only remind me of bad things.
“It’s an article posted a few days ago,” Apollo says. “It’s…uh…” he looks up at Rube, who nods. “It’s about Gabriel.”
I frown at him. “He made the news? Why would he do that? He’s got to know the police are after him?”
He has Zachary’s attempted homicide hanging over his head, a fact that I’m pretty sure was made clear when the police taped up my old house and then froze his accounts.
But it was like he disappeared into thin air after his discussion with Apollo. The police couldn’t find a trace of him, and neither could we.
It’s been months.
Secretly—selfishly—I’d hoped the guys had put everything behind them. That they were starting new lives and leaving their Ghosts and Guardians and all of that behind them.
Now this.
“He…kinda didn’t have a say in the matter,” Apollo says.
I roll my eyes. “What have I told you lot about being cryptic? It’s just plain annoying.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I venture deeper into Apollo’s room, until I’m standing beside Rube. He smooths a hand down my head, toying with a curl as I lean in to read what’s on Apollo’s screen.
VIRGINIA PRIEST FOUND DEAD IN TIJUANA
My skin goes cold. “No,” I murmur. “Oh my God.”
The article states Gabriel’s body was discovered by hotel staff in his room in Tijuana, Mexico a day after he hung himself. What the hell he was doing there was anyone’s guess.
I stop reading halfway through. Clear my throat. “Well…I guess that…ends it?” But when I look up at my men, they’re all staring at me like they’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“What is it?”
“You read that last bit, right?” Cass asks, pointing.
I decline to answer, instead I’m craning over Apollo’s shoulder again.
The last line of the article sends a centipede crawling down my back.
The executor of Father Gabriel Blake’s estate requests that any next of kin contact them urgently.
And then a phone number with a Virginia area code.
“Nope.” I shake my head as I retreat. “Not interested.”
“Trinity,” Rube says, sliding his hand down my shoulder. But before he can grab me, I dodge away from his touch.
“Nope.” I cross my arms even tighter. “Nope, nope, nope.”
When I turn, fully intent on stalking out of the room, Zachary’s barring my way.
God damn it! I hate it when they gang up on me outside of the bedroom.
“I’m not calling,” I tell him, holding up my hands. “You can’t make me.”
“What if he left you something?” Apollo asks. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“I couldn’t care if he left me a private jet and some of Fort Knox’s gold,” I say, glaring at Apollo over my shoulder. “I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“He’s your father, Trinity,” Rube says.
“He’s most definitely not.”
“Whatever you don’t claim goes to the state,” Zachary says.
I turn away from all of them, instead staring out the window at the distant sea. It’s idyllic out there which is bullshit, because nothing short of pre-hurricane weather will suit my mood right now.
“Including whatever’s in that safe.”
The sudden hush in the room after Zachary’s statement isn’t from us being quiet. It’s the hush of breaths being held.
Shit.
I forgot about the safe.
But from their reactions to Zachary’s statement, my men haven’t. For all I know, Apollo’s still been running his password cracking software every second of every day since they left Saint Amos. In fact, now I’m pretty sure they’ve never stopped searching for their Ghosts.
And I want to keep them from their truth because I’m too busy being happy?
I turn to Zachary. “Then go. You can take my social security card and claim whatever—” I wave at the computer “—it is.”
Zachary shakes his head. “You have to be there in person.”
“Yeah? And how would you know?” I have no right to be angry with him, but I need to channel this frustration—this fear—somehow.
“Because when I had to claim my inheritance after my parents died, I didn’t want to be there either.” He looks up, to the side. “But I’m glad I did, because at least we have a roof over our heads.”
The bastard is guilt-tripping me.
And it’s working.
I’ve contributed nothing to our home. I would have, obviously, but I don’t have a penny to my name. No job. No inheritance.
But if Gabriel left me something…
“Fine,” I snap. “Then let’s go.”
“What about breakfast?” Apollo calls out as we all stream out of his chaotic room.
“We’ll get something on the way,” Cass says over his shoulder.
“Aw, man. I was looking forward