Jordan walked back to the kitchen, the clean, bright space a stark contrast to the chaos still clinging to him. He watched as Mrs. Wells - Veronica fixed him a cup of coffee. The ritual was soothing, familiar and Jordan sighed wearily as he settled into the couch in the drawing room.
"Are you sure you don't want to take a nap? You barely slept last night."
Veronica asked, turning to glance at Jordan before going back to the brewing machine. She was a woman in her forties, but with a former model's innate grace, her blonde hair was perfectly styled, framing deep blue eyes that had only recently acquired fine lines around the corners, lending her whole persona a kind, worn beauty.
At the outset, Jordan and Veronica looked so alike that they might be mistaken for siblings. Veronica looked far too young for the trauma she carried. She was a woman who had made the devastating mistake of trusting the wrong people in a world that never forgave.
"Here it is," she said, handing Jordan the steaming cup, for which he was utterly grateful. "Is Askai okay? You looked really shaken last night, and I didn't want to trouble you anymore with my inquiries than you already were…"
"He is good, Veronica. Safe." Jordan said, letting the steam warm his face, but Veronica looked at him with profound worry.
"This is because of Valez, isn't it? You are running because he has succeeded Tommie. You should have come to see me when I called you months ago. I could have warned you much ahead!"
Veronica's eyes swam with unshed tears. She understood the terrifying predicament the boys were in. They had made a mistake years ago when they dared to make an enemy of the most powerful, most relentless man in the West.
Tommie—Moraine Valez's rival, she bitterly recalled his name, was the man who had caused their initial hell. He had been living on borrowed breath, a cruel mercy granted by Valez's bleeding heart for his third brother, Selvis….
She still remembered the day she had first seen Valez. He was just a boy then—dark, lean, and so very tall for his age. They called him 'Spitfire'. He had ruthlessly named a street after himself when he was just fourteen, right after he burned the previous boss alive in his own house, along with his every last scion. His gang of unruly ragtags had hunted down every single one of the former boss's minions before the dawn broke.
Moraine had always believed in complete annihilation.
Somehow, that was just the beginning of a terrifying story awaiting the rise of a formidable power in the West. How she wished that the boys had never crossed paths with him. But even if she turned the clock backward, she still couldn't have prevented it.
Askai, himself, had never been quiet on the street, stirring up storms that always made him the terrifying, undeniable center of attention. That boy was a magnet for dangerous troubles, and Jordan, his 'second brother,' was the most willing, fiercely loyal partner in all his reckless crimes.
"What do you mean you could have warned us…I thought it all happened just a few nights ago." Jordan asked, confused.
"I have been hoping to tell you for so long, but I couldn't gather the courage," Veronica confessed, her voice thick with pain. "When I finally did, I couldn't say it over the phone, and I couldn't come by myself without risking us all. Moraine had forbidden it."
"You knew what exactly, Veronica?" Jordan asked, bewildered, the cup frozen halfway to his lips.
"Oh, dear! Tommie has been dead for a year now. It wasn't an accident." Veronica reached out for his hand, squeezing it gently, knowing the devastating realization was soon to follow.
"Does that mean…" Jordan couldn't finish the thought, his throat choking up due to the sudden, agonizing onslaught of emotions. He knew why Moraine had kept himself from killing Uncle Tommie for all these years. If his death was not an accident..
"His death was a just execution for the sins he committed on those we loved. And yes…" Tears finally spilled from her eyes as she broke into heart-wrenching sobs. Jordan put down his cup to hug her tightly, squeezing strength into her, his own eyes moistening over the brutal truth.
"He is gone too…" She breathed between the sobs. "Selvis is gone forever. I sat next to him the whole night. I couldn't believe it … the doctors had said that he had many years ahead, and I thought… I thought I would see him smile again. But his heart… they said… it gave away."
She wailed in his arms, her painful sobs breaking Jordan's heart. Fresh tears spilled from his eyes as he realized the depth of the pain Moraine must have been enduring. Archie had been his second brother, Selvis his third. In their fractured world in the West, the brothers were all the family one had. Now both of them were gone.
Moraine had loved them both more than his own life, and to watch the people you love meet a brutal, agonizing end—Jordan couldn't even begin to imagine his pain.
It had been a whole year now, but Moraine was a man who remembered everything—every slight, every moment of affection, every loss—way too vividly.
A boon and a curse.
He quietly patted her back until Veronica quieted down, her body shaking with residual grief. Mrs. Wells—another assumed identity, like Askai's—had left her past behind after that incident that turned all their lives into a mini-hell. It had taught all of them - the so-called 'spawns of Satan,' what the West really was – a festering wound that gave nothing but pain and loss.