Page 61 of The Villain

I made a face at the closed door, then lumbered down the hallway toward the garage, where we kept some basic gym equipment I wished more of the men actually used. I saw almost no one on my way there except Mads, who was sitting at the bar with Jeremy, scarfing down a plate of French fries. He glanced up at me and did a double take, then swallowed nervously. I was surprised he didn’t rapid-fire questions at me. That was Mads’s thing. And if Mads didn’t even have the words, that told me just how weird and fucking serious things were.

I had a lot to say to my crew. Anyone who hadn’t already seen me carry Devlin to my room had heard about it by now, and my men needed an explanation. So, I’d start with the ones I trusted most.

“Officer meeting. Tonight at ten,” I announced. “Spread the word.”

Mads nodded, his eyes wide as he watched me leave.

I heard Jace before I saw him. The clang of a barbell. The steady, rhythmic thud of him hitting the self-defense dummy. Then a harsh “fuck,” followed by heavy breathing.

I found him bent at the waist, panting. He was wearing a pair of athletic shorts, and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. He straightened immediately when he saw me, and I could see the way he watched me warily. Like I was a threat. Not to be trusted.

I felt fucking sick. “Jace.”

He tore off a pair of fingerless gloves before grabbing a towel from a nearby bench and swiping it over his sweaty hair. He didn’t answer me, and I didn’t like that. Jace wouldn’t normally hesitate to lay into me and tell me exactly how I’d fucked up. But this? This was Jacehurt.

“Sit,” I said, gesturing toward the bench.

He immediately balked, which I really should have seen coming. “No. I want to stand.”

He wanted the upper hand, which he’d eventually lose. But whatever. He could have it for now. “Well,Ineed to sit.”

I grabbed a metal folding chair from against the wall, dragged it beside the weight bench, and collapsed into it with a groan. My shoulder and neck burned, and I could still smell the arnica cream on my fingers. I wanted to be back in bed with Devlin. But I also wanted to be here, sayingmea culpato my brother.

“Do you… have any questions for me?” There. My best attempt at starting this conversation.

The way his eyes widened before narrowing into angry little slits let me know I’d chosen poorly. “Any questions? Anyquestions? Are you for real right now? How about this: what the fuck, Cian? What theactualfuck?”

Rhys had joked once—a nearly historic event—that Jace spoke like he just learned swear words. He wasn’t wrong. Jace’s face was always so animated, which made his constant cursing even more amusing to watch.

I had to answer his question. Even when I didn’tknow“what the fuck.”

“I’m not going to kill Devlin. And I don’t want him hurt.”

Jace’s chest heaved in barely contained anger. “Why?” he spat.

I shifted my jaw. “Because I want to keep him.”

“You want tokeep him,” Jace jeered, his pale skin flushed. “What a load of shit. Just fuck him and kill him like normal people do, Cian.”

I rubbed my forehead. Because of course Jace’s perception of normal was fucked. “I don’t want to kill him, and I’m not going to.”

“Ci—”

“Jace. I need you to listen to me.” I braced my elbows on my knees and held his gaze as firmly as I could. “Devlin didn’t kill Patrick.”

He went deathly still, but otherwise didn’t react. Also odd for Jace. Finally, he rasped, “What…?”

“Devlin didn’t kill him.” I emphasized each word. “He didn’t give the order to kill him, either. Patrick died in the crossfire of the war that took Devlin down. That’s it.”

I could see the pulse in his neck throbbing as his eyes bounced between mine like a ping pong ball. Then it was like his body came unglued. He threw his hands up and rolled his eyes. “You’re fucking lying. You’re just telling me this so you can get out of killing him.”

I refused to get mad. I stayed calm and cocked my head. “Do you really think I’m lying to you? About this?”

Jace planted his hands on his hips and turned his head to stare blankly at the wall. He bit the inside of his cheek and remained silent for a good thirty seconds. Then I watched as some of the sass and defiance faded from his posture. When he finally faced me again, his voice shook as he spoke.

“You mean it?”

“I mean it. I just found out. Right before I was shot. I was already feeling…” I rubbed at my chest. “…different about Devlin. And then I put the pieces together.”