are you going to do when we see him and he’s nothing but a mobster Mounty? You really want to take on a charity case from the Bay? This isn’t a smart idea, Floss. We should have just gone to Morrison’s and been done with it.”
Floss.
The name I gave her all those years ago stuck.
My father’s obsession with Roman gods and ancient warfare had filtered down to me until I knew the mythology well enough that even as a child, I recognized the little girl I spent so much time around had to be a goddess reborn.
Not that I’d tell her that’s where it came from.
Ash has been careful to never be in my company, not ever alone and he never speaks around me so I haven’t heard him call her that before. It’s hard because I wish I could speak to him more openly and find more ways to help him but he trusts no one.
No one but his one friend, the Morrison’s unloved heir, and his beloved sister.
Avery shrugs at him and gives me a little smile, one she only ever sends my way. “I’m not going to leave him behind, not without meeting him first. I’m doing this for Mom as much as I’m doing it for us. If she wrote him into her will then obviously, she felt something for him… even if it was just obligation.”
Ash looks ready to argue with her so I cut in. “I’ve arranged for him to be taken into an interrogation room, the type with a two-way mirror. You can see him first and then decide if you want to talk to him. There’s no expectations here, if you decide you don’t want to speak to him then we can just leave.”
Avery nods and then slips her hand in Ash’s. It’s just a little movement, something I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t watching her so carefully, but it settles him down enough that he’s silent for the rest of the drive in.
When the car finally stops Ash climbs out and holds out a hand to help Avery out, all of the old world courtesy and charm that isn’t readily found anymore but it’s not just an act. He handles her like she’s made out of glass when I’m sure he’s the one covered in cracks.
He stays close to her side, like a guard expecting an attack, and I stay a full step away from them as if that will help settle him down a bit. He waits until Avery is busy signing into the visitors log before he speaks again.
“I don’t know why you’re helping us but I’d rather you fucking didn’t,” he hisses and I straighten my tie, acting as though I didn’t hear him. He doesn’t like having his own tricks used against him but, again, my hands are tied.
Thanks to my connections we don’t have to wait, one of the guards takes us straight through to the observation room with a curious glance. It makes sense. We’re in the worse institution in the country, the place all of the worst child offenders end up, and Avery has a Birkin bag in the crook of her arm.
She’s definitely out of place here.
The guard leaves us in there alone and Ash looks around the room like he’s waiting for the explosion to happen, all irritation and agitation.
“This is a bad idea, Floss,” he murmurs, and she shrugs.
“I don’t care. I have to know.”
The moment the door to the interview room opens his face falls, the change in him so abrupt I almost get whiplash.
We all watch in silence as the one of the guards bring their cousin into the room.
“He looks just like Mom,” Ash says, swallowing a little at the rasp in his tone.
Avery looks close to tears but her eyes are still sharp as they roam over his figure. “He’s been fighting, the black eye and messed up knuckles give it away.”
I shrug at her. “It’s a juvie in the worst city in the country, I’m sure he’s been in a lot of fights.”
Avery nods and steps closer to the glass, her gaze never moving away from the O’Cronin boy. It doesn’t matter that he’s big for his age or the sour look on his face, he looks too fucking young sitting there in an orange jumpsuit on.
The tattoo on his jaw is grotesque.
The guard in there with him snaps, “Sit your ass down, O’Cronin.”
The kid turns his head and smirks back at him, bravado he