Chapter Seven
Brantley
"Ineed a favor."
"Hello to you too, motherfucker," Memphis Hughes says, chuckling when I stroll through the doors of his bar, the Devil's Run, two days later, scowling at the topless blonde who bats her lashes at me. "Liv, you might as well go serve someone else. He ain't drinking or tipping."
"Worth a shot," she says, looking me up and down with a flirtatious grin. "At least he's hot."
"Jesus Christ," I mutter, earning a laugh from Memphis.
"New girl," he says, enjoying my misery. "She won't bother you again. She's sweet. Works here to pay for her brother's medical bills."
"I don't need her life story, Memphis." I plant my ass on a barstool, shaking my head. "Don't need to know anything about her, as a matter of fact."
"Just saying, I hire the girls I hire for a reason, brother," he murmurs. "Most of them have serious shit going on in their lives. And they make a helluva lot more working here than they do anywhere else. Plus, no one fucks with them here." He hits me with a hard look. "You judge the hell out of them when you come here, but they're grown ass women, man. They get to decide if they want to work topless or not. Some do, some don't. Ain't nothing wrong with those who do decide to strip down to make a living. Frankly, it's a little fucked up that you judge them for it when you used to practically live in a goddamn bar."
"I'm not judging them for it," I protest.
"Yeah, you are."
"I am not," I growl. "If they want to walk around topless, good for them. Their bodies, their choice. It's not my fucking business. I'd just prefer if they'd stop hitting on me every goddamn time I come here. I don't like it."
"Because they walk around topless."
"Because I was a fucking virgin until recently," I snap. "So excuse the fuck out of me if casual nudity is still new to me."
His eyes widen, his mouth popping open. "Well, shit," he finally drawls, chuckling. "I thought I was the only motherfucker left in this town who knew how to keep it in my pants. Then Dalton informs me that he's a motherfucking virgin. Now you. And Priest has his own shit." He shakes his head, laughing loudly. "How the fuck did it end up being the four us?"
"You were a virgin when you met your girl?" I ask, not entirely sure why I'm surprised. I've known Memphis for years. Until he met Kylie, he never bothered with women.
"Damn near," he mutters. "Hadn't been with a woman since I was seventeen."
I smirk at him. "I'm judging the fuck out of you right now, just so you know."
"Go for it." He shrugs, unperturbed. "Most people do. If I gave a shit about their opinions, it might bother me. But out of curiosity, why are you judging me?"
"How the fuck were you damn near a virgin but you run a bar like this?"
"This place was Jayson's dream," he says quietly.
"Ah, got it." I don't ask for an explanation. I don't need one. I may be one of the only people who knew Memphis's shit until recently. And he knew mine. He picked me up off enough bar floors a few years ago. When you do that, secrets have a way of coming out. He told me about his best friend, Jayson. I told him about my nightmares.
If anyone gets what he's doing here, running a place like this, I do. We do what we gotta do to make shit right and live with the guilt. It's precisely why I'm here now.
"About that favor…" I say.
"What do you need?"
"You know where the Dixie Mafia congregates?" In another life, he was in an MC. Right up until everyone in his was murdered, including Jayson. And this place is full of bikers and criminals six nights a week. If anyone in my circle can get a bead on the pricks I need to find, it'll be Memphis.
"Jesus Christ, Brant," he mutters, blinking at me. "What the fuck do you need with them?"
"It's a long story."
He glances around at the mostly empty bar and then back to me. "I've got time, motherfucker. We aren't even open for another half hour."
"It's about my father," I mutter, running a hand down my face. "I'm pretty sure they're the ones who had the hit out on him. I need to find them."
"Why?"
I quickly fill him in on the situation with Isla and Bella, hitting the highlights. When I'm done talking, he leans back, whistling.
"I can ask around for you," he says. "But I'm not sure you should be getting involved in this, brother. If he owes them that kind of money, you may very well be the next one they come after. They won't stop trying to collect just because he's dead."
