It’s a valid inquiry—I just hate that I echoed Parker.
“No,” Tomas replies, ignoring the fact that the entire room exhales with relief. “Not even mentally. She was ready for it.”
“Good,” I say with a nod. “And your sister?”
Tomas closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “She didn’t get hurt, but she found our father dead. I don’t think she’s ever going to recover from that.” He pauses to open his eyes and plays with the ice in his glass. “She refuses to leave her room right now.”
“I don’t blame her. It’s rough,” Mikhail comments.
And while we’re mostly tolerating the presence of our late friend’s little brother, we all nod in agreement. Because it’s true.
This shit is rough.
I swallow hard as I whisper, “It could happen again. It’s probably the Persian trying to get us to turn on each other or to weaken our defenses.”
“Kill all the fathers,” Parker states coldly. “It would work if there weren’t heirs to each throne, wouldn’t it?”
“I suppose you can speak for yourself,” I retort.
He fixes me with a curious glance. “You’re the one who went back home. I thought you kissed your dad and made up for everything?” He snorts. “You’re the one who always fucking complained about him disowning you while you were living with me.”
“I only did it to protect my nana. You would do the same thing if you cared about anyone.”
He sneers as he says, “I care about plenty of people.”
“You care about jack shit other than yourself, punk.”
Tomas pushes my knee. “All right, that’s enough.”
“What?” I snap. “He fucking started it.”
“You two are acting like idiots. Just get the fuck over it.”
Parker rolls his eyes, cradling his glass that he’s hardly sipped. It’s not beyond me to recognize that we’re both stressed, but this is getting out of hand. Something has to give.
“Whatever,” I sigh. “What are we doing next?”
Tomas leans forward and sets his drink down. “I’ll be the sober one from now on.”
Parker blinks rapidly while I rub my eyes.
Mikhail fingers his right ear and says, “Come again?”
“I’m leaving the dope and the shit behind,” Tomas states. “I have to keep my head clear, so I’ll be sober from here on out. You can count on me.”
After a moment of silence, I nod. “It’s probably best that we have one person who’s always capable of logical thought.”
“And you’re right. It might happen again. We have to prepare for that.”
“Security measures?”
He shakes his head. “That isn’t going to do much of shit with the Persian. He seems to have eyes and ears on the inside. Adelaide got a good look at one of his thugs.”
“Enough for a sketch?” Parker inquires. “I know a guy with a talented hand.”
“That would be perfect,” Tomas says. “We should get that going.”
I nod and pluck at one of the buttons on my beige letterman cardigan. “Do we really want to stick around for all this shit?”