He should really get a new car now he’s a Harper Black.
The dogs are barking, throwing themselves at the wire mesh surrounding the gatehouse when we get to the gate.
“Those poor puppies,” Saskia says, pressing her nose to the glass.
“Wait,” I say to Lorcan. “Stop.”
He frowns at me but pulls over, making the other vehicles behind us do the same. I unclip my belt just as the gull-wing doors open. At the side of the gatehouse is a pen full of my father’s hunting dogs. A couple of the dogs are barking, and the rest are just watching me.
“We’re taking them with us, right?” Quinn asks, suddenly next to me.
“What am I going to do with five dogs?”
Quinn raises a brow. “What are you going to do with four men?”
She’s got me there.
It takes several minutes to load the dogs into Jude’s car, much to his annoyance.
“They’re going to fucking destroy my car,” he moans after the last one is tethered to the front seat.
“It’s a heap of trash anyway,” Dino snorts, ruffling the ear of one of the dogs before closing the passenger side door.
“You’re a heap of trash,” Jude bitches back, heading to the driver’s side and getting in. Through the windshield, the dog in the front seat can be seen trying to get onto his lap while he shoves it back.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Lorcan says as we walk back to the Mclaren.
“Oh, she does.” Quinn grins at him as we get back in the car. “Finally, I’ve been telling you for years to get yourself a dog,” she says to me.
“That’s considerably more to handle than one,” Lorcan frowns, glancing behind as the convoy restarts.
“I’m sure Viola can multi-task,” Quinn says.
And Lorcan snorts as if reliving the night before.
I close my eyes, hoping they’ll all just go away.
“Do they have names?” Saskia asks.
I shake my head, eyes still closed. Why the fuck would they have names? I don’t even know my name.
Then I remember the file.
It’s inside the backpack I brought with me, still stained in Dino’s blood. Only now, it’s heaver, filled with much more information that Dante has been collecting about me. Real documentation instead of forged ones. I take it out and read through it, occasionally stopping to take it all in.
“All alright?” Lorcan asks, placing a hand on my thigh after I close it shut and stuff it back into the bag. When I don’t answer, he adds, “We can talk about it later.”
I say nothing at first and just look out the window at the passing foliage, dark in places where the light can’t reach, like me.
Saskia has fallen asleep in the back, and Quinn is deep into her work on her laptop. It’s just me and Lorcan and the world outside of it.
Like when we left Sacred Heart the first time, and it was just us.
But now, when I reach inside, I come up with a tangled mess of all sorts of jagged emotions. Not full, blinding ones. Just bits, scattered pieces of what was my lost soul, coming back to life. Curiosity. Satisfaction. Desire.
Is this what living feels like?
“My real mother was called Viola too,” I say, breaking the silence. “He named me after her.”