Teagan is full of venom, full of wicked heat and a hunger for battle. She always has been ready to go for the throat, it's what made him fall in love with her and it's what earned her that spot at his table. Nothing that she says is out of character, and yet Rodeo listens and he can't help wondering if it is a character. A character she's been playing at his side, his Queen of Spades stoking the flames of his savagery, encouraging his violent desires and destructive decisions. Rodeo knows that if there's a rat in his ranks, they could be influencing more than just the runs that wind up going awful wrong. What if the rat's been pulling his strings all along, driving him into the darkness under the pretense of camaraderie?
Everything Teagan says to him now swirls around his mind, sour and suspect. He wonders if she is trying to encourage the worst in him on purpose. Vengeance has always been his vice. When he was small he used to fear that he would grow up to be a man with blood on his hands, just like his wicked daddy, and look where he stands now-- everything he never wanted to be. Does she know that? Does she believe he can be a righteous man and still be a formidable force? Is she saying this because she fears she is losing hold of the reigns rage has had on him for so long? Does she want him to continue on this path of bloodshed until it lands him in his grave? Does she want him to be the worst version of himself? Does she not see that he is making this change because he finally has hope for the future?
And then she takes out the notes.
Rodeo takes the folder, looking over the scraps. He doesn't know what the notes are about-- they are odd, but they aren't quite damning either. Looking at them is like looking at a cloud that somebody's told you is shaped like a dog. Of course you're gonna see the dog. Maybe it's nothing, maybe it's something. How can he know? How can he know who is lying to him?
Rodeo keeps his eyes on the pages too long. He can't look at her. He can't say anything. Anguish and anger are both burning inside him. He finally looks up, and there's no doubt that there is something guarded in his gaze. "There's a rat at the table," he admits, words he hasn't said aloud to her. "But that ain't why I didn't talk about this with anybody before I made the call. I didn't want to give y'all the chance to change my mind. Sometimes I got to do what I think is right, no matter what, you understand? I picked my council. But this is still my camp. It was never a perfect democracy, in the end it's always up to me to decide where we go next. And for the past two years, I've chosen the path of most destruction. The world was on fire and I wanted to throw everything into the blaze. I'd've seen this whole city burn down and I wouldn't have felt a goddamn thing." Rodeo closes the folder. This mess ain't what he's here to talk about right now. "Before my sister was born, I was no good. Hated everything. Wasn't joy in nothin' to me. I was a bully, and a bad one. I hurt people. But my mama brought home a baby girl and suddenly there was hope. I couldn't be the person I was before-- I had to be somebody she could look up to. Somebody she could believe in. I had to be good for her, but I still had to protect her. And I managed both. I did. I did, until I lost my way. You know what ripped me away from her, darlin'? You know what ruined everything? Anger. Vengeance. Violence. That's what took me away from my baby girl. How the fuck could I protect her from death row? Who the fuck could I blame for landin' me there? Now I got my baby girl back, and she's got a baby boy. And there's only one place all this violence is gonna take me, sweetheart. Don't you see that? I'm not tryin' to make us soft. I'm tryin' to make us smart. There's a fuckin' difference. Do you trust me or not?"