TIME TO SHOW THEM WHO’S BOSS
THIRTY-NINE
TIME TO SHOW THEM WHO’S BOSS
“Was Dyers liked at the event you attended?” I ask Wynter.
Her brow furrows. “Not particularly. I’d say his dad is.”
“Brutus—”
“What a name,” Shay derides, but I can tell he’s spoiling for a fight after watching that unfold.
And I get it.
Ever since I met Dyers in a Roman civilization class, I slotted him under the “jackass” category. Everything I’ve learned about him since, from the rape allegations to this argument today, only confirms my first impression.
“Brutus,” I continue like he never interrupted, “is a politician. He’s a diplomat. Lots of influence.”
I drum my fingers over the table, taking note of how the team infights while Denver heads for class. Not long after, Alec sidles from the booth and I have the worst feeling…
Alec can’t be trusted.
Alec’s a Veronian. Just like Dyers.
“Shay, we need to go.”
“What?”
“Wynter, stay here. See if they talk about anything else. We’ll be back shortly.”
“Where are you going?”
“We’ll be back,” I echo, tugging on Shay’s arm until he listens to me and heads out of the booth.
Slipping into our coats, we rush out of the door.
“What are we doing?” Shay questions, but God love him, he follows me.
Aela, his mom, sometimes says that I’m a bad influence and I get it, but also, it’s her fault for raising a loyal son.
“Alec left bare minutes after Denver did. I could be wrong but… what if he wants to punish her in private for humiliating Dyers? They’re both Veronians.”
Shay hisses in agreement. “I heard her say she was heading for the library.”
Grateful that both of us like to run, we head to the quad. Just in time too.
“Oh, my god. Over there, Shay.”
Alec’s yanking on Denver’s arm, hard enough for her to shriek. He doesn’t even seem to care that they’re in public.
She uses her bag to smash him in the side, but it’s not enough.
Alec’s a big guy, a hockey player for fuck’s sake, so there’s no way Denver can defend herself against the asshole.
Heart pounding, we ignore the “don’t step on the grass” signs and race over the quad.
I hear a yelp of pain but am relieved to note that it sounds masculine, not feminine.
Alec shouts, “Look, you need to talk to your dad about this situation.”
Shay and I share a look—her dad… the Veronian.
Fuck. This is so shady.
“About what?” Denver demands.
“Just bring up Dyers and me to him. I know you won’t let this drop, but he can explain why you need to.”
“What did he offer you?”
Alec frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s obsessed with Zach taking it all the way to the NHL. Always has been. What did he offer you to make sure that happens? It’s why you’ve been so hard on him, right? I should have figured it out sooner but—”
“What were you thinking, Alec?! Are you okay?” Shay growls, not giving much of a fuck about their conversation.
Unlike me.
That Denver has her wires crossed tells me she’s not a Veronian.
Shay leaps into the fray faster than I can, grabbing Denver’s arm and dragging her away from Alec while I ponder what we just witnessed.
Denver, full of expected unease, grows more concerned at our presence and takes refuge next to me.
Her attention flickers between us and Alec as if it’s beginning to register that she might have been in danger. “Thanks for checking in with me, but I’m fine.”
“Shay, she’s scared. Do something.” I gently brush her arm. “You’re fine now, Denver.”
Shay falls into one of the many positions Brennan taught us—light on his feet, hands ready to attack.
“Just butt out,” Alec bites off. “This has nothing to do with you, O’Donnelly!”
“It’s okay, Victoria, Denver. I’ll deal with this.”
Shay rolls up his sleeves, ignoring Denver when she croaks, “Honestly, it’s fine—”
“It isn’t,” Shay scorns. “If you want to go, you can.”
Sensing her fear, I nod at her, hoping to ease her discomfort. It works because she shoots me a thankful smile and rushes back to the quad.
Finally, we’re alone and Alec’s mask, never fixed in place that well, drops.
“What the fuck are you doing, Victoria?”
“You’re the one harassing women in public,” I reason, placing a hand on Shay’s shoulder to calm him down.
Making a mental note to tell Brennan they need to grapple during the Thanksgiving break to burn off some steam, I tune in when Alec snarls, “This has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me. I’m friends with Denver—” I will be soon. “—and I’m not about to let you bully her because Derek Dyers is a Veronian who doesn’t understand the word no!”
“You’ll regret this.”
“No, I think you will, Alec. You’re the co-conspirator in a potential murder case. I have proof that you drove me to the country club on Friday night. We’re in this together or not at all.”
