“Nah, some things aren’t worth the cost.” I shrugged. “I’ve learned that the hard way. I told you that I’d kill you if you ever came back to the South Side. We’re not in the South Side right now, and I’m a man of my word—that still means something.”
A few hours later
“Brody—hey, come here.” Weber motioned to me and I walked over to the front of my cell.
“What?” I looked over my shoulder at Rourke, who was asleep and then glared at the man across from me.
“I got something set up. I talked with one of the guards—he’s going to help me, but I need something from you.” There was desperation in his eyes.
“I don’t do favors for you anymore.” I shook my head back and forth.
“You can collect the bounty, because as far as anyone knows—I’ll be dead.” He nodded quickly and looked at the guard that was approaching.
“Okay, I’m listening.” I narrowed my eyes.
“Just come into my cell tomorrow when everything goes down. I’ll tell you what you have to do.” He nodded again and walked away from the front of his cell as the guard reached us.
Interesting. Well, it sure as fuck wouldn’t hurt to have a million dollars in an account somewhere if we’re going to have to make a break for it.
Present day
“You let me think you killed that bastard…” Rourke shook his head in disbelief after I told him what really happened. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I couldn’t.” I chuckled under my breath. “If I would have told you that, then you wouldn’t have be
lieved I was capable of killing someone in cold blood. You wouldn’t have worked so hard to change Anabelle’s mind about her betrayal.”
“Well, you seemed pretty determined to kill Weber when we talked about it in jail.” Rourke narrowed his eyes at me.
“I was curious to know how you would react if we were forced to make that kind of choice with Anabelle. Truthfully, after she escaped—my darkness almost won. I think I really would have killed her, or at least I believed I could.” I nodded aimlessly.
“Any other secrets you’re hiding from me?” Rourke took a sip from his drink and eyed me suspiciously.
“No, but we’ll have to be cautious. If those two rich assholes found out that we didn’t really kill Weber, then there’s a damn good chance they’re going to want revenge.” I exhaled sharply. “If they were willing to pay to have Weber killed…”
“Hopefully that bastard enjoys his second chance at life and doesn’t decide to resurrect himself.” Rourke shrugged. “If he does, then we’ll handle business just like we always do.”
“Do you two gentlemen need anything?” One of the workers at Prescott Manor, a Latina woman wearing a maid’s uniform, walked into the study.
“Huh?” Rourke looked over his shoulder.
“Nah, we’re fine. Thanks.” I waved her off.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get used to having people around me all the time if we end up staying here.” He watched as the woman walked away. “It’s weird.”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll get used to it.”
“Maybe…” Rourke sighed and turned his head back towards me.
“I can certainly get used to this.” I raised my glass and took a sip, then puffed on my cigar. “Makes me feel like a fucking king.”
“Just make sure you remember that I’m not one of your fucking subjects—don’t keep anything else from me,” Rourke growled under his breath and took a sip of his drink.
“I won’t.” I winked at him. “We share everything—eventually.”
It was hard to believe that it was all over with Adrian Prescott, but I knew the real journey was just beginning. We might have escaped with our lives, but there were still scars—scars that were going to haunt us. Anabelle wasn’t going to easily recover from what happened to her father. It was definitely going to leave her in turmoil as she was able to start processing everything. We would be there by her side—always—and we would love her the best that we could.
I hoped it would be enough.