Chapter 26
Lincoln
Four Years Ago
The Christmas Gala some pompous asshole throws in Gravity Hill is rumored to be the place to find the Hemlocks.
There’s rumors about an engagement and merging families, but I’ll believe it when I see it.
I’ve done more research on the Hemlock family since I had the time, and no one in this family would be drawn into this kind of arrangement without cause.
Creed, the leader here in Gravity Hill, is a smart man, as are the men who work for him. I don’t know exactly what’s going down at this party, but I do know Quinnly and I will be meeting face to face tonight.
Again.
I’ve donned a tux, something I rarely wear. I prefer my clothes less… restricting, makes for easy work. My sister and her husband called me out here to rescue my niece, but I quickly realized the real reason they called me.
Pride.
The rival mafia family–Romero–has connections.
That much I can clearly see from the party.
Everything is dripping in gold, the women are all in fancy dresses and glitter, the men in tuxedoes.
Opulence at its finest, and here I am, being paraded around as my sister’s personal mercenary extraordinaire.
Ooohs and ahhs abound, as if these people have bodies to drop and money to burn. I have no doubt most of them do, and they’d pay my fee, but conversing with them gives me a headache.
There’s a glimpse of purple sequins in my peripheral, something that doesn’t belong among the red, greens, golds, and silvers. It causes a blip in my brain.
She’s here.
Slowly, and without any pleasantries or goodbyes, I untangle myself from the conversations I’ve already forgotten about.
Heading in the last direction I caught sight of the purple sparkle, I walk the room.
Twice I’ve gone around in circles, slowly, with the gaze of a predator, yet still the purple dress evades me, along with the woman in it.
Drinkware clinks as a man invites everyone to sit for dinner. People slowly make their way into the hall that’s been converted into a massive dining room. Watching them flow into the space, I wait in the corridor for her.
My reward is leaning against a pillar out on the porch, half hidden by the open doors. Her leg has slipped free of the high slit in the dress, a mouse setting a trap for the cat.
Measuring my steps, I walk her way, bypassing the few stragglers who haven’t yet joined the table. Leaning against the opposite side of the same pillar as her, both of us staring out into the night, I hear her giggle.
“Your dress doesn’t fit the aesthetic tonight, Quinnly,” I prod, if only to see where her head is at.
“And why should I adhere to a dress code as boring as the rest of them?” She asks, the sequins on her dress scratching against the stone as she moves closer.
Slowly we dance around the pillar, the only sound coming from her dress against the stone as we move.
“Purple seems more my color, wouldn’t you agree? ”
Stepping out from beside the pillar, she’s in front of me like a mirage in the desert.
She’s… astounding.
Beautiful, magnificent, almost an unnaturally beautiful being.
“Purple does suit you,” I murmur, looking from the tips of her dark toenail polish to the short dark wig she’s got on. Her makeup is heavy around her eyes, face almost porcelain white. Her lips are painted a vivid crimson, like fresh blood spilled over the purest snow.
“Mhmm,” she hums. Her eyes cutting to the side, not quite believing me, the icy blue making her appear even paler. “And you, Dear Uncle, what are you here for?”
“I’m only a cat looking for a mouse,” I tell her, willing her to notice me as I’ve noticed her. For all the years I’ve followed, learned, baited her. I want her to know. Yet, she’s only tilting her head and observing me.
“What if you’re a cat who becomes a mouse?” Her hands are behind her back–going for her scissors I imagine.
“Here, Quinnly?” I tut, shaking my head slowly as I step toward her. Reaching around her back, she allows me to pluck her scissors from her hand. Her cheeky wink and salacious smile threatens to send me to my knees.
Our second time face to face, her curiosity and my desire mingling in a shared stare, eyes looking at one another, bodies mere inches apart, and she still has no idea.
That I love her.
That my heart beats a new rhythm when she’s near.
How my whole existence, since I knew of her, has been altered to accommodate her.
I would give her anything she asked of me, and more, even if she never knew.
“Will you kill me now?” She asks, eyes blinking up at mine. Her body brushes against my chest and before I can answer, she’s freed her scissors from my hands and takes off across the long driveway.
The rocks below her heeled feet shift, but she stays upright as I watch her. Cutting across the lawn she disappears with a haunting laugh just as shouts and gunshots echo from the house.
“Soon, Quinnly, you and I will have our time.”