"Considered that," I mutter. "And if they want what he owes badly enough, they'll agree to negotiate."
"What kind of terms are you wanting to offer?"
"They give me the names of the two who killed him, and they agree not to go after Isla and Bella," I say. If they're willing to do that, I'll give them whatever he owes. I've been investing every goddamn penny I could for the last four years, trying to recoup my mother's fortune. And they've been good investments. She doesn't have a clue that his "life insurance" came directly from me. That's a secret I'll carry to my grave. What's left is more than enough to pay off his drug debt and ensure the past stays the past.
"It's not a bad plan," Memphis murmurs. "You sure you don't want to clear your name while you're at it? If you're dangling that kind of money in front of them, might as well attach whatever strings you want."
"Nope," I mutter. "That's the last damn thing I want."
"Right," he says, drawing the word out to let me know he thinks I'm full of shit. "You're just peachy-fuckin'-keen with everyone blaming you for his shit."
"Yeah." I meet his gaze, holding it. "If it means no one ever finds out what that motherfucker did to my mother, then yeah, Memphis. I'm peachy-fuckin'-keen with it."
"The shit he did to her? What about the shit he did to you? Don't forget, I know the truth. I'm the one who helped scoop your ass up off bar floors when you tried to drink it away."
"What he did doesn't matter."
"Jesus Christ." Memphis pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "One of these fuckin' days, man…"
"Don't start with me, Memphis," I mutter, throwing a hand up. "I don't press you. And unless you forget, I know the truth about your shit too."
He glowers at me.
I stare back.
Eventually, he mutters a curse, throwing up his hands. "You're a stubborn pain in the fuckin' ass, Brant."
"Right back at you, motherfucker."
He laughs, flipping me off.
"You going to help me or not?"
"Yeah, brother." He scrubs a hand through his long hair. "I'll help you. But I swear to Christ, if you get yourself killed, I'm going to be pissed about it."
"I'm not going to get myself killed."
"You better fuckin' not."
When I get back to my office, it's to hear peals of laughter echoing from inside. I hurry my steps, my heart pulsing in my chest. I'd know that laugh anywhere.
Isla is here again.
Christ, every minute I spend with her sinks her more deeply under my skin. I'm fucking crazy about her. And growing crazier about her by the day. I want my ring on her finger and my kid in her belly.
I know she's trying to keep her dad happy, but fucking hell. Sending her home every night is starting to piss me off. I want her in my arms, in my bed. It's where she belongs. It's where she wants to be, too. I thought she was going to cry when it was time for her to leave last night.
That shit killed me.
And it's precisely why I went to see Memphis today. I want this shit over with so I can tell Mac that she's mine. I want him to know that I can be a man worthy of her. And part of being that man means proving to her father that I can protect her. It means giving her what she needs. And right now, she needs her twin home with her.
I'll figure out the rest once I've accomplished that.
I step into my office, only to rock back on my heels when I realize that Isla and Daniel aren't alone. My mother is seated beside Isla, looking frail and worn, but happier than she's looked in longer than I can remember. She's got Isla's hand clutched in hers, their heads bent together.
I stand in the doorway for a long moment, just watching them. My mother is telling her…God only knows what. Probably something fucking embarrassing. But Isla listens intently, giving my mother her undivided attention.
Daniel stands off to the side, quietly observing.
He notices me first and quietly makes his way over to me. "She showed up about an hour ago," he murmurs, speaking quietly to keep from interrupting them. "I offered to call you, but once she realized Isla was here, she insisted I keep my mouth shut and let her wait."
"I bet she did," I say, eyes narrowed on my mother. She may be frail, but she's as stubborn as ever. It'll take more than a damn heart condition to rein her in now that she knows about Isla. Shit. I doubt anything will do that now.
