35. Cairo
THIRTY-FIVE
cairo
“Hey, little brother. Have you seen Bay?”
It doesn’t matter that I’m mid-conversation with someone, my sister interrupts, and my full focus is on the name she spewed out like it was nothing at all.
Like it’s supposed to be normal.
Craning my head over to Luisa, she’s taking a sip out of a red Solo cup while her light brown eyes stare up at me expectedly as though I have tabs on Bay Astor all the time.
“Why would she be here?” I solicit loudly, because we’re in Brighton. Bougie as fuck city that holds too many entitled pricks but just enough money to invest in my companies for me to attend gatherings like this.
“Because I invited her,” she yells back over the music. “She said she’d be here.”
My gaze immediately floats around the pack of people surrounding us. The intense bass of techno music has been making my head throb for some time now. I risk being deaf in one, if not, both ears by tomorrow.
“Can you go find her for me?”
My glower pins back on my sister. “What am I, her keeper?”
“Yes.” Luisa bats her eyelashes at me. “Don’t act like we didn’t see that sparkle in your eye the other night at dinner.”
This is not a conversation I want to have while I’m in the middle of a business deal. So, I tuck my arm under my sister’s and excuse myself from the asshole with a million and one questions about how investing works and when he can expect a cut for his gambling problem.
An ongoing trend here with kids who have too much money and not enough responsibility.
Guiding my sister a bit away from the speakers to somewhere a tad quieter, I gently turn her around to face me to get better information.
“Why would Bay Astor be here?”
“To party,” she replies before she shifts her weight slightly. “And because I may have said she could sell her product for triple the amount.”
Geezus.
“Luisa,” I grind out, feeling my blood pressure spike a bit. “Don’t become her accomplice. This is above your pay grade.”
“She wants out, Cairo,” my sister argues with a lift of her chin. “This place is fucked up.”
It is.
However, my goal is to fix all that, but I can’t do it by myself. I need Wallace to side up with me. I need Emilio gone. I need Torin and Reeve to pull their heads out of their asses.
I need more of me to make it happen.
“I haven’t seen her,” I deadpan with a shrug. “Did you text her?”
“I have, but she hasn’t answered.”
I lift my shoulders. “Then I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe she changed her mind.”
Even though it’s highly unlikely. Bay could make a lot of money here depending on how much shit she’s carrying.
“Well, I don’t like her floating around here alone if she is here. Too many handsy dudes who are already half-cocked.”
I agree.
Which means I guess I’m on Bay duty tonight.
Seems to be an ongoing trend.
“I’ll do one sweep around,” I reply. “Then, I’m done.”
Luisa smiles brightly at me. “That’s so Prince Charming of you.”
“There’s nothing Prince Charming about me other than the fact that I rule this fucking city.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t act like it’s such a chore.”
“It is.”
“Then make it not one. That girl is fire, and you need someone good in your life.”
“I don’t need a girlfriend.”
“Sure about that?” She lifts an all-knowing eyebrow—in her head. My sister doesn’t know what I need and pussy isn’t that hard to come by. “You haven’t been with anyone since Vivian?—”
“I’m not about to talk about who I fuck with my sister,” I grumble, cringing a bit at the idea. “Drop it.”
“But you haven’t,” she retorts. “And I don't want you to be lonely."
Geezus fuck.
“I have been with someone else other than Vivian. I just don’t bring them home . Happy?”
“No. I’m talking about something with consistency. Someone you can actually talk to.”
“You know Bay was with Torin and Reeve, right?”
She blinks. “So?”
I stare at her because it’s not conventional. It’s why I’ve always kept a distance—that and she’s a pain in the ass.
I’m not blind.
Bay is gorgeous. She’s resilient and insane, but it makes her that much more interesting.
No matter how stupid she might be with some decision-making.
The woman isn’t afraid of shit.
“One sweep,” I tell my sister with a raised finger. “Then you and your friends can go spend the night hunting her down.”
“You’re the best.” Luisa gives me a nod, and then goes back to hanging out with her girlfriends with the confidence that I will track down the Little Terror of South Shore.
Just the idea of her rising to power shouldn’t be so damn appealing. Making moves with her, meeting and devising better ways to make our economies work; I could see her fitting the role.
However, she’s adamant about leaving, and all Emilio is going to do is make us hunt her down or send The Void out to do it for him.
I begin walking around the party, thinking of other ways to make her stay. The only other option I have is a sit-down with Wallace, and I haven’t been able to get one of those ever. He has a chip on his shoulder because of who has been sniffing around his little sidekick, and Reeve and Torin didn’t make this easier for me. I’m just as guilty by association when I haven’t reaped the rewards from that. All I did was kiss her, fantasize about more, and kept it moving.
I’m minutes into my search when I open the door to one of the adjoining rooms just to be met by a fight.
A man and a woman are going at it, and it takes me a few seconds to realize that it’s fucking Bay and Victor throwing hands.
Except one of his is wrapped tightly around Bay’s throat as she cocks back and delivers a punch right to the side of his head.
