Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Navy Achebe
Sitting across from Honor, I watched him eat like the entire world wasn't going up in flames.
And maybe that was a little dramatic, but it was the only way I could explain the burn crackling deep in my chest. Embers had been raining around me ever since Talon's body slid down my back and hit the concrete with a sickening finality.
His body didn't thump loudly, but it echoed.
In my head.
In my chest.
In the space behind my ribs where love used to live.
If I stood still for too long, I could still the cool blade pressed against my throat and the drag of his fingers as he slipped. I felt it all while Honor sat there chewing like tonight was just another dinner.
"Can you stop?" The scrape of his fork against the plate made me cringe.
Looking up from his plate, his eyes narrowed. "Stop what?"
"Scraping your fork," I answered, frustrated.
"You want me to stop eating?" He frowned.
"I want you to stop scraping your damn fork against the plate," I snapped, then quickly pulled back. "I'm sorry."
"You good?" he asked, eyes softening with sympathy I didn't want or feel like I deserved.
"I'm fine. It's just been a day. My father and Choyce have been carrying on like they don't care how Talon is laid to rest."
"Sounds like Lucian to me." Honor shrugged.
"Sounds like Choyce to you, too?" My brows knitted, waiting on his answer.
"I wouldn't know, but I don't fault her for not wanting to participate in the arrangements of the nigga who brought their daughter to see Lucian after Lucian threatened to kill her."
"What?" My eyes bugged. "When did this happen, and how do you know?"
"Not too long after you were shot at, I went to Lucian to get a name, and Kage was parked out front keeping an eye on Cherish for Choyce."
"Lucian never ceases to amaze me," I scoffed. "You know I wouldn't be surprised if Talon was right, and Lucian did want him dead."
"What would be the reason for killing his son?"
"You."
Honor's hand paused. The chicken wing hovered midair, over his plate, before he set it down and grabbed a napkin to wipe his hands with.
"You think Lucian would kill his own son over me?" he asked.
Honor didn't ask because he wanted an honest answer. He asked because I'd finally caught up to a conclusion he'd already dissected and boxed away.
"Talon said Lucian, you and I wanted him dead," I reminded him, folding my arms to keep my hands from fidgeting. "Was he drunk, yeah? Paranoid, sure, but he wasn't dumb."
Honor's jaw ticked. Quick and controlled, then it disappeared as fast as it came.
"That doesn't answer the question," he evenly said. "Lucian wrote Talon off as the person to lead the Mancinelli Mafia a long time ago. He’s training Choyce to run things—"
"He's not,” I cut in. “If Choyce was in training, she wouldn't have time to kiss you. That girl has far too much time on her hands to be learning how to lead the mafia. But you…"
I let my voice trail off for a second. I tilted my head, watching him the way he watched everyone else.
"You've been running nonstop for Lucian. It picked up when Wolfe found out King was stealing. Killing Talon gives Lucian a valid excuse to put you at the head of the table. You're not his blood, but you're close. He raised you—"
"Don't give Lucian more credit than he deserves. He didn't raise me," Honor gritted.
"Either way, he taught you everything, influenced your mannerisms, and the way you think. You'd be the perfect person to take over."
"Lucian's that much of a master mind that he thought so far into the future, he predicted Talon would pull up to River and Crown's engagement party, put a knife to your neck, and I would kill him?"
My eyes dragged over Honor's face, searching for the smallest fracture.
"I'm your greatest weakness, and he knows that."
"True, but how did Talon get there?"
I shrugged because that was the only piece to the puzzle I was missing.
"We don't have to guess if I killed Talon," Honor flatly said. "I did. As far as Lucian wanting him dead, that's a conversation for you to have with him."
Honor grabbed his glass and took a slow sip.
"Maybe we can all talk about it tomorrow, at his funeral."
A humorless laugh slipped out of him.
"You and Lucian can talk 'bout it," he muttered, pushing his plate away. "I'm not going to that shit."
"You should," I calmly stated.
His eyes lifted to mine. "To do what? Stand there while they lower him into the ground and pretend, I didn't find joy in killing that nigga?"
"Honor!" I blacked. "You can't say that?"
"It's the fucking truth. You think I didn't wanna pull up on that nigga after you told me he's the reason you caught your first body?"
"That's different—"
"It's not. That nigga forced you to do what he was too weak to handle. Killing him made y'all even 'cause he should've died that night you had to save your mother."
My fingers curled into my palms. "He's not even being buried. I had him cremated."
"Cool, I'm still not going to that shit, and neither should you."
"He's my brother!"
"That nigga wasn't shit to you. Wolfe is your brother. Crown is your brother. Both of 'em would murder a village before they let you take a life. Talon was a bitch, and that's how he needs to be remembered."
"I'm not asking you to grieve him. I'm asking you to be there for me."
Honor's jaw tightened before he spoke.
"You know there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do for you," he said, voice low and certain.
He leaned forward, forearms resting on the table, eyes locking onto mine so I couldn't mistake him.
"When it comes to funerals for your family…
the only place I'ma ever be is on the opposite side of the gun pulling the trigger. "
I held his gaze, refusing to let my face portray the sudden chill creeping up my spine.
Lucian was a man who moved with power. Untouchable. A man who had never once looked like prey, but Honor spoke on him as if he already were.
"You would kill my father?" I asked.
Honor didn't blink. He just stared, and that was confirmation enough.
"How was therapy?" I asked, changing the conversation.
"It was cool," he nodded. "Dr. Lockhart seems like she knows her stuff."
"I would hope so if she's a doctor," I joked, cracking the tension.
"Her daughter's chill as fuck too. She makes marmalade tea. I brought you some home. It's supposed to calm your nervous system."
"Mhm," I hummed, jealousy dancing on the tip of my tongue. "You seem real friendly lately."
"Not really. I only talk to Wynn 'cause she said I remind her of her pops. That shit brought on a different type of feeling."
"Wynn," my brows pinched. "Why does her name sound so familiar?"
"I hadn't heard of it until I met her." He laughed. "She used to figure skate, or some shit she said."
"Bronwynn Lockhart!" I squealed.
"Yeah. You know her?"
"Know her… no, but I followed her journey in the Vanguard Junior Series. She was cleaning up, winning left and right, until her last competition. The judges were doing the most, and I guess she lost it. After that, she kind of fell off."
"Yeah, she mentioned that. It was around the time her father died."
"Poor girl. She had so much promise."
"Next time I go I'll tell her you're a fan."
"Please don't have that girl thinking I'm a groupie."
"You might as well be with how excited you got." He grinned.
"I'll always get excited when a black girl is dominating in a sport."
Honor pushed his chair back and then rounded the table like he hadn't declared war on my father in the calmest tone possible.
He stopped in front of me and held his hand out.
I stared at it for half a second before placing mine in his.
He tugged gently, and I stood up, my body brushing against his as he pulled me closer.
His arms slid around my waist, folding me into the only place I belonged.
"You gon' be okay without me tomorrow? His chin dipped, lips grazing my cheek.
"Oh, now you care," I joked. "But yeah, I'll be fine. Chosyn, Honey, and River already agreed to go with me."
He nodded once.
"You know I love you, right?" he asked, pulling back to see my face.
"Tell me how much," I whispered.
His thumb brushed along my jaw.
"Enough to die," he quietly professed, "to make sure you live."
The conviction in his voice was absolute, and before I could respond, his mouth covered mine, sealing something I wasn't sure I wanted sealed.