37. Raleigh

CHAPTER 37

Raleigh

The next morning, I just want to see Clara. I had three whole emotional breakdowns yesterday, and after a full night’s sleep in Derrick’s arms and my own bed, I think I’m ready for a fourth. But I run into Thomas on my way to his room, and he warns me she’ll probably be in bed until late into the day.

“She was having a lot of fun traveling, but it still took something out of her,” he tells me, his own eyes tired but content. “Jet-lag from Europe is one thing, but being nearly five months pregnant is entirely another.”

So I let my best friend sleep and walk with Derrick and my brother downstairs. Thomas leaves us to grab files from his study, and we continue to the meeting room, which we reach before anyone else but Iris and Paul. Iris is on the left of the head of the table, with Paul beside her, which surprises me until Iris says,

“You’re across from me today.”

Except… that puts me to the right of the head of the table. I’m meant to sit at Thomas’s right ?

I can’t believe this. I’m sitting at the table. The table, the one reserved for Thomas’s meetings with his generals and Iris to discuss business. And not only am I here, but I’m on Thomas’s right side, and Derrick is in the chair on my right.

I’m not sure which of us is more shocked.

Iris doesn’t look put out by the change in seating arrangements. It’s only temporary, after all. What she does look put out by is Derrick’s presence. She hasn’t stopped watching him since we entered the room, her black eyes sharper than any hawk’s as she glares at him over the edge of her teacup.

“Is that assam?” Derrick asks Iris, the friendly confidence in his voice knocking loudly on her icy walls.

“Mm,” is all Iris says, with mauve lips pressed into a perfect line. She might be happy with me now, but it will probably take years for her to warm up to Derrick.

So, Derrick: zero. Iris: one?

Paul, for his part, looks mildly amused by this twist of fate. Maybe he sees echoes of his own romantic difficulties in us, loving someone on the opposite side of the line.

But of course, we don’t have to impress only Thomas, Iris, and Paul. Thomas’s generals file in with their mugs of black coffee, and every one of them stares openly as they settle into their chairs. Many of them were personally involved in the raid that went wrong when Derrick’s cops turned on our people. None of them dare to look at me, but I have to wonder what they think of my choice to bring him here, to love him, to bear his child.

Whatever they think, it won’t change my mind. Under the table, I plant my hand possessively on Derrick’s thigh. He looks at me with a question in his blue eyes, and I just hold his gaze. After a moment, his lips twitch in a half smile, realizing what I’m doing.

Showing off, for everyone at this table, how obsessed I am with him.

His own hand slides over my thigh, high as it can go, and squeezes.

At that moment, Thomas enters the room. To my delight, Derrick doesn’t let me go or even try to hide that he’s holding onto me under the table. I feel Thomas’s gaze pass over us, cool, and then move on.

Thomas: zero. Derrick: one.

Thomas clears his throat as he sits beside me. This is the only sign he needs to give that the meeting has begun. His generals all sit more upright in their seats, and I feel my own back straighten in response. My heart is pounding so hard I wonder if everyone in this room can hear it.

I’ve only ever dared to imagine sitting at this table, never truly believing it would become a reality. I grew up with the fate of a strategic marriage hanging over my head, and when that future expired I felt lost, alone, and without purpose. It’s strange what moments solidify themselves into things that I want. I stood on the porch of a farmhouse and realized I wanted to be there always. Now I’m sitting at the Warwick strategy table and realizing I’ve always wanted this privilege.

Now I just have to prove I deserve it.

“I’ve reviewed all the information we’ve managed to collect on Silver,” Thomas begins, “except there isn’t a lot of it. We don’t know his true identity, the address he operates out of, or even his main goal.”

“His main goal is to kill me,” Derrick says.

Every hostile eye at the table turns on him. Derrick smiles pleasantly back, and I’d laugh if the atmosphere wasn’t quite so tense.

I clear my throat. “He’s looking for revenge against the people he believes are responsible for killing Morgan Speare, who he claims is his father. He drives a shitty old car- a Buick-”

“A 1995 Buick LeSabre, gray,” Derrick supplies.

“-that he potentially got from one of his goons, who stole it from his girlfriend, who should really dump him for that behavior, btw. An Emma Clarke. We have her address.”

“And the license plate of the vehicle,” Derrick finishes. “Which I’m sure my department has been keeping track of since the high-speed chase.”

