Finally, our long sojourn to the past comes to a close. Did anyone have to go back and peek at what was happening pre-flashback to get up to speed? No shame; i did it, too. It feels like an age has passed while we witnessed Ava and Mercy's disastrous first attempt at romance. But it means that, going forward, we know exactly what happened between them, and not only do their actions in the first part of the novel make sense, but we have underlying context for everything that's about to happen. Stylistically, I enjoy that gut punch of Part Two. You know from chapter one that they're exes, but now you know how painful it is to be around one another again.
In Chapter Twenty-Eight, we have a sweetish brother/sister moment.
“He’s outside, you know.” Aidan pretended to find the contents of his jerky bag fascinating.
“I know.” She sighed again. “How f***ed up is it that I miss him?”
“Pretty f***ed up.” He bumped her shoulder with his in what amounted to a big show of support from him. “But I get it.”
“You do?”
“Not even a little bit. Just being nice.”
She snorted. “That’s a first.”
“Hey, I’m nice. I’m super fucking nice.” Wicked half-grin. “Just ask Monique.”
“Ugh.” She let her head fall sideways, so it was supported on his shoulder. “You’re hopeless.”
“Kinda great, huh?”
Ares looked between them, thumping his tail on the floor, hoping for another handout.
“Hey, Aidan? Thanks for running the creep show off.”
He made a dismissive sound.
And we have some world-building and plot movement on Maggie's end of things.
The casket showcase had a view of the street through tall windows Maggie had always found ill-placed. Because of them, she and Jackie had been sitting ducks while they shopped. Flanders’ wasn’t the nicest funeral home in town, but it was one that had always served the Dogs, and for that, they were all loyal customers. Down a short, carpeted hallway, they found the owner, Byron Flanders, waiting for them amid the potted urns in the sunlit lobby. Bright rays slanted in through the front, white-swagged windows, finding the delicate hollows of the orchids and lilies.
Flanders – narrow, petite, immaculate, almost effeminate – glided toward them in a tan summer suit, his footfalls silent on the short-napped carpet. “Ladies, I trust you found something that will suit?”
I love the world-building scenes. While I do use some real-life Knoxville landmarks, the shops and restaurants are all fictional. I feel like creating a tangible environment beyond the main characters' homes grounds the story in a way that lends credibility to the wilder, more extreme moments of action. Once you're fully submerged in the setting, and it feels like a real, walkable place, the plot is easier to accept.
The chapter ends on a "dun-dun-DUN" note with the knowledge that the Carpathians are back in town, and likely out for revenge, given what Maggie tells Jackie here.
Maggie bit down on her lip as one of the bikers plucked at her memory. “That one.” She tapped a finger at the glass. “The old president’s son. Jasper Larsen.”
“How do you know that?” Jackie asked.
Maggie sighed. “Because Mercy killed his father and uncle on Ava’s bedroom floor.”
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