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Pinkie promises are her new thing. Pinkie promise you’ll tell me my favourite story. Pinkie promise we can have nuggets for tea. Pinkie promise that you’ll always stay with me, Mummy. I swallow down the huge lump in my throat.
Stephanie hooks her finger around Ivy’s tiny one to seal their deal. “Pinkie promise.”
“Come on,” Hale says, steering Ivy away. “We better get back to singing.”
He knows our priority is to protect Ivy above anything. As long as he’s with her, she’s safe. He’ll rip off anyone’s head who comes close to her or looks at her in the wrong way.
“Wine?” I offer, trying to act normal as Stephanie follows me to the kitchen.
“Red, if you have it,” she says.
“Always,” I say, picking an expensive bottle from the rack and pouring her a generous glass.
“How did the funeral go?” Stephanie asks, keeping her tone measured, but her eyes stay fixed on me.
“There was…” I pause. “A problem.”
“A problem?”
Hale and I rehearsed our story a few times.
“Our location was compromised,” I lie. “I couldn’t kill him there. It’d have been too obvious, plus there were paparazzi.” I pour myself a glass. “But I made contact and introductions, so I gained his trust.”
Killing Sebastian would have made my life easier. That was my mission, and it’s only the second time I’ve failed. Callen was the first. Why do the Dukes keep causing issues? If I was spiritual, I’d hypothesise that Seb and Callen’s lives were spared to bring me and Ivy back together. However, I learned long ago that there’s no reason behind why things happen. Terrible things happen to good people. That’s just the way this shitty world works.
She sips her wine thoughtfully. “That’s unlike you.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“I also heard there was a disturbance at the Bexley mansion.” She raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Care to elaborate on what happened there this afternoon?”
Below the counter, there’s a row of knives ready. I also have a gun tucked into my boot, so I could take her out if I have to.
“Everything was fine when we left.” I bluff. I’ve given her no reason not to trust me. We’ve spent years working together. She knows the safety of my family rests on the Killers Club, so she shouldn’t question that I’d do anything to jeopardise it. “Ivy had a fun visit.”
My hands stray to the knives, hidden from her view.
Stephanie places her glass down hard and says, “I know you know about Ivy.”
CHAPTER 14
FREDDIE
Unable to stay in the hotel room alone for long, I sneak out undetected. Drizzle hits my face as I stroll through the streets. I keep my head down, but I’m confident I’m not being followed.
London is starting to come alive for the evening. Drunken revellers stumble past. Women in scant clothing rely on their beer jackets to keep them warm and black cabs zip by. I pass a row of takeaway shops that are still quiet but will be busy with punters in a few hours.
I didn’t want to risk taking public transport, so it’s been a long walk, but I’ve finally reached my destination. The cemetery is closed, but there’s a gap in the fence that’s easy to slip through. I’m not the only one who uses it. Teenagers gather to drink lukewarm bottles of cider, and the homeless sometimes sleep amongst the dead. But this is one of the few places that helps me think.
I navigate my way through the sea of tombstones and overgrown grass. I always make a stop on my way, passing Tilly’s grave. No florists are open at night, so I stole a few flowers from bouquets laid on overflowing graves and put them down gently. I never come empty-handed. Callen doesn’t visit. He doesn’t see the point. That, or it’s just too painful.
After murmuring farewell, I continue up a muddy, familiar path to a quiet spot underneath the trees where two identical grey headstones sit. Ivy and Daisy Penrose. I sit on a bench opposite them. Two empty graves and two lives changed forever.
Over the years, I’ve spent countless hours here, sitting and contemplating life, but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Everything has changed: Ivy hates me, Daisy is alive, and the Dukes aren’t mine anymore. Handing leadership to Seb was the right decision. He doesn’t believe in himself, but he has sound judgment. More importantly, he’s a good man. Unlike me.
The skyline twinkles on the horizon. You can’t see the stars because of light pollution, but I imagine they’re sparkling above. I remember everyone I’ve lost because of my stupid, reckless decisions. My mum, my dad, my sister, and now the woman I love.
My phone vibrating in my suit pocket brings me out of my reverie. I check the screen. No caller ID, likely a spam caller. I ignore it. Seconds later, it rings again.
