FIFTY-FIVE DYERS, YOU JUST MADE YOUR LAST ENEMY
FIFTY-FIVE
DYERS, YOU JUST MADE YOUR LAST ENEMY
Wynter: Check this out
Wynter: There’s a reason he’s at the top of our shit list
Wynter: Didn’t think there was higher than first place
*Wynter sends a picture*
My eyes widen at the disgusting hack job on my phone. I shove it at Shay, who’s busy sneak-eating brownies Aunt Aoife gave us after we trekked down to the city for afternoon tea with the aunties. He stayed home to decorate the house for the holidays with his mom—family tradition.
Frowning at being disturbed, he looks away from the oversized book he’s reading on tort law, drops the brownie in a spray of crumbs, then gawks at the picture too.
“What the fuck?” He rubs his eyes like they’re too tired to focus. “That’s Denver and Zach from the diner.”
“Yeah. No shit.”
It was Denver and Zach. Kissing. It’d be cute if not for the fact her head had been replaced with a pig’s.
“Wynter says it’s Dyers.”
“After that scene at Dopie’s Diner? Of course it is.” Shay grits his teeth. “What a—” He doesn’t finish the sentence.
A sharp growl echoes around the library. “Are we in damn a farmyard? What’s with the oinking?!”
“Oh, it’s Sofia,” a voice behind me declares.
The strange syntax, cut-glass accent, and now a name clue me into the fact it’s the Sofia I ate Thanksgiving dinner with.
The Sofia Maxim expects me to befriend because Dmitri is in love with her.
I’m also supposed to get friendly with him. Maxim wants to position him in the Veronians with me…
If I hadn’t already had to kill a man to get anywhere in the old boys’ club, I’d be annoyed. As it stands, I think Wynter and I will need all the support we can get.
I pop my head up to see where she is, but the library’s massive so I don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of locating her.
“Quiet, please!” a librarian insists as another voice at my back asks, “Sofia?”
“This English girl. Or maybe Russian? Her curse words are all over the place. She haunts the labs. We’re not alone, at least. She heard the oinking too.”
Taking a peek behind me, I wince when I recognize Denver and Callan from philosophy, and Wynter. Both seem to be trying to comfort Denver, but she’s either crying or on the verge so it isn’t working.
Wynter shoots me puppy-dog eyes. I get it. This is so shitty.
“What do we do?”
That’s one of the reasons I love my BFF.
Shay has so much studying to do that he barely has room to breathe, but here he is, wading into someone else’s war. A move he’ll perform repeatedly because he’s just that great a guy.
“I’m not sure,” I muse.
There’s no getting away from the fact that the Veronians are pulling the bulk of Dyers's weight here. It’s not even like we have any opportunity to talk to someone “behind the scenes.” I highly doubt Alec would—
“Who’s Denver’s father again?”
“Huh? What?”
“Denver’s father. He’s a Veronian, remember?”
“I’ll kill him.”
When Zach Bradley practically flings himself to the floor at her side, I almost “awww.” Those two are so cute together. It sucks that Dyers thinks he can wreck them.
Denver sighs. “No, you won’t.”
“You said Uncle Declan’s team made a deal with Denver’s father, right?” I prod Shay.
“Yeah. For one of his clients.”
“Soooo, you’d be able to get his number?”
Hitching a shoulder, he snatches his phone and sends off a text. Tilting it my way once Uncle D starts typing.
Declan: Why do you want his contact details, Shay?
Shay: Victoria needs to talk to him
Declan: Why?
I snatch the phone.
Shay: Uncle D!!!! Don’t ask questions when you know the answer
“You know they keep him in the dark about the shadier side of their business,” Shay excuses.
“He should know about this.”
Declan: Ah. Victoria.
When he forwards over the contact details a few minutes later, I type:
Shay: Thanks, Uncle D!
Declan: We’ll expect explanations
Shay:
Shay: I’ll call you later, Dad
“You literally saw him doing drugs!”
The small outburst has me adding junkie to the list of adjectives describing Derek Dyers.
Callan murmurs, “You ever heard of BDSec?”
Shay and I share a look.
“Now isn’t the time to talk about a sex club, Callan.”
“Zach, my man. Read up on your friendly neighborhood porn menu. I said BDSec, not BDSM. It’s a white-hat collective!”
“How does he know about BDSec?” Shay hisses.
“I don’t know.” Both of us are well aware of who BDSec is. We also know that the leader out-and-out hates our Aunt Star. And her getting kidnapped and blackmailed a couple years ago hasn’t improved matters. “We need to keep a lid on this.”
As Shay nods, Callan continues, “I’ve long suspected it’s run by women. Just imagine if they got ahold of old Derek’s details. I tell you, the chaos will be delicious.”
I quickly turn in my chair, but it’s Shay who intrudes first by clearing his throat. “I hope you don’t think we’re eavesdropping—”
“We totally were,” I butt in, then I shoot Denver a sympathetic look. Honestly, I wouldn’t wish this BS on my worst enemy. Especially with how popular Zach is—having watched him play hockey now, and without understanding the bulk of the game, I get the hype. “I’m sorry about the picture.”
“Not like you helped him do it.” Denver grits her teeth. “Or did you? I don’t even know anymore.”
“We definitely didn’t. But we know someone better than BDSec.”
“You’ve heard of them,” Callan chimes in, an admiring gleam in his eye.
“Yes, we have.” I pat Denver’s shoulder. “Honestly, who we know… much better. Men like Dyers never know when to stop. Until it’s too late.”
Shay sneers. “He’s the pig, Denver.”
Zach grunts. “This is neat and all, but how are we going to make the fucker pay?”
“Your friends are right. You’re far too pretty for federal lockup,” I insert smoothly.
“Plus, you don’t want him to suffer less than the people he’s hurt.
If anything, it would be far more fun if he were the one wearing federal lockup orange and all those hopes of playing in the NHL burned and faded just like his whole life, no? ”
Zach sniffs. “Okay, that does sound good.” Denver clucks her tongue. “No one touches you. No one.”
Well, hello, Mr. “Sexy Hockey Alpha” pants.
Wanting to cheer Denver up, I catch her eye and fan my hand in front of my face. I figure it worked when she shares a goofy smile with me.
Shay draws Callan and Zach into a multipronged discussion about the best plan of attack, but both of us know this is too big for us.
It’s time to call in the heavy hitters, and frankly, Denver’s dad just doesn’t cut the mustard. Still, better to have his contact details than not.
As we walk out of the library, with all eyes on Denver, most of those eyes delighting in the girl’s misery, displaying outright glee at her discomfort, the depth of circulation is unwittingly revealed to me.
This has spread far and wide.
Fast.
It’s so bad that I feel relieved for her when we step into the bitterly cold day.
She shrieks, however, when Pecan, their friend, and his girlfriend rush up to us, skidding on an icy patch and nearly knocking us down like we’re bowling pins. But Denver’s screech morphs into a soggy laugh when he draws her in for a hug that she clearly needs.
Zach’s wrathful expression gentles as he takes in the scene, but that doesn’t diminish his fury.
Nor mine.
This is the last person Dyers will hurt at Oakwood on my watch.