Thomas is looking at me like I’ve grown two extra heads. Iris’s most judgmental eyebrow is raised as high as it will go, but there’s a twinkle of amusement, maybe even pride, in her eyes that makes my chest feel warm.

“It sounds like you don’t need my help with this,” Thomas says coolly to Derrick. “Would our dear sheriff like to get back to work so he can catch this violent criminal?”

“Alas,” Derrick says, putting a hand to his chest and smiling like one of his goddamn campaign posters. “I prefer to let mafia business remain mafia business nowadays. Silver claims he wants revenge against the people who killed his father. I didn’t actually have anything to do with that, now did I?”

Thomas: zero. Derrick: two.

I roll my eyes. God, I might have stuck my neck out for this incredible man, but that doesn’t make him invincible! If he keeps shooting his mouth off at this table, one of our generals is going to take him out back and shoot him the next time I blink.

“I was in that room too,” I remind them both. “Surely I deserve some payback for the trauma I endured from being held captive?”

Yeah, that’s right, I can be part of this pissing contest too.

Derrick’s hand squeezes my thigh again beneath the table, and the set of his jaw tells me he’s not forgotten his own anger against Silver.

Thomas’s expression darkens. “What would you prefer be done?” he asks.

Since it’s revenge I’ve asked for, I’m the one who gets to decide Silver’s punishment. Except I don’t think anyone here is going to like what I have to say.

“I want to meet with him,” I say. “At Cooper’s. I’ll bring two bodyguards, just like he always does, and we’ll revisit the topic of our previous discussion. If he doesn’t agree to pay our tithe, we kill him, right then and there.”

In some ways, this isn’t about giving Silver one last chance. The voyeurs who ruined my first time died in the house under Iris’s gun, and while I can still hold him responsible for their actions if I want, I find that it doesn’t matter so much to me anymore. This is about giving myself a chance to face Silver on even footing at last. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder what I could’ve said differently to get him to listen to me or take me seriously. Maybe, after today, I’ll find out nothing I tried would have made a difference. But I need to know.

“Cooper’s is neutral territory,” Graham, one of the generals, protests.

“Not anymore,” I counter. “That was a previous arrangement with Morgan Speare, and he’s dead now. This is a new generation we’re talking about, and he considers the slate wiped clean, so I will too.”

Thomas nods. “We’ll do the meeting.”

A grin splits my face- then evaporates when he says, “But I’ll lead it. You’re not going face-to-face with him again.”

“The fuck I’m not!” I burst out.

“Raleigh-”

“We wouldn’t even be talking about this guy if it weren’t for me,” I say. “He hasn’t declared war on us. Sure he exists on our territory without paying tithes, but have we even sent him an official cease and desist? No! This is personal. He wronged me , and I need to be the one to tell him he can pay up or die.” My throat is closing as I speak, but I force the last words out. “Otherwise, I’m still just your property.”

Anyone else might look like they’ve been slapped, but the only sign of how low that blow went is a twinge in Thomas’s jaw. The silence at the table is thick enough to cut with a steak knife, and in it, I hear echoes of his apology from last night. Did he really mean any of it? Or will old habits refuse to die?

For a moment, I think my words will be labeled as a tantrum and I’ll be dismissed. But, slowly, Thomas finally nods.

“Very well, then. He’ll pay up, or he’ll die. You’re sure you only want two bodyguards?”

My chest feels so light I’m afraid I’ll float away. “Seems fair.” Not to mention that if we bring in more people, Silver could decide against the meeting, and slip away like smoke once again.

“And what are you if not fair?” Thomas quips, and I smirk. “Who do you want?”

“Iris,” I say immediately, earning a sharp smile from her. “And-”

“I’m coming too,” Derrick says immediately.

As if I had anyone else on my mind.

Thomas’s eyes narrow on him a little, but this time, he remains silent. “All right then. That’s settled. We’ll contact Silver for a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. Meeting adjourned.”

As the generals all stand and slowly file out of the room, Thomas settles back in his chair, letting out a long-suffering sigh that he saves just for me and my worst troublemaking. “I’m going back to Amsterdam,” he jokes dryly. “And if you live through this, you can be the one to answer all these threat letters from London.”

“I don’t do paperwork,” I say, with a toss of my head.