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He grimaces. “I think you get too emotionally-invested in people. You’ve been raised to reason away red flags in order to cope with them. You care way too much for the position you’re in.”
“If more people cared a little too much, we wouldn’t have to clean up so many messes.”
“You’re running a crime syndicate, Rowan. Care is a luxury. Blind trust results in bullet wounds.” He rubs his face and scratches his jaw. “You can strip down the rackets that cause the most direct harm, but in the end we’re not the good guys. We’re always going to need to break a few bones in this business, and you can’t rely on pretty promises from pretty strangers just because you fancy them.”
“What are you suggesting I do? Disappear like my parents? Leave Veleno to someone with more malice and less faith in humanity?”
His fist clenches as he drops it back into his lap and rises. “No. We need your good heart here if for nothing else than to keep the truly wretched things in check. Everything we once dreamed about is coming together. I just don’t want to lose you along the way, and I don’t think there’s a good enough reason to put our faith in Rosanera, or its chaotic little princess.” His expression darkens. “I don’t trust for a moment that she’s on anyone’s side but her own.”
“I can handle her.”
“Are you sure about that? Do I really need to remind you that you trusted your parents before we met?”
My chest tightens. “You don’t.”
“I’m worried.”
“You don’t have to be. Briar doesn’t concern you. Got it?”
Corbin lifts his hands and averts his eyes, murmuring, “Fine. If you say so…you’re the boss.”
Chapter 24
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The brightest characters carry the darkest secrets.
Briar
My head’s fuzzy. Everything’s warm.
No.
Hot. Everything’s hot. Too hot.
And I’m sad, but I can’t remember why, so maybe I’m not exactly…sad. This feels worse than simple sadness. The sensation weighing in my limbs and constricting my chest is heavy and tight and bad.
It is, in a word, overwhelming.
I can’t escape the burning crush. I want to cry, but Papa and Mama taught me that tears were weapons I shouldn’t spare on trivial matters. I…I miss them.
I suppose after the past few months of plotting, manipulation, work, work, and more work, it was bound to happen.
At some point, all any child really wants is their parents.
But they’re not here right now, are they?
No. They aren’t.
So that means I need to figure things out. On my own.
I squint blearily at a fuzzy ceiling, feel the slickness of sheets beneath my hands. One dim light glows behind me. One piercing trill sounds before a flutter streaks across the room.
Where am I?
What’s the last thing I remember?
It’s way too hot.
