“But trying to find out who this person is during the IC makes things a whole lot tougher,” he says, not standing from his seat at the end of the table even if his fingers are twitching. Brody isn’t the type to take things sitting down, especially my disrespectful tone. I believe he’s giving me a pass because of the situation I’m in the middle of.
“I don’t see you getting anything done either way,” Bedlam mutters.
He takes the words out of my mouth, and a part of me is glad I didn’t have to be the one to utter the truth.
Ace is the one who answers on Brody’s behalf, which surprises everyone in the tent. “This is not the only case on the docket of the Bitterblade family. Know that we are running an entire city. Brody is stretched thin enough as it is. Keep in mind that his being here is actually taking him away from his most important priority.”
My expression softens when I say, “The boss.”
Brody waves his hand at my concern. “He’s fine.” Then the lines at the corners of his mouth deepen. “Although, these particular killings are making the other families anxious. There are whispers that if the murders aren’t solved and the killer isn’t brought to justice, some factions might use this as leverage to challenge the boss’s authority.”
Heavy silence spreads over every inch of the tent. Everyone here knows all too well what it would mean for Terra One if the boss’s rule is challenged. His own wife was killed because a major family incited dissention fifteen years ago. The conflict and subsequent cleanup left the Bitterblade family in tatters and barely able to maintain order. My parents were involved. In fact, everyone’s parents in this room were involved. Many people died. It took the city years to get back on its feet. Curfews were imposed. Brothers and sisters were turning on each other. Accusations of being sympathizers to the eradicated family started a witch hunt. Basically, everything was a bloody mess.
“Since we don’t want a repeat of what happened fifteen years ago, canceling the IC is the worst thing you can do,” I say, calmer than I actually feel. My knees are trembling. My shot of adrenaline is fading. If I don’t get any rest soon, I may not be fit enough to drive. All eyes focused on me, so with a deep breath, I brace my hands on the table and continue. “Go back to HQ, Brody. They need you more there. Between all six of us, I’m sure we can figure this out. The killer will be after Viper next.”
“My tent is right beside his,” Ace says.
“Mine too,” Bedlam adds.
Viper rolls his eyes. “I’m actually between them. I don’t know if I should be relieved or extremely nervous.”
“And I will be leaving an extra contingent of guards who will shadow you throughout this race,” Brody says with what is supposed to be a reassuring nod. It comes off menacing, judging from the way sweat pops out of Viper’s forehead. He quickly swipes at the dots of moisture and stands.
“If that’s all there is to this meeting, I’m heading back to my crew. The cross-country marathon starts at the asscrack of dawn,” Viper says, hiking his thumb over his shoulder toward the tent flap. Two immovable and stone-faced guards stand on either side.
“Stay alert.” Brody scans all the faces until his gaze meets mine. “Vigilance is the only way we will catch this guy. None of you should be alone at any point during the Impulse Cup. And, for the love of all that is holy, don’t take matters into your own hands. If you see something suspicious, report it and let us handle it. Got it?” When no one responds, he repeats himself with more force, “Got it?”
A chorus of agreement comes from everyone but me. It is as if Brody’s words are meant for me alone. I understand that all he wants is to keep me safe. We share a look for a moment longer as the rest file out of the tent into the deepening night.
The man I consider my second father gets up when we’re finally alone and approaches me. He places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze. Then he says, “Please, for me, don’t do anything stupid.”
“Who says—”
“I have a feeling the killer knows we’ve backed him into a corner with the IC commencing as usual.” His gaze hardens. “It’s my experience that when backed against a wall, psychos get desperate.”
A smile I don’t notice until my face is stretched to maximum capacity pulls at my lips. I run the tip of my tongue over my upper teeth. “That’s what I’m counting on.”
AFTER CHECKING in on my GT, where a grumbling Screw is getting her ready for tomorrow’s marathon and a muttering Mac is frantically plotting out our refueling schedule, I break one of Brody’s directives: I walk back to my tent alone. Rumors are already spreading about Wrench being found in the trunk of my car. Every driver I pass gives me a weird look, a combination of distrust and fear. Some are even saying I killed him. I roll my eyes at that. Let them talk. If they can gossip instead of focusing on the race, then they are not worth my time.
“RC, always the rebel.”
Star’s words from behind me causes me to shift my gaze to the heavens and pray. “Shouldn’t you be off fucking someone?” My patience is at its limit. I have no time for my usual tolerance where