My feet move before my brain comes up with a plan of what to do.
I guess it’s obvious.
Neither one of them notices when I come up before my fingers lock around Victor’s and my other hand encloses around his neck.
I force him back, but he doesn’t release her, causing red-hot fury to course through my veins as I tighten my hold.
“Let her fuckin’ go,” I leer, gaining his attention, but this stupid motherfucker dares to defy me after I gave a direct order.
“She hit Stanton.”
So?
I want to hit Stanton.
It’s been on my to-do list for fucking weeks at this point.
“I said let her go,” I repeat. “Or you’re gonna be bleeding out on this floor where I’m going to leave you. And it’s gonna be a kill shot, Victor.”
His eyes narrow as if my command means nothing because I’m not Reeve.
This silly-ass prick has had a hard-on for my brother for years. And Reeve has done nothing to stop his little crush and obsessive ways because he fucks him every chance he gets.
Or he did.
That’s until Bay showed up.
Now, I’m dealing with a jealous male who may have found the problem he’s been facing.
And I don’t repeat myself three times to anyone.
Except the woman he’s still currently holding because there isn’t shit I can do to stop her. Every consequence comes with a counter-repercussion because she has Wallace on her side.
And he’s not my biggest fan, clearly.
Reaching for the 9mm tucked into my waistband, I pepper off two shots in Victor’s thigh, but he doesn’t go down.
He just flinches.
Stupid fucking high-on.
I know he’s been supplying Reeve with cocaine. I’ve also had a very specific talk with him to stop before I did what I just said I was going to do.
Two offenses, a bunch of repeating, Victor doesn’t take me seriously.
I might be the new reigning King of Wharf Bay, but it comes with a lot of work to gain the respect from an asshole like this that I used to run with. I’m one of three that head the Forsaken Crew, but Victor doesn’t see it that way.
Reeve is king, and he doesn’t need to answer to anyone but him because I don’t hand my cock out.
Won’t be either.
Without hesitation, I lift the gun before thrusting my opposite elbow down and into the crook of his. He drops Bay in an instant before I’m shoving him back and yanking on the trigger.
The bullet hits him in the throat, in the exact place he was holding my girl, and down he goes.
Finally.
His hands instantly go to the place I shot him, eyes wide with surprise then regret, but I’m already turning toward the woman who’s the start of all this.
“How the fuck did you get involved in this shit?”
Bay’s blue eyes come into view the moment I’m in front of her, and all she does is stare at me like I’m either fucking insane or she doesn’t get me.
I’d rather keep it that way.
But then I see the deep red claw marks of Victor’s fingers along the sides of her throat, and my jaw clenches at the same moment I hear the dickhead behind me gurgling. Possessiveness pushes through my chest when Bay’s lips part, but only one word comes out.
“Reeve.”
My focus immediately scans the room before I see someone lying on the floor behind her near the door I just waltzed in through.
Sandy blonde hair, on his back, sprawled out and high as fuck.
“I hit him.”
My eyes skate back to her, and I can’t help but think it was for a good reason. With the destructive way he’s been going on about shit and how hurt he is from Bay marrying Oz, I’m sure he was popping off at the mouth.
“He’s fine,” I deadpan.
She slowly rocks her head back and forth, and the innocence of it, the calm she exudes after this situation, has me reaching up to gently cup her chin between my thumb and index finger.
“How long?” I ask, examining the deep scratches and redness around her neck.
“How long, what?”
“Were you fighting him?”
“I dunno. He ran at me.”
I oughta throw a few more bullets—this time at his head—but I don’t hear him anymore, so I believe that time has passed.
“Good thing you know how to fight,” I mutter. “Otherwise, I may have come too late.”
“You came just in time.”
I glance up at her, finding her still staring back at me, and my cock twitches at those plush fucking lips and how hypnotizing those blue eyes are. “You’re trouble, Little T.”
“Isn’t that what my nickname is for?”
“Mhm.” I run the pad of my thumb across one of the scratch marks and feel Bay flinch for the first time. “Hurt?”
She bobs her head a bit, and I don’t know what the hell comes over me.
I must’ve gotten my wires crossed somewhere back when I was talking to Luisa because I’m bending forward and locking my lips around her throat as I lick away Victor’s touch and hold.
Bay gasps a little. This sweet and tiny sound that rocks my fucking body into rigid and fluid all in one swoop.
Her skin is warm. The smell of sweat and something sugary evades my senses as my lips lap over her flesh again. But she doesn’t move, and this isn’t normal for us.
In fact, it’s the furthest from the norm when both of us keep each other at arm’s length at all fucking times.
Pulling away, Bay’s fingers lace through my hair, only allowing me a bit of space as our faces align with each other.
“What are you doing, Sinatra? If I hadn’t lost so much oxygen, I’d say you just kissed me.”
“Just easing the pain, Little T.”
Her hold on my hair tightens just a bit when she whispers, “Who told you to stop?”
The sound of her voice—sweet and, oh, not-so-fucking-innocent—makes my dick hard as fuck. The way it brushed up against my lips, makes me want to smash mine violently to hers and call this shit a day.
