Leslie Langtry - I Shot You Babe

Missi joined us at the table but didn’t sit down. “You will have to kill us. Because we are never going to kill anyone for you again.”

I fist-bumped her. It wasn’t something I’d ever done, and likely wasn’t something I’d ever do again, but I did it anyway.

If you are going to make an ultimatum, you have to be ready to back it up. Once you say with absolute certainty that you will not do something, there is no going back. The Bombays have followed this flawed logic with a religious zeal that would have made Hitler envious. Family members who refused to participate in the business were “liquidated” immediately-usually by another family member.

It was a delicate and unstable way to approach life, but that was our culture. Some cultures wrestled over their differences. Others used a game of chess or a “dance-off.” We usually made one another bleed to death. Every family was different.

I was not an only child. But my brother had been such a supreme asshole that I felt like one. Dak and Paris had their sisters. They were lucky. And I was lucky that they included me in that group. And it helped make it that much harder for the council to disagree with us if they had to wipe out all their children. That was a plus for us.

So we glared at one another over a conference table for at least ten minutes, each side hoping the other would suddenly jump up and laugh and yell, “Just kidding!” But that wasn’t going to happen. And we’d use shrapnel instead of confetti.

We’d made a very dangerous move here. And we weren’t even armed. Well, Missi was. She had a button that could electrocute the council. Hopefully we wouldn’t need to use it.

While we sat there in silence, each side hoping their glares were dramatic enough to influence the others, all I could think of was Ronnie. I had it bad. It sucked that she loved Drew. But even if I died, she’d live-I’d tipped the pilot a lot to take them back home if we didn’t return. I hoped she’d take care of Sartre. I loved that little rodent. Considering that guinea pigs only lived about four years, I thought it was ironic that she might actually outlive me.

Still nothing was coming from the council side of the table. I expected our parents to scream, shout, even cry to get us to change our minds. I didn’t expect what happened next.

“What the hell,” Pete spoke up in his gravelly voice. “I’ve been wanting to retire for years.”

“It’s not like we need the money…” Montgomery ventured timidly.

The others looked at one another, then turned to us and nodded simultaneously.

“Right,” York said. “Tradition is so overrated.”

We stared at them as if at some point they were all going to burst into flames. That would have surprised us less than the words that came out of their mouths.

“You’re serious?” Gin squeaked.

Her mother nodded. “Why not? I want to spend more time with my grandchildren, not stuck on this island handing out death sentences.”

The others seemed to agree. Was this for real? How did that happen? We weren’t even that persuasive.

Dak eyed them suspiciously. “You mean I can stop training Louis? And I never have to train Sofia?”

Carolina snorted. “Like I want that precious little girl to kill people! Now, that doesn’t mean she won’t be taught how to fend for herself.”

We watched in awe as the council stood up and made small talk. This had really happened. Without bloodshed. Holy shit.

My cousins hugged their respective parents, who in return hugged them back. Mum came over to me and threw her arms around my neck. After a few seconds, I held her. It was over. It was-

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt.

And in a split second, the Bombay Council lay twitching on the floor. I knew Missi had something rigged up with the last council where she zapped them at a crucial moment. But I’d never seen it. It was somewhat disturbing to watch our sixty-plus-year-old parents twitching like lobotomized electric eels at our feet.

“Missi!” Liv screamed. “You were only supposed to do that as a last resort!” She ran to help her father up.

Missi shrugged. “When was I ever going to get to do it now that we’re going legit? Besides, these bastards just put me through a month of unmitigated hell for a stupid reason.” She smiled innocently. “A girl’s gotta have a little fun now and then.”

It was over. Four millennia of wet work were over without so much as a whimper. How about that? I might have waxed more philosophical on it if I didn’t have a planeload of turbulence waiting for me on the tarmac.

I left the others to negotiate the terms of the dissolution of the company and made my way to the plane. And even though we had just scored a major victory without spilling so much as one drop of blood, my mood worsened with each step.

Ronnie had something to say. No doubt it was that she had chosen Drew over me. Perhaps she’d twist the knife and tell me why him. Whatever it was, this was going to be unpleasant.

I found her sitting alone on the steps of the jet. I didn’t want to talk to her. But since I’d just dragged her into another hemisphere, I guess I owed her something.

“Hey,” she said.

“Come on. We can take you two home now.” I took her hand to lead her up the steps but she pulled out of my grip.

“You are so wrong about me.” She wasn’t pleading. She just wanted me to know.

I cocked my head to the side. “Am I?”

She nodded. “You never gave me a chance to explain. And I’m really pissed off about that.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual, because you didn’t try to explain.” My brain hurt. I wanted to go home, sleep for a week, then think all this through.

“Okay. I guess that’s somewhat true,” Ronnie said after a moment.

“Well, here’s your big chance. Go ahead. Explain it.”

For a second I thought she was going to get angry and refuse to talk.

“Drew isn’t my boyfriend.”

“What?” Not a great response, but considering the month I’d had, it was a respectable one.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Oh. Right.” I’d had enough of this. If she wanted to play games I had Risk and Sorry on the plane.

“He’s gay. And he’s my cousin,” Ronnie said, a slight glimmer of victory in her eyes.

“Right. And the Victorian house is really several apartments.” Oh, that nasty sarcasm.

“No, Drew is house-sitting for a professor who is on sabbatical in Paraguay. My apartment is being renovated due to an asbestos problem.”

Oh. Shit. I had hated her over asbestos.

“You never gave me the chance to explain,” she concluded. “If you had, you would’ve known that.”

I didn’t say anything, so of course she decided it was a good idea to continue.

“What is it with you men, anyway? All I’ve learned from being around you that no matter how well educated and worldly, you are still jealous, possessive and love to fight. You jump to conclusions at a moment’s notice and never stop to think about it-”

“Maybe you’re right,” I cut her off. It was too painful to hear that she had such a low opinion of me. Hell, I had a low opinion of myself.

“And then, after dumping me unceremoniously without so much as an explanation, you leave. And a few weeks later, you show up again with a file full of…” The words choked in her throat. “Full of ugly things I’d rather not have known, thank you.” She paused. “You came by just to hurt me even more. Just to prove you were right. And then you left, again, without allowing me to explain.”