“I’ll take care of it.”
He shook his head and walked down the stoop. I watched him shove his hands in his pockets and amble down the street like he was another local with nothing to do but go for a stroll on a nice, comfortable evening. Hedeon had that quality about him, a strange ability to blend in with his surroundings. It made him extra dangerous.
I shut the door and turned, rubbing my temples. Cora came downstairs as I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a drink.
“I knew you did something,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, “but I didn’t realize you did that.”
I slugged back my whiskey then looked at her. “I don’t need it from you, too.”
“How many people died in that fire, Reid?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t care.”
Her jaw clenched. “Really? That’s how you want to play this?”
“What do you want me to say? I went out to kill that little fuck for what he did, and I tried to make it look like an accident. I tried to thread the fucking needle and I missed the mark by this goddamn much.” I pinched my thumb and forefinger together.
“There could’ve been innocent people in there.”
“Nobody hanging around with that asshole is innocent.”
“Alex was innocent. And he was—”
“Your friend was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s not the same thing.”
“It’s exactly the same thing.” She stepped toward me, fire in her eyes.
“What do you want from me, huh? You want me to be something I’m not?”
“I want you to be better.”
I sucked in a breath, downed another whiskey, and stared at her. I wanted to be better too, but I was being pushed it every direction—by her, by Hedeon, by the city itself. And Jarvis was still out there, despite my best efforts, still breathing, still talking shit, still causing problems.
There was one clear solution, and I knew she wouldn’t like it.
“All right then,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could. “You want me to be better? How about you come and make sure that I am.”
She frowned slightly. “What are you talking about?”
“You heard Hedeon, right? I have to find Jarvis and finish him off. I’m saying, how about you come along and make sure nothing bad happens.”
She opened her mouth and I watched the fury slowly drain away, replaced by surprise—and fear.
I didn’t want to scare her. That wasn’t my intention. I had a feeling Jarvis was half dead already, and I doubted he’d have anyone around him at this point, not after that fire, not after the shooting in the street. I’d killed too many of his guys, and he was way too weak at this point to keep more around.
It would be dangerous, but not that dangerous.
“You want me to come with you to murder someone. That would make me an accomplice.”
“Darling, you’re married to me. You’re already an accomplice.”
“There’s a difference between being married and being at the scene of the crime.”
I spread my hands. “Your choice. You can come and make sure I take care of our problem, or you can trust me. What do you want?”
I watched her take a couple deep breaths, trying to calm herself, and a strange look came over her face. It was determination and anger and—something else, something I couldn’t quite define. She took a step toward me.
“Fine,” she said, almost spitting out the word. “I’ll come with you. But whatever happens, it’s on you.”
I shrugged and gestured with my glass back toward the staircase. “Better go get yourself ready, darling wife. We’re leaving for the party in an hour.”
She made a face, but turned and left the kitchen.
I stared at the whiskey. I decided against more, even if I desperately wanted it.* * *I parked outside of a rundown apartment complex a half hour north of the city. High brick walls, utilitarian windows, balconies with black railings—the place looked like it was half-rotting and filled with rats. I parked in the lot and looked over at Cora. She frowned out the window then looked at me.
“Where are we right now?”
“Glenside,” I said.
“Never heard of it.”
“Small town. Kind of cute.” I opened the door. “Not that you could tell by this place.”
She let out a breath and followed me into the night. The bushes were well kept and the grass was cut short, which meant the building was properly managed at least, but the vestibule smelled musty and the carpet was old, dark blue, and stained. I walked to the elevators, hit the call button, waited longer than I liked to admit, then gave up and took the stairs to the third floor. Cora trailed behind me, silent and tense.
Our footsteps echoed up the concrete stairwell as we climbed. I felt out of my element, almost as though leaving Philadelphia County and coming to a surrounding suburb threw me off my game. I didn’t know the cops here, didn’t know the layout of the streets, but none of that mattered. Jarvis was holed up in apartment 36, allegedly alone, and that was all I cared about.