“Him?” Tommy repeats. “Nah, there’s no way.”

“That’s him. That one. I know it is.”

“How …” Tommy clears his throat. “How sure are you?”

“One hundred percent. He’s the one who signed the contracts with me. Introduced himself when we met.”

My frown feels heavy, and I almost don’t want to ask. Luckily, Perry gets there first.

“Who is it?”

Tommy lets out this disbelieving little heh. “It’s … fuck me. It’s Luther.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

PERRY

My pal, my buddy, my old friend Luther. He’s the man out here threatening everyone and footing bills for things he shouldn’t foot bills for.

Now I’m really thinking about it, it makes sense. Owning a labradoodle was obviously his cover.

I just did not see that coming. Fuck me.

Thankfully, Tommy and Everett are as shocked as I am, so I don’t feel like as much of a moron as I could. But then I remember that I had the chance to shoot him in the face and didn’t.

This could be over already.

We could have nothing else to worry about.

I mentally sob again over how close I got to putting this shit behind us without realizing it, and I fucking didn’t. So, so close.

The comms crackles in my ear.

“Still nothing,” Lars says. He’s set up on a rooftop across from Lethal Poison. Without Arlie, he’s our best shot who will actually shoot, and between him, Everett, and me, we’re keeping an eye on the place. If I’d known Luther was this dangerous, there’s no way I wouldn’t have gotten Arlie out too, but I really, really thought she could handle herself.

I turn the music up that I’m listening to in my other ear. Thankfully, no one saw me slip the earbud in, or I’m sure there would have been words about professionalism or whatever, but it comes right down to this:

I’m not a professional.

I’ve made a lot of mistakes.

And today, I’m cleaning up the biggest one of my life.

Then I’m putting it all behind me and starting my life with St. Clare. I’ll probably still make mistakes, but none of them will be like this, and I have to trust that he’ll handle anything I throw at him.

I’m nodding along to the indie pop, watching the front of Lethal Poison, filled with this sense of wistfulness and longing. Other than my actual home that never felt particularly homey, this place was always mine. My safety. My refuge.

All along, Luther had us do his bidding. Did he even have “clients,” or was it all bullshit?

Maybe I can ask him all these questions before he’s left alone with Everett for a while.

My nose wrinkles at that.