it easier at the same time. Vince was a new player who didn’t even want to be part of the game. Just like the five of us.
“What does my father want to know?” Fletcher asked.
Vince shrugged, like he couldn’t care less. “Everything.”