Perfect.
“Speak.” King lays back in his dad’s leather chair and holds his hands behind his head, and it just feels strange, all of the bosses, the most powerful men I’ve ever known looking to King, someone so very young—for answers.
Maybe that’s part of it, though?
I blow out a breath. “Okay look, I just think that maybe this is more than someone set off a bomb—what if it’s about you going into leadership at your age? No offense to the older guys in here.”
Nixon literally growls.
“But you’re taking up this position because of your bloodline, right? So, what if the whole point was because someone wasn’t happy with letting you have that, right? What if they got in… shit, I don’t know, an argument with your father and then decided to take things into their own hands? What if it’s not an enemy from outside but in?”
The room goes still.
Phoenix is the first to move. He walks over to King’s desk and ruffles through some black folders, scarier than caressing a sharp blade those black folders. “If that’s the case… then we’re all suspects.”
“Oh good, that was helpful. Thank you so very much, Roman!” Junior barks. “Are you kidding me right now? Why would any of us want to hurt our own? Our blood?”
“It makes no sense,” Ash agrees. “We aren’t that dumb!”
“Speak for yourself.” Maksim shows a slight grin while Valerian smacks him on the back of the head and pinches his own nose, muttering a curse. “What?” Maksim rubs the back of his head.
The rest of the bosses watch and then do something that makes me want to crumple onto the floor.
“Congratulations,” Andrei finally says. “Your new job, along with Roman,” I hate that he said my name. “Find who infiltrated, find who wants Tex dead, or who wants the powers to exchange hands.” He starts walking off. “The rest of the bosses are also suspect, so…” He shrugs. “Interview us, check us out, make sure we’re true to our bloodlines.” He shares expressions with Chase, Nixon, Sergio—everyone.
And they all slowly nod.
Chase walks by Ash and puts a hand on his shoulder. “You said you wanted to lead, so help him fucking lead.”
And that is literally it.
The bosses, the made men—everyone leaves but me, Tank, Ash, Maksim, Valerian, Junior, and King.
I don’t even know what to say as the door clicks shut other than I don’t belong in that room, and I have no clue how to proceed with everything going down, so I simply hold out my hand to Valerian.
He very kindly gives me a shot of vodka that I toss back, only for him to hand me one more.
“Well done.” King stands. “But this isn’t a fucking science project. I don’t have a clue where to start other than what the FBI told me, which isn’t much.”
“What did they say?” Tank steps forward.
King runs his hands through his hair. “They said that it was suspicious, so super helpful like I said. We have enemies, yes, but nothing to the point of bombings other than what we’ve already eliminated in the past, which all leads back to Del’s dead father.”
I jerk my head up. “And we confirmed he was blown to bits?”
“Bits and bits and bits.” Maksim laughs and then realizes nobody’s joining him. “What? It was funny.”
“Not now,” Junior grumbles.
“Not to mention,” King nearly growls, “that one of you wants me dead, so that’s also not helpful!”
“Raise your hand if you’ve ever wanted King dead.” Maksim laughs as everyone raises their hand then shrugs. “Bro, like you’re such a dick sometimes.”
Junior laughs. “Remember that one time he backed into your Ducati because you got the same color as him, and it pissed him off?”
“Such a dick move.” Ash shakes his head. “And that one time he said he was going to be king because his name was King, and I almost drowned him?”
“Ah, I miss our Fourth of July parties,” Tank adds.
Valerian bursts out laughing. “Wait, didn’t I put fireworks in his room last year?”
“It’s good Sergio is kind of a doctor,” Tank adds in.
“Kind of?” I blurt.
Ash just shrugs. “You know, some medical school but enough.”
“Enough? Is it, though? What the hell is wrong with you people?”
“Many things.” Maksim nods. “Many things.”
I kick the table gaining everyone’s attention. “I’m just a fucking foot soldier. What the hell do you want me to do?” I turn toward King. “What the hell do you want from me?”
He’s very quiet. I don’t like it. He moves around his desk and says, “Everything.”
“Everything,” I repeat the word, taste it on my tongue, and don’t like it. “My allegiance, my soul?”
“Everything,” he repeats, and within seconds I have every single one of those guys moving toward me.
Maksim pulls out a knife.
Tank grabs a bottle of whiskey.
And I’m getting shoved to the ground, whiskey poured over my head like I’m being baptized.
My hand gets grabbed… my right hand.
A match is lit.
“As burns this saint, so burns my soul,” Maksim says.
The rest of the guys repeat it.
The match appears in front of my eyes; I can barely breathe. I don’t know what to do, how to respond to this. I know what’s happening, but I feel too sick to even speak.
A patron saint on a card appears in front of me and burns from the match, then drops to the floor as a slice goes across my palm.
“Say it.” King shoves my face down into the flames; they’re so close the burn makes me want to panic. “Say it now.”
“As burns this saint, so burns my soul.”
The saint burns to ashes. King picks them up and sprinkles them over my head, then grabs me by the ear, whispering in it, “If you ever betray us, that will be your end. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I lick my lips.
I finally understand.
I was never truly a made man in Del’s Family. That was a fucking mockery compared to what I just got put through.
I’m reborn.
New.
And I know that no matter what—I will now never be hers, I get it now. Just the way that she gets it; she’s his. My allegiance now is deeper than blood. My life, it isn’t my own; it never was. I just thought I was normal, but this was what I wanted. I wanted this.
And now I have it.
Valerian pulls me to my feet and kisses each cheek. Ash follows. Junior, Tank, and finally King.
He puts his hands on my cheeks and presses deep. “Who do you belong to?”
“The Family,” I reply, unable to keep my voice from shaking but knowing that anyone in my position would feel the same way. This is madness. This is also my new future. My new normal.
“What we do,” he says, looking into my eyes, “will always be for the Family, no matter what.”
“No matter what,” the guys say in unison, and it occurs to me to wonder who really is in charge here? Who has been in charge for the last few years? The rest of the bosses are out drinking and hanging out in the house, but these guys? They look ready for blood.