The Dirty Ones

“I locked it when we left,” Hayes says, taking out the key.

“I didn’t see you lock it,” Connor says. “You were leading the way.”

“I have people, Connor,” Hayes snaps, just as we reach the top.

The three of us just accept that because Hayes tries the doorknob. It clicks back and forth, locked. Just like he said. And then he unlocks it with the key and opens the doors.

If Camille were here she’d say, “So someone else has the key. That’s comforting.”

But she’s not. And the rest of us don’t have Camille’s penchant for rudeness, so we stay quiet.

My bag is waiting near the entrance. I’d forgotten all about it. It feels like years ago that I packed that bag. “Do you need—” I start to ask Sofia, but I see she has packed a bag too. “Oh.”

She smiles at me. But it’s tight-lipped.

“I guess you were planning this, huh?”

“No more or less than you were, Kiera.”

Connor and Hayes are over at the drink cart, pretending not to hear us.

“Can we not make this weird?” I ask.

“Whatever are you talking about?” she quips.

“You know what I mean,” I whisper. “Staying the night here with Connor.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she says, not bothering to whisper. “I’m buddying up with Hayes.” She smiles at Hayes. He smiles back and raises his glass to her. “What we did was fun but there’s more fun to be had.”

I make one of those screwed-up faces at her.

“Come on,” she whispers. “Hayes brought us all here for a reason.”

“Yeah, to read the book and come up with a plan.”

Sofia huffs. “We didn’t get very far, did we? I mean, a few chapters of Connor reading out loud sent us right back into the past, didn’t it?”

I want to deny it, but I can’t.

She’s right.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – CONNOR

“Want a cigar?” Hayes asks.

“No, thanks,” I say. Something is off here between Kiera and Hayes. Has been the whole fucking day. Ever since he showed up at her house with that helicopter. And that story at dinner? How come they never told us about that guy they killed? I mean, for fuck’s sake. That’s something you share when you’re playing the same fucked-up game of show-and-tell, right?

Unless… unless we’re not playing the same game at all.

“I’m tired,” Kiera says. “I’m going to bed.”

“Me as well,” Sofia says. “See you all later.”

See you all later. Was that an invitation?

Sofia plays the quiet-demure part perfectly but I know her. It’s an act. She’s just as dirty as the rest of us. We did things together. Me. Her. Kiera. But we also did things together. At the parties we went to. All six of us.

“So what are you gonna do?” Hayes asks.

“About what?” I ask back, still thinking about the parties.

The first party we all went to was at Camille’s family estate. It was Christmas Eve and for some reason we were all together. Ah, I remember why now. Bennett’s parents were in Europe looking at colleges with his younger brother.

Mine were on the yacht in the middle of the South Pacific, halfway through an impromptu let’s-sail-around-the-world cruise. They took all my brothers and sisters, but for some reason I don’t recall now, I stayed behind.

Sofia’s father had just died, so her mother wasn’t doing Christmas.

Hayes’s parents were too old to give a shit about holidays anymore. Well on their way to becoming the eccentric recluses they are today. And Kiera… why was Kiera there?

“About Kiera,” Hayes says.

She certainly was out of place.

The DuPont family Christmas party was beyond extravagant. There was a champagne fountain in the center of the ballroom. Trickling waterfalls of Armand de Brignac flowed out like a river. I’ve seen my share of high-society parties and this one, for sure, was the most disgusting display of opulence I’ve ever witnessed. The gowns and jewels alone in that house were enough to fund small countries for a month. Beluga caviar—which I can’t tolerate for many reasons, and the taste of it doesn’t even make my top three—served on light-as-air crackers. Truffle cream canapés. A seven-course sit-down dinner of lobster bisque, prime rib, Florette baby leaf salad, rack of lamb…

“What about Kiera?” I ask.

The expense. It was so ludicrous to have a party like that when people all over the country were starving or homeless on Christmas Eve. Children would wake up with no presents. Hell, no tree. But that’s the thing, ya know? It’s so easy to forget about shit like that when you live in this world I was born into.

I remember we were sitting in a small seating area just off the ballroom. Kiera was wearing something very fancy. Something so not her. I don’t remember much about it, just that it was short and sparkly. Camille was wearing a long light-blue gown with many layers in the skirts. I remember that because of what came next. Sofia was in red. Sofia is always in red.