Libby
I JOLTED WHEN FINGERS BRUSHED my arm, pulling me back to the present, and looked up into bright blue eyes.
It took me a second to recognize who I was looking at, to realize where I was standing. I shook my head when all sense came flooding back. Conor was standing directly in front of me, on the other side of the bar, with a mixture of frustration and worry on his face.
“Hey. Hi, how did it . . . Is he okay?”
He studied me for a second. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.” My reply was weak and quick. Too quick.
I was wrecked.
Broken.
I’d spent every moment of the last two hours consumed by grief.
After the phone call from Conor, I’d laid in the back seat of my car and sobbed until the pain became too much.
Conor nodded slowly. I knew from his expression he didn’t believe me for a second. Just like I knew he wouldn’t push me.
“Libby, I care about you a lot. After all the shit our gangs went through, it means everything that you guys took me into the family.” He rested his hands on the bar top and leaned close. “But if you ever ask me to do that again . . .”
I glanced at him and ground my jaw to stop it from wavering.
“I’ve done bad things without a thought. We all have. We had to. But I hated myself earlier. Maxon was gonna try to take me on. Me, Libby. For you. That guy fucking loves you. And I had to stand there and pretend like I was enjoying crushing him. Don’t ever make me do that shit again.”
“You think any of this is easy for me?” I bit out. “It’s necessary, Conor. It’s the only chance I have of making him leave.”
“No, I get that it’s necessary. But I can’t help you break him the way I did today. Fuck, if he would’ve swung, I would’ve let him. And I wouldn’t have fought back, because I hated what I was doing to him.” He reached into his pocket and slid three keys over to me. “I’ll do anything else you need for this case, Libby. Not that.”
I stared at the keys until I was no longer in The Jack again, and all I was seeing was Maxon’s broken expression.
“I love you, Rebel.”
Over and over.
I cleared my throat and worked one of the keys off the ring before handing it back to Conor. “Can you switch out Einstein’s key without her noticing?”
He blew out a harsh breath and twirled the key between his fingers. “Fuck,” he murmured, drawing out the word. “I can try.”
“I need you to.”
Conor’s expression shifted into frustration. “This is what Kieran and Jessica do. They sneak in and out of places undetected. Einstein hacks and creates fake identities. I protect people. You’re having me do everyone else’s job, Libby. There’s a reason I don’t.”
I leaned over the bar and dropped my voice so it could barely be heard over the other voices in The Jack. “Consider this part of protecting me—protecting Einstein. I need you to switch out those keys.”
He looked like he was going to argue, but continued to stare me down for a few moments before clenching his teeth. “And if she catches me?”
I wanted to tell him not to get caught.
I wanted to tell him to lie.
I wanted to tell him so many things so long as it kept Einstein in the dark.
“Then tell her the truth.” The words were out before I could begin to take them back. I lifted my hand to point at him. “Only if she catches you.”
He dipped his head in understanding, but relief rolled from him in waves.
I looked down the bar, trying to distract myself with the very few customers we had at the early hour of the evening, but felt the question pulling me toward Conor. Ripping from me. Begging to be freed.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I asked quickly without looking at him.
“I don’t know,” he answered after a pause. “He was sure I was lying until I called you. He looked blindsided.”
The air rushed from my body, escaping me on a near-silent cry before I was able to cover my mouth.
“Libby . . .”
I shook my head . . . slowly at first, then quickly. “I’m fine,” I said thickly, then looked to him. “I’m fine. I just . . . I need you to replace Einstein’s key. Please.”
“What about everyone else? Dare and the twins?”
“What about them?”
“Don’t you all have keys to each other’s places?”
I shrugged. “It’s taken care of. Dare gave me his when I told him I lost mine, and the twins won’t go there when Maverick and Einstein are fighting the way they are.”
Conor looked at me warily. “For how much you’re going through to prevent anyone from finding out something’s wrong, you’re banking a lot on that guess.”
I offered him a mocking smile. “I could always have you go steal their keys . . .”
He rolled his eyes and pushed away from the bar, but I called his name before he could take a step away.
“I’m sorry. For today . . . what you had to do. For all of this.”
He dipped his head in a nod and turned to head out of The Jack.
I busied my mind and my hands with prepping for when the rush came flooding in, thankful I only had to make it through a short shift before I could break down at home.
Not five minutes later, a massive shadow towered over me.
“Libby.” His tone was pure grit and steel. As always.
“Zeke.”
“Do it again, I’m keeping your tips for a week.”
I stopped slicing the lime and slowly looked over my shoulder in time to see my boss chuck a cardboard box near me.
“What—”
“This ain’t your house,” he said, stalking off.
I glanced at the box for only a second before the knife clattered to the cutting board.
I shakily tore into the gently taped box. My gaze went to Zeke’s back . . . to the other bartenders . . . to the few people drinking throughout the bar.
No one was watching me. No one seemed suspect.
There wasn’t a soul in the bar radiating malicious energy or twitching anxiously. There weren’t eyes casting eager glances in my direction or carefully ignoring my stare.
But there was a box in my hands addressed to Elizabeth Borello, without a return address or single barcode . . .
And inside was a black Polaroid camera.