I'm not mad about it. It's…good seeing her and Isla together. Real fucking good, actually. They both look happy as clams. It's been too long since Ma had that look on her face.
"Isla was upset about something when she got here," Daniel warns me.
I jerk my chin in a nod, grateful for the warning. And then I step forward, clearing my throat.
My mother and Isla spring apart, looking at me with matching guilty looks on their faces. It's fucking cute.
"Brantley! There you are," Ma cries.
I lean down, kissing her cheek. "What are you doing here, Ma?"
"Can't I come to visit my son?" she asks, all innocence. As if I'm buying that. I bet she stopped by just hoping to accidentally bump into Isla.
"You know you aren't supposed to be driving, Ma."
"Who says I drove?" she sniffs at me.
"Did you?"
"Maybe."
I grin, shaking my head. "You just couldn't wait to meet her, could you?"
"Well, she wouldn't have to wait if you'd have taken me to visit her already, Brantley," Isla says, jumping to her defense. "It's your own fault, really. You can't tell your mom that you met someone, and that you'll bring them over, and then not follow through immediately. That's just rude."
"Oh, so now I'm rude, huh?"
"Yes," Ma says. "Incredibly rude."
Isla bobs her head in agreement.
"Jesus Christ." I shake my head, laughing at the severe looks on their faces. "So, now you're both going to gang up on me and give me shit, aren't you?"
They exchange a glance and then nod at the same time.
I laugh again. "Of course you are."
"Someone needs to do it, Brantley Eugene," Ma sniffs. "You spend too much time worried about everyone else and not nearly enough time worried about yourself. Isla can help keep your priorities straight."
"My priorities are straight, Ma."
She sniffs at me again, holding out her hand to Isla. "Help me up, will you? I need to be getting home."
And part of me fucking hates that she asks Isla instead of me because she knows what being touched is like for me. But my girl immediately jumps to her feet, helping my mother to hers. And I push the guilt away, forcing myself to smile.
"Oh, so now that I'm here, you've got to run," I tease. "I see how it is."
"I've known your moody ass your whole life, dear. She's far more interesting than you are."
I growl at her, shaking my head. Christ, I love the hell out of her. Despite everything, my father never could kill her spirit. As hard as he tried, he couldn't break her. She's always been too goddamn strong for that.
Isla wraps her arms around my mom, hugging her. "I'll come visit you soon," she promises, mischief in her eyes when she glances at me. "I might even bring your son with me."
My mother laughs, squeezing her tight. "You're precious, Isla Sterling. If he doesn't do right by you, I'll never speak to him again."
"He does plenty right, Ms. Maureen."
My mother kisses her on the cheek and then grabs her cane and steps toward me. "Take me out to that fine cowboy of yours so he can walk me to my car, Brant."
"Yes, ma'am," I mutter, shaking my head. "I'll be right back, little bird."
"I'll be here," Isla says, grinning at me.
Ma and I stroll toward the door, her leaning heavily on her cane. The fact that she needs so much assistance worries the fuck out of me. She definitely shouldn't be driving.
"I'm going to have Daniel drive you home, Ma," I murmur. "You really shouldn't be out driving."
"Fine, fine," she sighs. "If it'll keep you from fussing."
"I wouldn't have to fuss if you'd behave."
"I'll behave if you will."
"I behave just fine."
"Mmhmm," she mutters, letting me know she thinks I'm full of shit. And then she sighs. "I didn't actually come to hunt down that sweet girl, Brant. That was just a bonus."
"Did you need something, Ma? You could have called."
"No, nothing like that," she murmurs, her cane tapping against the floor. "I suppose I just wanted to see this place again. It's been a long time." She glances down the long hallway, her gaze running over the gold records lining the walls. "We were happy here once. Before the drugs. Before…everything. I guess I wanted to see if any of the good memories remained or if they were all broken now, too. Is that silly?"
"No," I rasp, my voice thick. "It's not silly."
