“Well, good, because if you tell that buffoon and not me, I will wreak havoc.” She sat back in her seat, looking a little smug. “And I can wreak havoc like nobody’s business.”
“Very aware, thanks,” I replied. “And Roux? It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. Angelo’s the only person I can talk to about this, too. I know what it’s like to feel alone.”
“Angelo missed his calling. He should have become a therapist.”
“For all we know, he is.”
Roux giggled at that. “So can you tell me just one thing about the case?”
“Depends on what the thing is.”
Roux leaned across the table, her face very serious. “Do I get to punch anyone in the face this time?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “I’ll let you know.”
Roux grinned, and it felt so nice to have my friend back.
Chapter 11
I watched them play chess for a while, then Roux had to go to a massage appointment. “This tension needs to leave my body!” she declared while gathering her bag. “I think I’m getting a seaweed wrap, too. Toxins, begone!” She waved her arm like a sorceress summoning a spell. “Angelo, don’t touch that board or this whole game will be invalid and I’ll win by default.”
Angelo held up his hands in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.”
She pointed at him warningly, then reached out and hugged his waist. “Thanks,” I heard her whisper, and he smiled and patted her shoulder.
“Anytime, darling,” he said. “I told you, we always take care of our friends.”
After she left, I sank down in her seat and glanced at the chessboard. “It looks the same every time,” I told Angelo. “I don’t think either of you ever move a piece.”
“We dabble,” Angelo replied. “So how is Maggie? Your best friend is back, you must be happy about that.”
“I am,” I said, and I was. “I don’t think I’m very good at having friends, though.”
“Well, I find that absolutely impossible to believe.”
“Some girls were talking about Roux, and I didn’t even defend her.” It felt good to say that out loud, but I still felt rotten. “What kind of crappy friend does that?”
Angelo was quiet for a moment, rolling the knight back and forth in his palm. (Apparently I had picked up his habit of doing that.) “Sometimes,” he said, “it’s worth focusing on the bigger picture. You’ve always been there for Roux, yes?”
“Yes, and she’s been there for me.”
“So a little misstep is all right. What matters is who shows up when you need them the most.”
I raised an eyebrow at Angelo. “We’re not talking about Roux anymore, are we.”
“No. No, we are not.” Angelo set the knight back down and folded his hands primly in his lap. “You should know something.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rose when he said that, but I kept my face neutral.
“A few more people have come forward, saying that they were removed from the Collective.”
“How many?” I asked.
“Three.” Angelo didn’t even fidget.
“Can I ask how you’re finding this out?”
Angelo glanced over my shoulder, then pushed Roux’s untouched water bottle toward me. “Hydrate, please, love. It’s quite warm today. And I cannot say. At least, not yet.”
Now the goose bumps were traveling down my arms. “How do you know this?”
“It’s becoming quite difficult to tell who’s a friend or a foe,” Angelo murmured.
“Cracks in the Collective armor,” I said.
“A bit, yes. But Dominic Arment is definitely a foe.” Angelo tapped the water bottle at me, and I picked it up this time.
“Why now, though? Why is Dominic suddenly going all bad guy on us?”
Angelo let out a low, quiet breath. “Apparently, at least according to what I’m hearing, Colton Hooper’s death was quite an opportunity for him. Dominic and Colton were enemies—”
“Who wasn’t an enemy of Colton?” I pointed out.
“—and after Colton died, Dominic decided to make his move.”
“So we killed one bad guy and another one just popped up in his place,” I said, feeling defeated.
“Not all bad guys have the same motive,” Angelo told me. “To paraphrase Tolstoy, every bad guy is bad in his own way. Dominic has decided he wants to rule the Collective by himself, and if you don’t agree, well …”
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. I understood what he meant.
“Maggie, I’m telling you this because I want you to know something: you only talk to people that I tell you to talk to, is that clear?”
“Of course,” I said. “But who am I talking to?”
“No one yet. But if someone tells you they’re in the Collective, it doesn’t mean they’re trustworthy. I’ll be the one who decides that.”
“What about my parents? Can I talk to them about all this?”
I was only kidding, but Angelo’s face stayed somber. “Not unless I tell you.”
If I hadn’t already been sitting, I would have needed to sit down. “Wait, no, you don’t think that my parents are—”
“No, no, darling, sorry. Of course not. But I think that the less information they have, the better. It’s safer for everyone.”