Archer’s jaw tenses and I put my hand on his because I know damn well he’s about to make a scene.
“It’s fine,” I whisper. “Really.”
“Why don’t you kill him?” Seven blurts out, none of which surprising any of us.
Leo chuckles. “That’s what a friend told me to do, too.” He shoots a quick glance my direction.
Seven shrugs. “We could do it right now. I don’t have anything going on. We could be done in an hour. Two, tops. Tell me his name.”
“Seven,” Ivy snaps. “Seriously? Do you have no decorum?”
“I’m going to be real with you, baby sis. I have no idea what that means.” Seven stares across the table at her. “Is that, like, a made-up word or something? You trying to act all smart? Make me look stupid? Is that what this is about? The fuck do you know about decorations.”
Ivy doesn’t soften her glare as she keeps her eyes on Seven. “Decorum.”
“Potato, potahto.”
“Can you stop talking about murder at the dinner table?” Ivy asks Seven.
“They can talk about it but I can’t? How is that fair?” Seven pouts.
“When was anyone else talking about murder?”
Leo stands abruptly, holding his finger out to silence us. “I have to take this. Shut up for a second, guys.” He puts the phone to his ear, his gaze frantically scanning at nothing in particular. “What do you mean? You can’t be serious. What the fuck? How? When? Why am I just now getting a call? Are you fucking serious? I swear to everything holy, if this is some sick prank, I will have your— Yes, yes, I understand. Okay. I’ll be right there.”
Archer remains unfazed in his spot next to me, not wanting to give in that he’s curious in the slightest at what that mighthave been about, but the rest of us, we’re eagerly waiting for Leo to give us any indication of what’s going on.
Leo lowers his arm and for the first time since I’ve known him, he seems truly fucking haunted. “The casino was robbed.”
“Isn’t that what insurance is for?” Seven asks a pretty valid question.
“Not for what I had hidden underneath.” Leo takes a deep breath, his eyes lingering on Archer, who still won’t look in his direction. “Even still, you won’t help me?”
Archer blinks a few times as if he’s contemplating his response carefully, and I hate that I can already tell what is about to come out of his mouth isn’t going to go over well, not with Leo, who clearly needs him. “I told you not to mess with the diamonds. I told you not to mess with the art.” Archer rises from his seat, finally meeting Leo’s desperate gaze. “I told you not to mess with the jewelry, the cars, the guns. What else, Leo? You never listen to me. And you have the audacity to beg me to help you? This is your mess, fix it yourself.”
Leo keeps his face straight and slowly nods. He leaves the table and doesn’t bother looking back.
“Leo,” Ivy calls out. “Don’t go. Let’s talk this out, like a family.”
Leo pauses at the door. “Seven, you with me?”
“Fuck this shit.” Seven shoves his plate forward and takes off after Leo, leaving the rest of us behind in gaping silence.
I don’t dare say a word, not because I don’t want to, but because I know it’s not my place. I’ve inflicted enough damage since I showed up here earlier this year.
My only option is to accept they’ll figure this out on their own.
Leo takes one final glance over his shoulder at the door. His sights are trained on Archer as he says, “I’ll remember this.”