"Well, at any rate, I didn't find what I was looking for," she says with a sigh. "And I suppose that's for the best. I shouldn't be looking to hold onto good memories. It feels a little too much like hoping they'll undo the bad."
Fuck. I want to bring him back and kill him myself for tainting every inch of their life together. He's dead, and she still can't move on because his presence lingers, dragging her back there.
"I want you to fill this place with good memories to replace them, Brant," she says after a moment. "Steep this place in all the happiness he drained out of it. You make this a place worthy of that sweet girl. And you erase every mark he left on the company, you hear me?"
"That's the plan, Ma."
"Good." She smiles up at me, her expression serene. "Then take me to that gorgeous cowboy, dear. I'm ready to get out of here."
By the time I get back to my office, Isla is curled up behind my desk, her feet tucked up underneath her, staring out at the city. She looks exhausted.
I immediately stride toward her, lifting her out of the chair into my arms.
"I like your mom," she murmurs, laying her head against my shoulder. "She's really sweet, Brantley. She reminds me of our mom."
"Yeah?" I brush my lips across hers, settling down in the chair with her in my lap. That's high praise coming from her. In her book, Jenna Sterling can do no wrong. "She likes you too."
"I hope you don't mind that we spent time together," she says, chewing on her bottom lip. "She kind of insisted, and I couldn't tell her no."
"I don't mind, little bird. I haven't seen her smile like that in a long time."
"She adores you, you know." Isla peeks up at me, smiling sweetly. "She probably told me ten times what a good boy you are."
"She gets the paper," I mutter. "She knows what they've been saying. She's probably worried it'll scare you off."
"No!" Isla sits up on my lap, shaking her head. "She said it because she means it, Brantley. Because she wanted me to know how special you are. Even if the papers weren't printing stupid crap, she still would have said it because it's true." She cups my cheek, staring up at me. "You're incredible."
"Fuck," I groan, dragging her down to me to claim her mouth in a deep kiss. "Every time you say something sweet to me, you make my fucking cock ache, baby. You steal another little piece of my soul. Do it a few more times, and you'll own the whole damn thing."
"Yeah?" She smiles against my lips. "Maybe that's my plan, Brantley."
I growl softly and kiss her again.
She hums against my lips before settling down on my lap again with a sigh. For a long moment, she just lays against me, not speaking. It's unusual for her. She's usually got something to say about everything.
"Daniel said you were upset when you got here today. What happened, little bird?" I ask, running my fingers through her hair.
"I got to talk to Bella today," she whispers.
"That's a good thing, right?"
"Yeah." She clears her throat. "I don't think she's coming home, Brantley."
"Of course she will. As soon as–"
"She met someone in Texas," she says, cutting me off. "She's happy. Really happy." She swallows hard. "I think she's going to stay there with him."
Well, fuck. I'm not sure what to say. Ever since Bella left, Isla has been focused on getting her home. Finding out that her twin is happy where she's at had to hurt, even if she's happy for her.
"I'm sorry, little bird," I murmur. "I know how much you want her back here with you."
"I'm happy for her. You should have seen the way she was glowing. I've never seen her like that. She's always been so freaking busy, so unsettled. She wasn't like that today. She was…peaceful for once. Still. Like she finally figured out where she belonged." A tiny smile drifts across her face. "I guess I'm just a little sad for me too, you know? We've been together since we were in the womb. She's my best friend. I'm really going to miss having her here every day."
"Just because she isn't here every day doesn't mean you won't see her. She's still your twin. She'll still be your best friend."
"I know. It'll just be different now. I don't like change."
"No one does, baby."
She sighs, resting her head against my shoulder again. "I guess this means you can stop looking for information now, at least."
I hold her tightly, my lips against her crown, but I don't respond. Because even if Bella is staying in Texas…I don't think I can stop now. I need to see this through. It's the only way I can ensure Isla is safe. And maybe it's the only way I prove that I can actually be good for her.