The Isle Of Sin And Shadows - Keri Lake Page 0,186

ends?”

Still wearing his smile, he pulls a piece of paper from the pocket of his shirt and slides it toward me. “These are the individuals on that list most likely to give me a fucking headache. Eliminate them? And I’ll grant you freedom.”

Hesitating for a moment, I stare down at the paper, trying to imagine the consequences of just saying no and walking away. Julio would send his men after us. I’ll kill them, of course, but he’ll send more, until it becomes an exhausting fucking game of survival. I unfold the paper to find only twelve names scrawled in a list. “And what if the other names on that chip happen to fall into the hands of the authorities?”

“What is it you say in Valir?” He shrugs, entwining his fingers. “C’est la vie.”

“I do this, you don’t contact me again. Don’t send anyone after me, because I will kill them, and their blood will be on your hands.” Not that he’s a man who gives a shit about someone else’s blood on his hands. It’s the insult that matters. The idea that he could have the whole fucking cartel come after me, and not a single one of them would kill with as much passion on his behalf, as I would to keep Céleste safe. “We have a deal?”

Smile stretching his lips, he leans forward, offering me his hand that I reluctantly shake. “We have a deal. But I’ll caution … live carefully, mi amigo. And I’d stay away from gambling, if I were you.”

Céleste slides her hand into mine, as we stand alongside the pearl rose, steel casket in which my sister rests. After a miserable overnight stay in the hospital, where I had my wounds tended, I returned to Jude’s car to find Frannie stuffed in there, wrapped in a blanket with her favorite teddy bear. At the very least, Jude didn’t discard her like a ragdoll.

It was in that moment that I realized just how much of a bastard I really was. That it took her senseless death to bring me to the understanding of how important she was to me throughout the years. While I became increasingly numb to the world around me, Frannie kept me grounded. She gave me just enough humanity to keep me going. To keep hoping for an end—whether by bullet, or my own free will.

It was because of my sister, a product of hate and violence, that I could learn to love and be gentle.

The priest recites a prayer, blessing the gravesite, and I curl my fingers around Céleste’s hand in mine. In my mind, I recall the letter I wrote. The one I lay in the casket beside her, along with the picture of her and our mother.

Frannie,

Your life was short, and brimming with tragedy from the moment you were conceived. But you left this world a better place. You were the fragile thread that kept me anchored. You taught me compassion and gave me reason. I’ll miss you, ‘tit papillon. Little butterfly.

I plant a kiss to the back of Céleste’s hand, watching as the casket is lowered into a small grave beside my mother’s.

50

Brie

One month later ...

“Justin! C’mon, baby! We gotta get goin’!” I slide my purse up onto my shoulder and grab the bag of lunch I prepped for him, along with the stack of flyers I made for Marcelle’s auction dinner. Some of the girls from the club, as well as a few generous friends from the neighborhood are helping me arrange this, in order to pay for her headstone next to Maw Maw’s. A number of businesses offered to donate some nice items for auction, which should give us just enough to hold a small funeral for her, as well. An empty casket, of course.

My nephew bounces through the house and skids to a stop in front of me, adjusting his glasses. Unlike me, he’s found a totally different means of hiding his sadness, which mostly consists of excessive reading. Anything he can get his hands on that I’ll allow him to read seems to keep him calm and in good spirits, since finding out about his momma.

On the other hand, I cry every night for my sister, after Justin goes to bed.

Bending down to retie his shoe, I glance up at him. “You used the toilet?”

“Yep.”

“Brushed your teeth?”

“Yep.”

“Put on clean socks?”

“Yep.”

“Ate a bowl of stinkbugs?”

“Ye—wait. No!” A giggle flies out of his mouth. “Dat’s gwoss!”

“It’s protein.” I slide his backpack onto his back and