38. Daddicus – Seven
38
DADDICUS
SEVEN
A tty’s right.
Ambrose could have killed Eli when he rendered himself no longer useful, but he didn’t, and we’re going to make sure that decision haunts him until the end of his very short, very stressful days.
“We’ve been working to get our vengeance ever since,” I tell Aurora. “But it’s easier said than done when your enemy is cunning as a fox and slipperier than an oil-coated eel.”
“I wouldn’t say he’s that smart,” Atticus says, stooping to scratch Ellie behind the ears. “Just really fucking good at hiding.”
“He has his men do all his business transactions for him,” Eli explains, looking more tired than I’ve seen him in months. Maybe longer. “And we were never able to find the place where he was keeping the art. Keeping me.”
“Doesn’t mean we won’t,” Atticus asserts. “We will find it. And we will bring it all home.”
I push the cork stopper back into the whiskey bottle and sigh. “In the meantime, we’ve been doing everything in our power to make Ambrose’s life a living hell. Ruining his art deals. Turning his connections in the underground market against him.”
Despite myself, I grin. I miss running jobs with my boys, but there’s a certain sweetness in causing someone pain who is deserving of it. Even if it’s not the sort of pain I’d prefer to inflict. Atticus and Eli are right about one thing; as much as I’d like to see Ambrose’s head on a pike…
“He should have to watch everything he’s built for himself turn to nothing but dust in his hands, just like Julian did. He should have to lose everything he cares about.”
Only then should he be allowed to die.
“And so he will,” Atticus promises. “If my plan works, we might finally have the in we’ve been looking for, to take Ambrose down from inside his own network.”
My jaw clamps shut and without meaning to, my gaze slides to Aurora.
No.
I won’t put her in Ambrose’s path. If that’s what Atticus is planning, he can fucking forget it. No one is forcing her to do anything. Not while I’m around.
Eli won’t go for it, either. We can find our own way.
“About that.” Eli’s voice drips with tension and something curiously close to malice. “It’s about time you told us what you want with Aurora, and how she fits into this ‘plan’ of yours.”
Atticus couldn’t look more fucking gobsmacked if I’d actually slapped him upside the head. I purse my lips to hold in a very childish interjection of Ooooooh shit.
Yup. He went there. Eli just dropped it right there on the kitchen island, in front of Ro.
Ro twists to look at Atticus, and is that a little bit of anger in her eyes now? Fuck, I’m just glad I’m not the one on the receiving end of that, though I suspect when she finds out Eli and I knew there was a plan at all, she won’t be exactly thrilled with any of us.
“Atticus?” She sounds confused now. A little hurt. I don’t fucking like it. “What does he mean?”
“Seriously, Eli?” Atticus mutters.
“Yes, seriously. I’m done playing this game with you. It’s time for you to explain why you brought her here.”
“I knew the cleaning job was bullshit,” Ro says under her breath and then glares at Atticus again. “No one pays a maid fifteen thousand dollars a month to clean a house that’s never even fucking dirty. God, how could I have been so stupid?”
“You’re not, Ro.” I drop a kiss to the top of her head. “He really was going to pay you and try to leave some messes for you to clean.”
“How long have you known?”
Ro looks between Eli and me, and I wish I’d just told her the real reason she was here from the fucking start. Why didn’t I?
“Since the start,” Eli admits. “But Atticus never told us what he was planning. Just that he thought maybe we could…” His face scrunches up. “… use you.”
She pushes out from the counter and gets to her feet. “Are you serious? Wow. You know every girl loves to hear how she can be fucking used .”
Ah fuck.
“That’s not how it is anymore, and I think you know that,” I say, and she stops trying to walk away. Her fists clench and for a few beats, she says nothing.
When she finally turns around, she doesn’t look at any of us. Not really. Her face shows only a very strained, practiced sort of calm. It’s a mask I want to pull off. She has a right to be angry, and a part of me wishes she’d let us all have a taste of the fire I can see burning just beneath her placid surface.
“This plan ,” she spits out the word like it’s dirty. “It’s to take down this Ambrose guy?”
A muscle in Atticus’s jaw tics. “Yes.”
“Will it mean getting the art back?”
“It could.”
“You don’t have to—” Eli starts, but Ro silences him with a raised palm.
She grinds her teeth behind her lips, steeling herself before she comes back to the island, but doesn’t sit. “I want to hear it.”
“And you will,” I promise her. “Tomorrow morning. After we all get some rest.”
Aurora follows my fleeting gaze to Eli, and her lips part when she sees what I see. Taking in the pallor of his skin and the deep circles beneath his eyes. The way he’s gripping his knees. How his shoulders are pulled in tight.
He’s had enough.
Barring Aurora’s catnap on the way to France, none of us have slept in god knows how many hours. This conversation will not be productive or good for anyone if we have it right now. I mean, fuck, depending on what Atticus says, I’m not even sure I can trust myself not to deck him.
“No, I want to hear it now,” Eli pushes.
I shake my head at Atticus, and he gets the point. “Sev’s right, Eli. We all need some rest. Let me collect everything I have so far and show you in the morning.”
“All of us,” Eli stipulates, reaching for Ro’s hand.
I’m more than a little relieved when she lets him take it, twining her fingers with his.
“Yes. All of us.”
Eli nods, mostly to himself.
“You should all go get some sleep,” Atticus orders, always needing the last word. “And a shower.”
“Ooookay, Daddicus,” I say sarcastically, trying to alleviate some of the tension in the room. “You’re one to talk. Those dark circles under your eyes are bigger than a grave digger’s and your stress BO smells like Satan’s asshole.”
The glower he gives me would be comical coming from anyone else who wasn’t a trained killer.
Nah.
It’s still funny as fuck.
“Seriously, man.” I make a waving motion with my hand in front of my nose and preen internally when Ro struggles not to smile.
“ Daddicus ,” she repeats to herself in a restrained whisper, covering her mouth to trap in a snort.
Success!
I thought that was pretty damn good.
“It’s making my eyes water,” I finish, feeling Atticus’s glare on my back as I walk away. “You should really do something about that.”