His Pretty Little Burden (Kids of The District, #4)

by Nicci Harris

I was too late to stop her. Too busy.

"J-Jimmy," he chokes out, a flowing crimson waterfall gushing from his open mouth. I clench my jaw at the sound of Jimmy's name. At the sound of my phantom. A dark cloud that covers all. "Jimmy is dead, my boy. What are you talking about?" His voice is already halfway to hell when he murmurs, "Watched the girl." My body stiffens as something I've missed opens me up, allowing the ghosts of inadequacy to fill me. Right under my nose. Treachery seeps into my muscles. My Butcher head roars within my well-mannered façade. Of course. Always four steps ahead of me, even in death, old boy. I worked beside Jimmy for the past decade, his chosen heir, and I still don't know all his hands. All his influence. I'm the damn fool.