Chapter 11
REGAN
Ishould let it go.
Those words deserve to be tattooed right on my forehead: let it go.
That’s been my motto, my anthem, for years.
Let it go, let it go, except even though a few days pass after the gallery event, I still can’t stop thinking about that alleyway.
Liam has to be wrong. It’s the only explanation.
Luke’s been drifting toward the dark side of the business for years, but there’s no way he’s got enough power and clout to make actual gun deals.
No, what we saw was fine and normal and innocuous, and Liam’s the one making it a much bigger deal than it really was.
He’s the problem, not me, no way.
Luke shows up at work on a rare Tuesday afternoon. I find him at his office, a tiny interior room with terrible lighting and cheap corporate art on the walls. He looks up, eyes bloodshot, clothes rumpled. “Regan, I love you, but whatever you’re about to say, please say it very, very quietly.”
“Why do you always act like you’re getting in trouble when you see me?”
“Habit. Experience.”
I tap my nails against the doorframe. “I wanted to ask you about something from the other night at the gallery.”
“No, I can’t explain the meaning of all the weirdly drawn tits, except that the artist must like boobs.”
“I was thinking more about your meeting in the alleyway.”
There it is, a brief moment, where he looks up at me with a sharp frown and narrowed eyes. His hungover act fades, burned away by a flash of intensity, but it’s back again as he pushes himself to his feet.
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” He stretches and comes around the desk. “But I got a lunch meeting soon.”
“It’s only ten in the morning.”
“Yeah, well, I have to work up to it.” He brushes past me.
I keep pace with him as we walk through the hall. “Who were those guys though? I don’t remember seeing them before.”
“Some friends.”
“I know all your friends.”
“That’s not remotely true.”
“Seriously, there’s Leopold, Bobby, Small Bobby, Wrighty, Ashley, Asher, Tom—“
“Are you listing everyone I hung out with in high school?”
“Middle school. Working my way up.”
“Regan.” He stops and faces me. His lips twitch into a plastered-on smile, lacking his usual warmth. It sends a deep chill down my spine. “Leave it alone. I don’t know what you saw, but it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
“You’re doing something for Dad, aren’t you?”
“The work I do for Dad is none of your business. Leave it alone, Regan.”
“Luke—“
“I’m not your baby brother anymore. You’re not protecting me, okay? Let it go.”
He storms off. I watch him, and I feel like a stone sinking to the bottom of a black lake, the light receding, cold, inky darkness closing in around me.
What’s he got himself into? And worse, what the hell was Dad thinking?
Luke’s a lot of things, but he’s not street smart.
He’s going to get himself killed if this goes on.
I’m bothered for the rest of the day. I try to concentrate on work but it feels hollow.
Especially knowing what I know about the way things run here, about the truth behind what this company does and why it exists.
There are numbers in the books, in the real books, that don’t quite make sense; numbers which should represent lumber, for example, but definitely won’t add up; numbers that are malleable in ways numbers shouldn’t be.
And I’m thinking Luke knows about those numbers, knows more than he should. Maybe Luke is one of them.
The thought shakes me.
I’m rattled as I head back home. I don’t want to go to my father’s house, but I can’t exactly return to my old apartment.
Not to that place. I need to find my own space, but why bother?
I’m empty and feeling alone when I get off the train a few blocks from the house, only to find him waiting for me at the exit, like he knew exactly where and when I’d emerge.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Liam falls in beside me like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I was in the neighborhood.”
“At the exact moment I get home every day?”
“Wow, what a coincidence. Want me to walk with you?”
“No thanks.”
He keeps pace anyway. “How was your day?”
“Are we doing small talk?”
“We can do big talk instead. Do you believe in a soul? What happens after we die? Is the color red for me the same red you see?”
“My day was fine, how was yours?”
“Interesting. Which isn’t always the case.” He gestures at a bar across the street. “Let’s get a drink.”
I’m about to tell him off. I had a long day and I’m stressed about my brother. The last thing I need is a drink with Liam, especially with the wedding coming up. If anyone sees us together, they might start talking, and that might lead to my father finding out what me and Liam did together—
But he’s already walking off.
I could leave him and head home, but something nags at me. Liam doesn’t appear for no reason. He’s not the kind of man who waits by subway exits unless there’s a purpose.
And I could use a drink.
The bar’s beginning to fill up with post-work young people. I slip onto a stool beside Liam and he orders for both of us: white wine for me, bourbon and ice for him. “You strike me as a spritzer kind of gal, but I went for the straight stuff.”
“I’m going to pretend that’s not a veiled insult.”
