Legacy (Sociopath Series Book 2)(16)

She blinks. “Are you asking me if I think you shot Mr Lore on purpose?”

“Yes.” My voice is so cold. “I am.”

“Well I don’t—I’m not really sure how to answer that. I mean, I wouldn’t be here right now if I thought that was the case.”

“I’m curious to know the thought process behind that. Nobody was there, of course. Nobody knows what went on except for me and Aeron.”

Gwen straightens up and fixes her gaze on me. There’s a very sudden, fluid transition in the way she holds herself. “I guess…I guess I figured he knows how to take care of business, and that if you’d really shot him, he’d have to be the mother of all pussies to take you back. I’m sure he’s a lot of things, but not a *.”

At that, I find the corners of my mouth turning up in a cool twitch of a smile. “I understand you’re currently between jobs?”

“My boss retired, and it felt a little wrong to me to stay around for his replacement. We had a special kind of relationship. I worked with him for five years, and everything was going to change…” She shrugs. “Seemed best to let the new guy do things his new way.”

“Fair enough. So when would you be available to start?”

“I—uh. Let me see.” She’s trying not to look flustered, suddenly reaching down for a diary clad in purple velvet. It plops open on her lap, silky pages scraping against her fingertips. “I’d need a week just to take care of a few loose ends.”

“A week, then. I’ll have your contract couriered over.”

She’s gone all stiff. Perhaps she’s waiting for me to offer a handshake, but then she’ll see how I’m barely holding together, how I’m struggling. Cracked ice.

“Do you have any questions?” I ask.

“I…no.” She slips the diary back into her tote, and knots her fingers together—a swift, elegant move. “Can I just say something?”

“Go ahead.”

“I know I’ll be working for Mr. Lore. And that’s amazing, honestly—I’m psyched and all—but I love what you’re doing with SilentWitn3ss. I mean, if we’d had access to something like that during Ferguson, things could have been different. A lot different. You get me?”

There was more than one conspiracy theory about Tuija’s death, the most popular being that I’d somehow orchestrated it myself. I was jealous, trigger-happy, unhinged; I wanted Aeron’s “ex” out of the picture, and perhaps he even helped. A cynic might say that Gwen, more than aware of these possibilities, is already attempting to get me on her side. Just in case.

Not that I’m a cynic.

God, I wish I didn’t have to be.

“That’s pretty much what I set it up for. I wanted the world to be a little more transparent—we’re meant to have free speech, but that only goes so far. As a company, we still have to behave responsibly and that means we have to censor at times, but I’m glad it’s making a difference.” I reach up to tuck loose hair behind my ears. “Some people have all the power. They get away with too much.”

“Oh, I’m with you.”

“So we’ll be seeing you next Monday?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wonderful.” I stand to walk Gwen out of the office. For a moment, I pretend that I’m the Leo I always hoped I’d be: running a company with integrity, fighting the bad guys, and putting monsters back under beds. A successful woman who didn’t base her livelihood off manipulating people and emotions and truths. As Gwen and I make pleasant small talk about her outfit, I float, suspended in all that could have been.

Before the blood.

Before the betrayal.

Before the man who only told me he loved me so that I’d save him. I’d have saved him anyway, but in his panic, I think he forgot that. I just wanted to give him everything; my past, a future, a bullet. It was the only way I knew to mess him up inside a little, the same way he’d tortured me.

I love him. I hate him. And every day, I become more like him in order to survive.





SEVEN MONTHS AGO

Aeron





Aged 31

Cloverville Hospital, NYC



“Where’s Leo?”

I’ve slurred this question about seventeen times. Or twenty-three times. Or maybe just five—I don’t know, these goddamn painkillers keep messing with my brain—but I do know that nobody’s answering. Any restraint I had went out the window around about the time they woke me up. The surgery went well, Aeron. You’re going to be just fine, Aeron. Woo-f*cking-hoo, you won’t have to shit into a bag for the rest of your life, Aeron. There’s a massive hole in my guts—I GET IT. But where. Is. She?

Nurse Jowls—my vision’s all blurred so I can’t read her name tag, but I can sure as hell see her cluster of chins—bends over me to adjust my drip. “How you doing? You nice and numb?”

“Where’s Leo?”

“I don’t know who Leo is, Mr Lore. But there’s someone here to see you.”

“Where’s Leo?” I know, I know, I’m letting myself go here. But humor me. I bled out all my f*cks.

“He’s from NYPD. Are you feeling well enough to answer a couple questions?”