Page 97 of Jig's Last Dance
He grabs my hand, his nostrils flaring, but Rain punches him in the shoulder, and he steps back.
“Stop being a butt nugget,” she says with a flash of her eyes.
“Butt nugget?” I mutter, sliding into the seat and crossing my arms over my chest.
Jig will be lucky if he can sire children by the end of the night if he doesn’t step back. Fucker. Rain slides in beside me, and I scooch over when I see Cyn behind her. Just as well, Jig should stay far away from me.
Once we’re in and Bastion pulls away, Rain says quietly, “We’re checking it out. Better to go in prepared.”
I nod silently, turning my head away when Jig says, “Hopefully, the fucker will be there, and we can blow his brains out.”
Rain shivers beside me, and I sigh. A few weeks ago, I’d have been the one appalled, but I can’t say I care anymore. I’ve seen the evidence of his misdeeds via the images I can never forget. That man deserves to die.
Curiously I’m still numb from finding those bones. I don’t know whether it’s a blessing or a curse that I’m not freaking out right now.
From the corner of my eye, I watch Rain grab Cyn’s hand. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet, and my heart trips in my chest when he pulls her close and whispers something in her ear.
This is dangerous for Rain, a fact that I can’t lose sight of.
“You haven’t heard from Iris, have you?” Rain asks.
Shaking my head, no, I rub my brow. I have zero intention of telling them about the address and the body, not to mention the money. The latter for multiple reasons, including I’m ashamed to admit, that I squatted at their house like a vagrant.
Of course, I feel itchy at the omission, but hell, I’m surrounded by half-truths now. Even mentioning my dad could be a really big damn mistake. I can’t imagine how that news would go down.
“What are you hiding?” Jig barks, and I flinch, raising my eyes to his.
His hard glare goes right over my head, and I retort, “What the fuck is your problem?”
His brows slam over his eyes, but once again, Rain intervenes. “Enough! Alice, do you have something to tell us?”
Grudgingly, I search for something the least inflammatory and say, “I found a picture of Uncle Sal, John, and my dad.”
Jig slams his hand against the dash, and I roll my eyes. “Chill out.”
“Fuck no! You’re living with fucking swine.”
“Jig, for the last fucking time, what would you have me do? Don’t you get it? He’s a fucking mobster. He could kill me!” I shout, meeting his burning gaze.
He stares at me for a moment before turning away and muttering, “I doubt it.”
“Oh? Please, do tell me how you know better than me?” I say, hitting the seat before me.
He swings back around and snarls, “Because you’re his goddamn daughter.”
“Ha! Wait . . . what? You’re fucking insane,” I breathe.
He searches my expression before smiling grimly. “You’re going to pretend you didn’t know?”
“Know? That’s bullshit! And how would you fucking know?”
Beside me, Rain’s head bobbles back and forth between us, but the other occupants of the vehicle are silent.
His eyes flicker before he says, “Your brother told me.”
My mouth flops open like a fish, and I swallow to drum up words, but nothing comes out, not even fucking air.
Jig drops his gaze and turns back to the front. Blindly, I face the window.