“I wasn’t really veiling it.”
The bartender returns with our drinks. I take down half mine in a couple gulps. “To be clear, it’s been a long day.”
“I see that. Want to talk about it?”
I snort, which is undignified, but I’m past the point of caring. “Not really. Would you even listen?”
“We’re getting married. If you need me, I’ll always drop what I’m doing.”
That gets me. It’s a surprise, and for once, I don’t think he’s joking around. His face is utterly sincere.
What the hell is with this guy? One second, he’s teasing me, being a total ass just for the heck of it, and the next he’s saying stuff like that.
“Luke blew me off earlier today. I knew I shouldn’t have asked him about that stupid alley and those guys he was meeting with but I couldn’t help myself.”
Liam takes that in. “You thought I was wrong.”
“Hoped you were, anyway. Maybe convinced myself too?”
“Sorry to disappoint you, love.”
“I’d better get used to it.”
“Funny though. Luke’s the reason I’m here.”
“Did you look into him? Like I asked?”
He nods, taking his time. “That I did.”
“And? What did you find?” A big part of me doesn’t want to hear. It’s one thing, guessing that Luke’s up to no good and getting sucked deeper into the bad side of the family business, and it’s another to know he’s selling guns.
“I can tell you that he’s trusted. I don’t know the details of his jobs, but they’re important. He’s been working his way up the ranks with the help of his father for years, and lately he broke into the big time. I don’t know how or why or what he did, but he’s marked.”
“Marked? What’s that mean?”
“Sort of like the Italians and their Made Men, but different. Luke’s got his mark. That means he’s one of us.”
My heart sinks into the floor. I lift my wine and finish the rest of the glass. I watch some of the remaining liquid seep down the side, pooling at the bottom, my guts churning. My shoulders feel heavy.
“I remember when he was little. He used to get in so much trouble. God, but Dad never punished him the way I got punished. I thought it was unfair, but then I realized something. Dad expected things of him in ways he never expected them from me, and that was liberating. I knew Luke would have a harder time of it, especially as we got older. Maybe not with the rules… but the other stuff. The business stuff.”
“Family is complicated,” Liam says, watching me carefully, his attention warm across my chest. Or maybe that’s the wine.
“Mine worse than most. I told myself I could help Luke, keep him out of the darkness, maybe save him, you know? But now I realize I’ve been kidding myself.”
“He’s not your responsibility.”
“But he is though? I mean, he’s my brother, that’s how it works. And Luke’s so kind, he’s the gentlest person I’ve ever met, which is why the thought of him selling guns is striking.”
“That’s not the image you have of it.”
“Right, and it hurts, you know?”
Liam grunts and brushes his fingers against my hand. “It’s hard when your idea of a person gets ripped to pieces. You have to rebuild it, and the rebuild is never good.”
“That’s exactly how it feels. Like Luke’s been torn up.” I lean back, breath leaving me in a rush. Why am I opening up to Liam right now? And why does it feel like he’s really listening and understands me? “I don’t know. It’s dumb, the whole thing’s dumb.”
“I’m sorry, love. I know me being here and telling you these things doesn’t help.”
“I need to hear it though.”
“Maybe.” He swirls his glass and sips. “Want another?”
“I should get home before Dad notices I’m missing.”
“He’s keeping tabs on you now?”
“I think he’s making sure I don’t try to escape before the wedding.”
“Smart man.”
“Exactly. Who could blame me if I tried to run from you?” I flash him a quick smile and he returns it. But the light moment passes. “Do me a favor. I want you to watch out for Luke.”
“Ah, Regan, I don’t know—“
“Please. I’m not asking you to be his guardian angel. You don’t need to follow him around. But try to nudge him out of trouble if you can. You have sway, don’t you? I mean, that’s why you’re marrying me?”
“Look at you, all full of yourself.”
“Tell me it’s not true.”
“I’m not a savior.” He finishes his drink and slides it carefully from him. “That’s not my skillset. I’m more of a killer.”
I run my fingers over the bar top wood. It’s wet and cold and I try not to look at my future husband. The killer I’m going to marry. Fear threatens at the edges of my mind and I push it back hard. “Try anyway?”
“Stop asking me to help people.” Liam gets up and tosses some cash beside his glass, more than enough for both our drinks and a healthy tip. “I’ll do what I can. Alright? But no more.”
“Consider it a wedding present for me.”
He touches my hair, brushes it from my neck. His fingers graze my skin and I lean toward him unconsciously. “A better man could offer more.”
I watch him walk away, not sure what the hell he means, but too twisted up in my own problems to think too much about it.