Page 109 of The Company

“They killed him too?” she squeaks out. “The Company?”

“James, stop,” I say. “Just stop. She doesn’t need to hear this.”

“She does, Harper. She really needs to hear this.” He looks back at Sasha and even though his words are harsh, his voice is soft. “They killed him, Smurf. But hey.” He bends down and tips her lowered chin up with a fingertip. “I told you, Merc is busy doing something important, right?”

“He’s killing that senator?”

“I’m not sure he’s doing that right now, but believe me, he’s gonna get them back.” And then James looks at me. “And while he takes care of that end in his way, the three of us will take care of this end in our way. But I need your trust, girls. I need your trust. I can’t do any of this unless you trust me because I can’t do any of this alone.”

I swallow hard and look him in the eye. “Why should we trust you? You’ve done their dirty work for them your whole life.”

James doesn’t even blink. Like he’s used to the insult. He’s been called a killer so much, that label has no meaning to him anymore. “Because they took my baby sister. My mother sold out my baby sister and they took her away. And someone needs to pay for this shit, Harper. Someone needs to stand the fuck up and say enough. And maybe we’re not much. One man, one woman, and one kid. But I’m tired of waiting for that someone to come along and make things right. We might as well put a bullet in our own heads right the fuck now because we are already dead.” He stops to make sure this is sinking in. Both Sasha and I are shaking now, so yes, his shock tactic is working.

“We’re already dead except for you, Lionfish. Sasha and I have hits on our heads. There’s no way we’re gonna be allowed to live. But even if we did make it, even if I did make it out and I was allowed to keep what was already mine”—he takes the hand Sasha is not holding and gives me a comforting squeeze—“what kind of future will we have if our daughter is sold? What kind of future will I have if they make an example of you? Because there’s no fucking way on this earth that I would let them take my child, girl or boy. That’s never gonna happen. What kind of life is that? What kind of man lets this happen? What kind of coward lets his own family be sold off or killed?”

“That’s not any kind of life I want, James,” Sasha says. All her tears are gone now. Her expression is the opposite of the one she was wearing a few minutes ago. That sad and lost child has disappeared.

And I suddenly feel like I’m looking in the mirror. Because the expression on her face is the same as mine.

Cold killer.

The desert wind is whipping my hair around and the temperature outside the shade of the gigantic dinosaur is at least one hundred ten. But my skin shivers from the cold within.

Like the reptile sheltering us, our blood runs cold.

We’re all cold here.