Chapter 20 Zaria #2
“All right.” Kane rubbed his hands together. “Ward owns a warehouse just across the street. Don’t worry,” he added, perhaps in response to Zaria’s grimace. “He rarely frequents it. That’s where we’re going to store this thing.”
Together he and Fletcher shoved the instrument across the grass—that part seemed to take some effort—and through the iron gate at the perimeter of the garden.
Zaria felt her whole body tense as they crossed the dark road, but she didn’t see another soul in the vicinity.
In this part of the city, properties were large enough that the buildings were far away from one another.
And thank God for that; they must have made quite the odd sight pushing a pianoforte on wheels down the street.
“Don’t worry,” Fletcher said jovially, catching Zaria’s wince at the clacking of wheels against the cobblestones. “It sounds just like a stagecoach. If anyone happens to overhear, they won’t think anything of it.”
She suspected he was probably right, but it didn’t make the situation any less strange.
She was relieved when they stopped outside the doors of the warehouse and Kane—unhurried, unbothered—procured a key from somewhere on his person.
Once the lock clicked, Fletcher yanked it ajar, holding the door open for Kane in a gesture that seemed automatic.
“Thanks, Fletch,” Kane said, shoving the pianoforte through. “I’ll take it in. You can stand guard.”
Zaria folded her arms across her chest. “And me?”
Kane glanced over his shoulder at her, an afterthought. “Come or stay. It doesn’t make a difference.”
And then he was gone, Fletcher slamming the warehouse doors behind him with an upheaval of dust. The Irishman leaned against the exterior of the building, long legs crossed at the ankles, staring into the smog.
After a beat of uncertainty, Zaria did the same.
Something about the way Fletcher glanced sidelong at her made her suspect he had something to say.
But perhaps he thought better of it, because he remained silent until Zaria said, “What is it?”
He breathed a laugh, directing a grin into the night. “You’re perceptive.”
“You’re easy to read. If there’s something you want to say to me, just say it.”
Fletcher turned to look at her now. “Kane. You’re angry with him, and you have the right to be.”
“I know that.” The words came out defensive, though Zaria had tried to keep her voice calm. She gritted her teeth as Fletcher considered his response.
“Where Kane goes, trouble tends to follow. That said, I can promise you he never meant for Cecile to die.”
“So he told me.”
“You don’t believe him?”
That startled a laugh out of Zaria. “Should I? Tell me, has Kane Durante ever been honest a day in his life?”
“He tells the truth more often than you might think. But I also know he won’t waste much time trying to convince you of it.”
“Because he doesn’t care what I believe as long as he gets what he wants in the end?”
Fletcher ran an agitated hand through his hair. “No. Because he thinks it’s better to let everyone detest him.”
It was harsher than Zaria had been expecting, and she swiveled to face Fletcher, her lips parted. She didn’t think they were talking about her or Cecile any longer. She didn’t quite know what they were talking about, in fact.
“Whether he intended it or not,” Zaria said coldly, “Cecile died because of Kane. The man who shot her named him, Fletcher. Said his name like I should have known better than to ever get involved with him. And he was right, though I suppose it’s too late now.
I’ll see our agreement through, but only because I keep my word. ”
And, a voice in her head supplied, because you’re going to help me get what I need.
A moment of silence fell between them. She was braced for Fletcher to argue, but to her surprise, he didn’t. He worried at his lower lip, abruptly looking very tired.
“Don’t tell Kane I said this,” he mused, “but I think he rather likes working with you. Having someone besides me around. But I also think the moment he starts to feel truly content, he tries to destroy it.”
Zaria narrowed her eyes, searching the lines of Fletcher’s face. She didn’t know why he was telling her this. “Is Kane going to… do something? Something that will make me regret our arrangement?”
“No,” Fletcher said, and the single syllable was heavy. “I only wanted you to keep it in the back of your mind.”
“Why?”
“Well, you’re angry at him now, and I’m sure you’ll be angry at him again.”
“Ah.” Now Zaria understood. She relaxed the weight of her body more fully against the door. “You’re making excuses for him.”
Fletcher shook his head. “I just think—”
Zaria cut him off. “Are you the only person he hasn’t driven away yet?”
“He could never drive me away. I would never let him.”
“Why not?”
Fletcher hesitated a moment. Above them smog mingled with the moonlight, turning the sky a murky gray.
“Kane has always been Ward’s favorite. He convinced Ward to let me join his crew when I was young.
He thought he was helping me, and he was at the time.
But Kane doesn’t see it that way. He doesn’t see the fact that I’d be on the streets—or possibly dead—without him.
He doesn’t see how badly a young Irish boy, starving and separated from his family, needed a friend.
All he sees is the fact that he damned me to a life governed by Ward’s rules.
And nothing I say will change his mind. For whatever reason, he thinks I’m too good for this life. ”
Zaria took a beat to digest Fletcher’s words. She didn’t want to relate to Kane, who blamed himself for being a poor friend. But she knew what it was to look at the person you cared for most and wonder if you could have done better by them. “And what do you think?”
Fletcher was quiet again, and at first, she thought he wouldn’t answer.
Eventually, he said, “You know, my parents were the most optimistic people I knew. We had so little, and yet they never made me feel like I was wanting for anything. My father used to say this Gaelic proverb—Níor bhris focal maith fiacail riamh. It means ‘A good word never broke a tooth.’ You don’t lose anything by being kind, essentially.
” He sighed. “I’ve done a lot of things that would have disappointed my parents.
For the most part, though, I try to imagine what they would have done in my place.
I have good memories to draw on, and they ground me.
Kane doesn’t have that. I’m not convinced he knows how to be positive.
He blames himself for everything, including where I ended up. ”
“That’s foolish,” Zaria said decisively. “It makes it sound like you didn’t play any part in your own life.”
Fletcher tilted his head back, gazing up at the sky. “You’re not wrong. But I can’t be angry at him for it. Because if the situations were reversed, I suppose I’d be furious at myself, too. He’s my brother. He thinks misery is all he deserves.”
“Well.” Zaria pushed away from the door. “Maybe he’s right.”
Neither of them said another word.