Page 49 of House of Sin
Finn’s expression twisted into a sneer as the ugly realization of how the situation looked finally hit him. “He started it,” Finn muttered defensively. “He shoved me first.”
I coughed out a hollow laugh as I deliberately turned my attention away from Finn and back to the smaller man. “Look at him,” I said, disappointment threading through my voice. “His knife is shaking, and he’s already reaching for excuses before he’s even done anything at all.”
The smaller man’s breathing changed at that, growing slower and heavier, and I could almost feel the exact moment humiliation turned into fury inside him.
“He’s afraid of you,” I said softly. “That’s why men like him carry blades. Because without them . . .” My gaze drifted over to Finn before returning to the smaller man. “What are they?”
Finn’s face twisted. “Shut up.”
But it was already too late. The smaller man had straightened, his shoulders tightening as he took the bait.
“You're going to let him threaten you like that?” I asked. “Or are you finally going to defend yourself?”
At this, the smaller man clinched his fists. I saw the way he couldn’t stand it, the judgment, the implication that he was the lesser of the two. He looked at Finn, and I could almost hear the word'now'inside his skull.
“Prove it,” I whispered. “Prove you’re not the weaker man.”
And he did. A strangled roar tore from him as he hurled himself forward, hands clawing for Finn’s throat. The blade caught him mid-motion in a blur of metal and muscle that happened far too quickly to stop. A wet, sickening sound split the alley as flesh gave way, andthe smaller man staggered backward, confusion overtaking rage while blood poured down his chest in dark ribbons that stained the street before his knees finally buckled beneath him.
Finn stood frozen, staring down at the blade in his hand as it dripped. His jaw worked soundlessly, the truth dawning too late. He’d crossed the line, not in self-defense, but for ego.
“No. . .” he rasped. “I didn’t mean. . . he jumped me. Hejumpedme!”
I moved in closer, the copper stink of blood thickening in the cold air between us. “But you swung,” I said quietly. “That’s the difference. You had a choice.”
His eyes snapped to mine, wide with panic. “You saw what he did!”
“Oh, I saw,” I replied. “I saw everything. I saw how easy it was for you, how badly you wanted it.”
Finn dropped the knife as though it had suddenly burned him, stumbling backward over his own feet. “I didn’t . . . he just . . .”
“You needed to win,” I said softly. “And now you have.”
I crouched beside the body while the man’s eyes stared upward, wide and empty, his mouth still parted as though he were trying to force out one final argument. Blood pulsed weakly from the wound now, slowing with every passing second.
I looked upat Finn. “This is your prize.”
He turned and fled without another word, his boots slapping hard against the stone as he disappeared into the dark. Running away like most men did once they were finally forced to see what they’re made of.
I continued looking into the darkness for a moment longer, while the pool of blood seeped into the gutter, and behind me, the brothel windows glowed, untouchedby the death.
33
I KNEW ALL ALONG, KID
The square buzzed with life, a thousand conversations threading together as I moved through the crowd. I didn’t stop to admire the booths full of paintings in bright, swirling colors or the cheerful handmade pottery. That wasn’t the world I inhabited. The booth I’d arranged was a different kind of masterpiece, one that spoke in darker tones, in shadowsand whispers. It was a simple booth with a white canvas backdrop filled with wooden easels displaying a collection of Elona’s drawings that were nothing short of revolutionary. Not the kind of thing you’d normally see in a place like Butte, at least, not in public.
“How’s it looking?” I asked the man attending the booth.
“Perfect,” he said, adjusting a frame as he scanned the growing crowd. “People are intrigued. No one’s asked about the artist yet, but they’re looking.”
Good. Let them wonder. Mystery carried its own kind of power.
My eyes swept over the crowd. Maeve wove through the market at an unhurried pace, her attention catching on people just long enough to unsettle them. People instinctively made space for her and Maeve seemed to savor every second of it. Violet drifted by her side, quieter but just as amused. Then I found the one I was waiting for: Elona.
She hadn’t seen the booth yet.
“Birdie!” She called out, excitement in her voice.
