Page 119 of Allegiant

“I am. It’s soul deep. That’s what happens when you’re in the business we’re in.”

I stare at him, and my hand presses against my chest. It aches; everything hurts. “What business? Oh god, don’t tell me you work for The Firm too?”

He pauses, his eyes slamming into mine. “They told you what they are?”

“Yeah.” In a manner of speaking.

Larry grunts. “They must trust you, then. You don’t reveal that to just anyone.”

My world tilts on its axis once again. “Are you the fucking Firm? Tell me. I don’t know if I can handle it if you are.”

“Not The Firm. Something similar. And it was ages ago. I’m retired.”

I let out a long breath. “Oh, thank god. I’d have to stop being your friend if you were.”

He glares over at me. “We aren’t friends.”

“Yes. We are. Even if you were a bad man at one point. Just like Samson.”

He hesitates a moment, and I swipe at my leaking eyes once more.

“I think you’re being unfair. I’m not saying the Buckinghams are saints—far from it. But I’m cut from the same cloth as them. What we do, what they do, it’s not wrong. Most of what we do helps others. We give back.”

“Yes, but you also murder. You kill.”

“Only those who deserve it.”

I sit up abruptly. “Did I deserve it? Because they got it wrong, Larry. Like, big-time wrong.”

He runs a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, they did. Thinking about contacting my nephews to put a hit on the entire family for that.”

I slam a hand against my eyes, pressing until I see stars. “Oh god. Please don’t. No more death, no more killing. Just no more.”

“Fine. If you wish.”

“Yeah, I wish.”

The grumpy face he makes reminds me of Samson. So much. It has me crying all over again, which only makes Larry shift in his seat. Tears make him uncomfortable. I’m learning all sorts of truths recently.

“Come on, kid. What can I do to stop you blubbering?”

“Nothing. It’s terrible. Everything is terrible.”

Larry sighs. “What if I made you dinner?”

My stomach roils at the thought. “I can’t eat. I feel so nauseous, and I’m pretty sure anything you made would be inedible.”

Being heartbroken is making me almost as sour as Samson.

Not that he’s sour. Not really. Underneath it all, he’s quite sweet.

Fuck, how I miss him.

I shouldn’t, given all the lies. And, you know, the planned assassination. But I do.

I miss him terribly.

Larry harrumphs. “Just so you know, I was a good cook for a few years.”