I angle my phone for him to watch the video. As the footage rolls, he blanches, his pallor turning so white he’s almost gray. His extreme reaction is like something from an SNL skit.
It makes me wonder if this is how the Veronians cultivate loyalty…
My guilt is his and his guilt is mine.
“You don’t understand.” Sweat visibly drips down his temples, confirming how bad this is. “Derek’s father is important to the brothers.” He glances at Shay, his jaw tensing. “I’ve said too much.”
“Derek’s father will shortly accept that his son is a liability and all liabilities get cut off. Did you see what he flashed in the diner?”
Alec frowns. “No, what?”
I tsk. “I haven’t been branded yet—” Shay stiffens at my statement. “—but even I recognized what Dyers showed anyone who bothered looking…”
Alec’s eyes grow round with horror. “Fuck. You’re right.”
“You got landed with me on Friday night, dropping me off at a crime scene, while Dyers had cozy conversations with brothers high up in the organization with Wynter on his arm. Does that seem fair to you?”
As I contemplate what Wynter might have overheard, his jaw works. “It’s the nature of the game. I’m a first generation Veronian. He isn’t.”
“And you think it’s fair that his incompetence is rewarded?”
“What do you mean?”
“He rapes someone and doesn’t have to leave the school, never mind get expelled or deal with a criminal record. Anyone with a brain can see the discord on your team and I don’t watch the sport. I just had to witness that byplay in the diner. You’re the one having to manage him.”
“All while he’s sniffing coke at parties—”
“That’s just rumor,” Alec disregards, but I can tell he knows Shay’s right.
“He attacked Wynter on Friday and got a knee to the balls for his pains, then brings Addison into the diner, acting like he’s king of the hill, and parades her on his arm when she was visibly scared of him. To compound matters, he puts himself in a position where people could see his branding…”
Alec flinches.
I stack that away for another time. Another place.
“He’s getting sloppy, Alec. Maybe he always was. Maybe his arrogance knows no bounds after he got away with raping some poor woman on campus, but mark my words, he’ll only get worse with everyone enabling him.”
I can see my warning hits home because Alec’s gaze trips off mine and to the ground then back again.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. His father—”
“His father will cut a liability loose,” I repeat.
“We both know I’m heading into the Veronians.
We both know who my ties are. I might be first gen too, but my backing speaks louder than anything Dyers could ever shout.
You don’t want to get on my bad side, Alec.
People who do tend to lose their appendages. ”
Alec backs up a step. Only this time, he slams into the wall. “What?!”
“You think the mob plays friendly?” I grin at him, well aware I look like a shark.
But I scented blood and I’m going in for the kill.
“We don’t. The Veronians want access to the perks of the mafia, especially after that nonsense with the Albanian Mob didn’t work out—” His blank stare tells me he has no idea that the Albanians were the Veronians’ first attempt at having their own foot soldiers.
An attempt that went disastrously for them.
“—and they’ll get it through me, but there are repercussions too.
You play nice with me or you lose an ear, maybe your hands…
“Hard to play hockey without your hands, wouldn’t you say, Shay?”
“Definitely. Though, I’m sure there are ways. Prosthetics have come on in leaps and bounds. Didn’t I hear that you wanted to head to France? Play in a league there?”
“Our uncle has a team in the NHL. Maybe you could apprentice there for him?”
Hope might gleam in his eyes, but Alec’s Adam’s apple dances. “What do you need from me?”
“Nothing.” I smile. “For now.”
“I understand.”
I hold out my hand for him. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Reluctantly, he accepts it and we shake on it.
“Steer clear of Dyers, though. I’d hate to see you get burned.”
Recoiling, he scuttles away like the rat he is.
“What did you show him?”
“Something Brennan sent me earlier.” I pass him my phone once I unlock the screen.
Shay’s eyes narrow upon the entranceway to the country club where I was arrested. Alec’s standing there, clear as day.
“He looks like a getaway driver.”
“Watch. Hit play.”
The .mp4 file shows Alec make a call. The cops roll in just as he rolls out. The way it pans with the CCTV footage covering the driveway, it captures Alec dipping his chin in farewell at Bordeau perfectly.
Shay whistles. “I see why he was sweating.”
“And here I thought you’d say it was because you scared him shitless.”
He rolls his eyes. “Now that you’ve backed some asshole into a corner, can we finish our breakfast?”
I slide my arm through his. “Definitely. We worked up an appetite.”