“You did,” I manage to get out. “By how shell-shocked I just made you.”
“I’m not uncomfortable.”
Still…
“I think you’ve had enough excitement for one night,” I divulge, trying to supress the moment. “Wallace is gonna kill me for those marks.”
“Why?” she mutters, appearing half dazed. “You didn’t put them there.”
“But you were here with me.”
“I wasn’t here with you. But what you did…consider me swooned.”
I roll my eyes, but Bay makes her move, coming in for the kill shot when her soft mouth presses firmly into mine.
Her lips coax mine easily enough, slipping her tongue in between them like the venomous little snake she is.
Great men fall to women like this.
They’ve always been the smarter sex. Bay isn’t lacking in the sense that she could tempt the living shit out of me to do anything she wanted. I’ve gotten closer than I’ve been, and I don’t know if she’s noticed it or if fate decided to play, but I can’t help but pull her closer until our chests are flattened together.
Our tongues lightly battle, taking their time as we both fall into this. She wants what I can give her in this moment, and I want her to remain with me in the aftermath of the war that we’re trying to mend.
Without her and Wallace, I don’t know what follows. I need to forge alliances and paths, and she’s the gravel that’s going to get me there.
She wants peace just as much as I do, if not more.
But all she seems to desire from me, at this moment, is for me to kiss her and ease her back from what happened in this room before I arrived.
You just shot Reeve’s new fuck buddy for this chick.
A member of the Forsaken Crew.
And I’ll use that term loosely.
Reeve has never touched anyone on our crew before, which tells me he’s spiraling like a motherfucker.
Evenwith those details, I can’t bring myself to honestly give a shit that I just got rid of a problem. And that’s when Bay pulls back from me, as if sensing my inner turmoil. Instinctively my lips chase hers for the briefest of seconds before I reel it in.
I don’t like that she has marks on her.
I don’t particularly enjoy that Luisa’s words are in my head. But I do permit myself to remain in this moment for a second longer.
“I owe you,” she says, but she doesn’t move away when our mouths are still inches from each other’s.
“I owed you before,” I retort. “I’d say we’re even, but I promised you a video.”
“You’re still going to help me?”
I bow my head. “I’m still going to help you.”
“Why? This should be perfect for you to keep a wedge between Torin and?—”
“I don’t want to keep a wedge. I want you to stand by me as an equal when we take this old world down.” I lift a brow. “Haven’t I made that clear, Little T?”
Bay continues to gape at me as if investigating my words for the truth, but she would have to look hard to condemn me of them being anything else. I know trust is a hard thing for her, it is for me, too. Yet, one of us has to break down and try before it works against us instead of for us.
“Come to one of my races,” she blurts out, surprising the absolute hell out of me. “Maybe it’s time we start being seen together.”
The immediate answer that forms in my brain is fuck no . Nonetheless, her logic isn’t wrong, and I can’t say seeing her is a chore.
Since when?
“That might cause issues,” I deadpan, earning me a blank stare behind those vivid blue eyes. “You’re South Shore, about to possibly take The Landing seat, and?—”
“I am South Shore through and through,” she replies matter-of-factly. “And no one is going to question that. If anything, they’ll know I’m playing Emilio’s ass. I’ve never been power- hungry. I refused to be the head cheerleader in middle school because I didn’t want to boss people around.”
“ You were a cheerleader?” I can’t hide my astonishment because the thought of her jumping around with pom-poms has never been something I’d imagine her doing.
Now I am.
She smiles brightly as if proud of that feat or the surprise on my face. “For a month. Until I knocked Becky Dabish on her ass because she wouldn’t stop bossing me around. Apparently, I don’t like it.”
“Sounds like nothing’s changed.”
She nods and takes that moment to step away from me. “So, you’ll come?”
Fuck me. I think this girl has kissed me stupid.
“Where?”
“That’s top secret.” She rises on her toes and then falls to her heels. “I’ll have to text you the location when I’m there.”
Of course.
The elite and classified South Shore races.
“Alright. I’ll be there, Little Terror.”
“It’s a date.”
I shake my head. “Not really a date-date, but?—”
“You don’t want to go on a date with me?” Her face skews, but I see the twinkle in those damn blue irises signaling she’s fucking with me. “It comes with perks.”
“Such as?”
“You can hold my hand when you want to.” I hit her with an exasperated look, which makes her chuckle. “I’ll let you race me.”
“I don’t race.”
“Maybe you should. It’ll release some of that pent-up sexual tension you’ve got built up in that body, Sinatra.”
“I’ll handle that later with thoughts of that kiss you gave me earlier. That should take care of it for a while.”
She blushes, stroking my ego because I bet it’s not often she does that. “Right.”
I salute her with my fingers in silent acknowledgment, before she pivots and remembers Reeve is still on the floor.
Lowering to her haunches, she pushes back some of the hair from his face and strokes his forehead once before leaving the room.
Those two…
Shit.
Did I call her my girl earlier?