“Because, as your dad taught you, you have to protect yourself. Considering the man Bernard proved to be, he’s definitely not worth going to jail for. Right?”
I roll my eyes, though more at myself than her words. “He’s not even worth this conversation.”
“Exactly. Neither your dad nor I am opposed to some old-fashioned vengeance, as you know. But with a family like the Camoras—granted, it’s a tad different now that their dad is gone—you have to be smart about it.”
I frown as I take in her words. “So...what you’re saying is that neither of you are truly opposed to me taking my sweet revenge on that idiot, but I just have to calculate my odds?”
“Well, Arias hasn’t said anything. He’d probably prefer if it didn’t get to that, but I think the last six months have proven that there are limited ways to resolve this.” She sighs as she unwraps her lunch.
It’s true. I’m pretty open with Carmen and Dad. They know almost everything that has happened, and though Dad isn’t showing it to me, I know this frustrates him too. Especially since Bernard and I were kind of shipped together because of his relationship with his late father. But those genes didn’t seem to have transferred, and though I know Dad would love to storm into their office and tell them to rein in their brother, we don’t know how much the Camoras know of our operation. Their father was vaguely aware, and Bernard also is, since we’ve been together for six years, but we don’t know if anything was shared further. We demanded secrecy, but who knows.
Carmen’s right—I have to be smart about this.
My mother would have denied me this type of perspective. She doesn’t even fucking compare to Carmen. She might not be my birth mother, but she is more of a mom to me than Emily Glass ever tried to be.
Dad truly is lucky. He didn’t intend to find a partner after Mother, but Carmen came out of nowhere. There was no way either of us would have let her go. She’s sweet, cunning, talented, and head over heels in love with him, even after all these years. I was seventeen when they met, eighteen when they got married on a whim, and she’s been in our lives for eleven years now.
“I got you a Serrano-ham and cheese pastry, and a brownie for dessert.” I dodge that conversation. I don’t want to waste any more words on that asshole.
“Music to my ears.” She complies without arguing and brings us two glasses of water, two empty glasses, and a bottle of wine from the wine fridge she keeps religiously stocked here. “Anything else bugging you?”
She can read me like a book sometimes, because regardless of my ex, I can’t stop thinking of the man who looked at me like I shattered the earth beneath his feet.
“Nothing. Just hungry,” I lie.
She cocks her head, the three permanent wrinkles between her brows deepening. “Okay.”
“Did you move any of the new pieces today?” I change the subject again.
“A few, yes. Another twelve online, and I have one left.”
“That’s fucking fantastic. Well done!”
“Like you ever doubted me,” she says with a smug look on her pretty, olive-skinned face.
“I didn’t, but I’m just glad we’re getting rid of the Erickson stones. I was getting antsy about carrying them. There’s been some heat about them, even if the police can’t be called, since they were stolen in the first place. But there’s talk going around.”
“But the job you and your dad pulled was clean. Erickson hasn’t discovered who pulled the heist and stole his jewelry. Right?” Carmen looks a little bit worried now.
“No, he hasn’t. As always, we left no trace.”
But I never get overconfident about these jobs. Even after all these years. Because overconfidence leads to complacency, and that turns into error. So, we are meticulous, careful, and extremely calculated. I also monitor the situation for months, and even years after, to make sure no one catches wind of us.
Though, calculated is not how I feel right now. No...I feel positively reckless.
There’s fire burning through my veins, even as I put on this calm mask with Carmen, and that need to look over my shoulder has returned with a vengeance.
As I slowly chew on my pastry and smile sweetly at her, fear, excitement, and a sliver of doom run wild through my soul.
My time is up.
My days are numbered.
The Carver is coming for me.
Carter
“What the hell are you going to do, Carter? You can’t chase her through town in the middle of the damn day!” Maddox plants his wide frame in my path, stopping me from rushing back to Midnight, where my car’s parked.
