Coughing into a fist, Brody turns off the screen, and natural light floods the room again. Those facing the windows all squint and groan at the same time. The second I close my eyes, I’m assaulted by images of three dead bodies. I yank my eyes open, blinking rapidly to focus my vision past the glare. When I can see again, I notice all eyes are on me.
“What?” I ask again, slumping into my chair. I grip the armrests to keep from fidgeting. “Someone better speak. You’re scaring the motor oil out of me.”
“RC, the killer is targeting you,” Bedlam says, his stare unwavering.
His words fly above my head. “What?” Okay, I’m starting to sound inept. I move my gaze to Brody, who’s as still as a statue. I don’t like that look. It’s usually followed by bad news.
“We have reason to believe, with the discovery of Chicane’s body in your bed, that the killer is sending a message. Specifically to you,” Brody says.
And there it is. The truth I’ve been failing to grasp since my mentor ushered me into this room. Like a spark plug igniting, all the connections I’ve been making snap into place. I slap the table. “This is bullshit!”
Bedlam pushes off the window and supports his body weight on both feet. “From the reports, you are the common denominator. You called in Hubcap’s body on Punishment Square. Whiplash was dumped right where you were standing during an interview. And Chicane on your bed. What other evidence do you need?”
I’m shocked. Not because of Bedlam’s allegations, but because this is the most he’s spoken in public in I don’t even remember how long. He’s showing too much emotion, and it’s all directed at me.
“This is crazy,” I finally say when I regain the power to speak. I scan the faces of everyone in the room. We’ve all read the reports. We’ve all listened to the news. Still my mind can’t accept what is obviously in front of me. “It’s just—”
“If you say coincidence, I will smack you,” Star spits. “Now’s not the time to act stupid, RC. I thought you were smarter than that.”
Star’s words actually hurt like multiple stab wounds. I wince as the memory of Chicane assaults me again. “I’m not dropping out of the IC,” I say between clenched teeth. “I’m not the one you need to protect.” I send my most venomous stare toward Brody. He returns it with a blank expression. “If the killer is sending some message, then the last thing you want is to take me out of the IC.”
“I agree with RC,” Ace says.
“Stay out of this,” Bedlam growls at him.
“Keep your dick in your pants,” I throw at Bedlam. He keeps his murderous gaze on Ace.
“Oh please.” Star rolls her eyes. “You and Bedlam are the worst-kept secret of the Gathering.”
My cheeks flame despite the gravity of my situation.
“I think we’ve moved off topic.”
“Slipstream is right.” Ace gives our green-haired brother a nod; then he shifts his gaze back to Brody, totally ignoring the fuming Bedlam. “As I was saying… if we want to flush out who this killer is before another one of our own is taken, we need to keep RC in play. We can’t say for certain she is the target.” He raises a hand at the coming objection from Brody. The hulking brute of a man actually shuts his mouth. It’s then I realize, out of everyone here, Ace outranks us all by virtue of being the son of the counselor. His adopted father is the man to the left of the boss in power. Not even Star, who’s the underboss’s daughter, can speak against him. Ace continues when the rest of the room remains silent. “Despite Chicane’s body being left on her bed, if RC really was the target, then why leave her alive if the killer had access to her room?”
All the blood rushes to the pads of my feet. The truth of Ace’s question hits me like a finishing blow. I’m surprised I’m still conscious.
“I was with her until dawn,” Bedlam asserts.
“Yet the killer still managed to leave Chicane’s body without you noticing.”
Ace’s statement deflates some of Bedlam’s ire, judging from the slight slumping of his shoulders. I’ve had enough of this. With strength I didn’t know I still possessed, I push off my seat and pin my delusional white knight in place with a glare. He doesn’t cower. I wouldn’t respect him the way I do if he did.
“Will everyone leave the room, please,” I say.
“RC—”
“Brody,” I cut off the man I consider my second father. I mentally make a note to apologize for my rudeness later. “You will have to kill me first if you want to keep me from participating in the Impulse Cup. End of discussion. Now, will everyone leave so I can talk some sense into Bedlam?” There’s no use hiding our relationship. Like Star implied, everyone seems to already know.
Ace pushes off the wall he’s leaning on and strides toward me. He pats me on the shoulder before giving me a kiss on the cheek. Bedlam grumbles something nasty under his breath at the wink Ace gives him.
“See you at the starting line,” Ace whispers into my ear. I respond with a slight nod.
“If you ever get tired of him, I’m open twenty-four hours, seven days a week.” Star gets up with an exasperated sigh, when I ignore her. “Come on, Slip. I’m getting hungry just looking at you. Let’s grab a bite.”
Slipstream stands to follow her.
Before he can leave the room, I say, “Don’t think I’m leaving you alone. We’ll talk.”
“You have more things to worry about than me,” he says in an annoyed tone. He hates it when I mother
