Page 12 of Last Man Standing

“Nobody! What the fuck do you think this is? Story time? I worked that last job for Richard so the secret would stay a secret. I don’t gossip about this shit to any old dickhead in town.”

“You said he had a file written up, right?” Nova’s voice is the gentle contrast to Lincoln’s rage. Her brain is already in problem-solving mode, while his is still spinning out. “You said Richard threatened to drop the file with the Feds if you refused to take the job.” She brings her eyes across to mine. “What happened to the file after he died? Who else had access?” Then she looks down at Scarlett. “When he died, and the authorities seized his home, is it possible someone, on either side of this war, found it?”

“There was no actual, literal file,” I answer. “Not as far as I was aware. Richard considered me one of his favorite soldiers, and when he was in a good mood, he’d get chatty. With me,” I clarify, bringing my focus back down to Scarlett. “The way he treated your brother was about the standard he treated everyone else. He didn’t trust them, and he enjoyed being an asshole. He enjoyed cruelty.”

“But so did you,” Nova murmurs shakily. “You liked being mean.”

“Yep.” I flash the same kind of smile I showed her inside Richard’s home. “I allowed my reputation to precede me. I allowed folks to fear me, long before we ever met in person. Then I followed through with my threats, because surviving in that world meant being the hunter, not the prey.”

“Were you cruel to survive?” Scarlett questions quietly. “Or because you liked it?”

“Little bit of A.” I smirk. “Little bit of B. I was good at what I did, and with every job I completed for Richard, the more trust I secured. I figure he considered us the same. Perhaps I reminded him of himself, but fifty years younger.”

“That tracks,” Lincoln sneers. “Seeing as how you’re his grandson. Cruelty is a personality trait passed through DNA just as easily as kindness and decency.”

“Kumbaya, motherfucker. You’ll get over it. But before you do, maybe you should remember how lucky you are to have Richard’s protégé right here, standing on your side of the battle lines. There was no file.” I bring my eyes back down to Scarlett and wonder how the fuck the same gene pool spat out one seriously whiny bitch… and her. “He considered files, digital or physical, a liability in the event his home or systems were breached, and he had a habit of ordering old files destroyed unless they served his purpose. Secrets don’t remain secrets if they’re available to anyone who knows how to ram a door or scale a firewall.” I bring my hand up and tap my temple. “He stored all the good shit up here in his head. If he needed to drop a file on the FBI’s doorstep, he would’ve compiled it there and then. But don’t fool yourself into thinking he was some kind of philanthropist. He never intended to give that shit away.” I swing my focus across to Lincoln. “He lied to you, bruh. And you walked into his world willingly. But I guess it worked out, since Nova’s a total babe.”

His face burns an angry red. “Listen here⁠—”

“Cute,” Nova drawls. “But you’re proving why women rarely invite men into the important conversations.” She points straight at her man. “You’re flying on rage and adrenaline.” Then at me. “And you’re swinging your dick around and reminding us why you have no friends.”

My smile falls away to a scowl.

Nova lowers her hand and fingers the corner of the note. “Someone knows what happened, Richard’s dead, and if we take our pet rock at his word, they didn’t get their information from those hypothetical files.”

“I don’t know who it could be.” Scarlett picks up her gel pen again and goes back to drawing in her book. “But I can guess what they want.”

“Money,” I insert gruffly. “It makes the world go round. If this person was on the side of justice for a small-dick woman-beater, they’d take what they know to the cops. If they wanted a duel in the yard, ya know, to feel like a badass, they’d approach Lincoln, not Scarlett. They chose to approach Roy’s victim. They chose to scare her, send her packing, and⁠—”

“Don’t call me a victim.” She slams her book shut and straightens her back. Through fierce eyes, she burns me where I stand and lifts her chin. Royalty. “I took back my power. He knocked me down, but then I got up again.”

“Sure, Princess. And I love a good women’s empowerment speech just as much as the next guy. But you’re focusing on the wrong thing.”

“No, I’m not.” She rises from her stool and rolls her shoulders back. So haughty and regal. So disdainful and untouchable. “Maybe you’d like to focus on cruelty and duels between men. I’d rather focus on the fact that Roy is dead. I am not. We were stuck in a two-person war, and at its conclusion, I was the last man standing.” She flattens her lips and stares down her nose at me. “So to speak.” Giving me her back—brave, brave girl—she meets her brother’s eyes and hardens her voice. “The note didn’t mention you, nor was it delivered to you. I like to believe this person doesn’t know as much as they think they know. My neighbor’s keeping an eye on my mail, so if another letter comes, I’ll know about it. In the meantime…” She steals Nova’s mostly full coffee and starts toward the door. “I’m going for a walk. I want some fresh air.”

5

SCARLETT

THE CARDINALS

They whisper when I’m not in the same room.

They plan. Conspire. Plot.

For five torturously long days after I arrive at my brother’s house, they chatter and waste their damn time, since we have absolutely no clue who left that note at my door, my neighbor hasn’t called to tell me another has arrived, and, well… the world is still spinning, just like it always has.

“They say red cardinals represent love and vitality.” Nova wanders along the edges of her property alongside me, her shoulder bumping mine with every second or third step we take.

As I glance up from the frozen grass beneath my feet, I follow her lifted chin toward a family of bright red birds taking turns shooting from the branches of a tall tree to a small berry bush fighting for its life in the winter cold.

“They also represent tenacity. Devotion. Bravery.” She peeks across with a smile. “Hope. After my mom and dad died, I’d come out and sit on my back porch for hours at a time. Sometimes nothing happened. Nothing except the tears I didn’t want my brother to see.” She wraps her arm around mine, cinching us close together. “Other times, cardinals would visit. The females are usually a muted brown. Not as vibrant. But the males are always so bright. The red is like…” She considers for a beat, then settles on, “Fire. Back then, I was angry. Confused. Why even give me parents if they were gonna die so young, ya know? Why bring me and my brother into this world, if every day was gonna hurt as much as it did?”

“Losing your parents must’ve been really awful.” I think of my parents, still alive, still healthy and happy and together. Then I think of my brother… he finally found his cardinal mate. “Life can really suck sometimes.”

Snickering, she drops her head forward and nods. “Yep. Different sucks, different hells. For a long time, I wondered why the universe was picking on me. I wasn’t a bad person. I never hurt anybody. I didn’t deserve that craziness.”

“No, you didn⁠—”