Page 104 of Property of Fang
It’s a new day, yet like I told Fang, it feels no different from the last. Chaos still needs my father here, and I still need to figure out how to make that happen. Can I lie? Can I convince him that I’d truly take everything I know to the cops? Or will he call my bluff? Fang’s not wrong—I know a fair bit about my dad’s time with the Devil’s Breed, but how relevant is it now? And can they truly prove much of it beyond the word of one jaded daughter?
Would it lead me to my own downfall?That’s the more pertinent question. Would spilling the beans on my father inevitably point toward my own crimes?
I expel a sigh and mutter against the lip of the mug, “Happy Tuesday, motherfuckers.”Or is it Monday?I’ve lost track of the weekdays, the date having no relevance either.
I take another swig of the rapidly cooling coffee.
“Do you have room for one more?” Kathy stands in the doorway, matching mug in her hands.
“Always.”
“You better save space for me.” Darla edges into view, wrestling with a massively oversized puffer jacket. “Hell’s bells.” She punches one arm through a much-too-long sleeve. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful for the clothes they’re giving us. But damn. What giant left this in the lost property?”
“Would you like to swap?” Kathy gestures to the trench coat she wears.
Darla’s suspicious gaze lifts to hers. “Like that would go down well.”
“What do you mean?” I straighten the cushion on the seat beside me.
She shifts her gaze to me as though to say,“Do I need to explain?”
Right.Circus.
“You don’t have to join me if it’s too cold.” I offer them the out, but neither woman takes it.
“We’ll survive.” Darla settles on a chair a little farther down the porch and melts into the jacket. “We have so far.” She shakes her head as though to scold herself for souring the mood. “The Kid told me I was snoring last night. Sorry.”
“No bother.” I wrap both hands around my mug, even though there’s little residual heat in it. “Maybe ask Jezabel if they have something to help clear your nose.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “I might do that.”
“How did you sleep?” I ask Kathy as she settles on the chair beside mine.
“Good.” A faint blush colors her cheeks. “Better than I have in a long time.”
Darla raises her eyebrows suggestively.
Kathy chooses to ignore the taunt, and silence falls over our little group.
“What’s Anna doing?” I ask, breaking the odd standoff.
“She’s having breakfast with Molly.”Fang’s awake then.
“Thank God the girl found out her name,” Darla says. “I couldn’t believe it when Kathy told me what you said. Who would have thought getting her to talk would be so simple?”
“Right?” I finish the coffee yet keep the cup in my hands, unwilling to part with the physical distraction from the awkward tension in our conversation.
Kathy stays quiet while she nurses her drink. And Darla, always the first to speak her mind, stares off at the fields as though stuck on what to say next.
I draw a deep breath.You’ve done harder things.“Is there something I should know?”
Each woman looks at the other.
“Not something you should know, as such,” Darla says. “More, something we were told.”
“Why didn’t you say your father belonged to the same club as the one who took us?” Kathy blurts.
Maybe spontaneous combustion is a thing, because fuck me, am I suddenly hot.
