Chapter 8
Eight
Kash
Nothing? What the fuck?
“How is there nothing on Cressida Beck?” I demanded.
Ted didn’t work for the family exactly. He was more of a criminal, who was also a computer genius that we used for anything we didn’t want the family to know we were doing.
And when I said we, I meant the younger members of the Mississippi branch.
Sometimes, there were things we kept from our fathers and Linc.
“Dude, like I said, it’s like she doesn’t exist. I can’t find shit, and that never happens,” he replied.
“That’s impossible. I ran a background check on her seven years ago,” I told him.
“I’ll keep trying, but someone has her information blocked. Or the power to wipe it clean.”
Who would have that kind of power, and why?
The family.
Motherfucker.
“What about the license plate number?” I asked.
“That is registered to a Glenda Spencer. She lives in Madison. I’ll text you her address. But she’s, like, eighty-three years old, man. Has no relation to a Cressida Beck.”
“Who is Glenda Spencer related to? The name is familiar.” I’d heard it before.
“Give me a sec,” he said.
I sat silently, waiting as I listened to the sound of his typing.
“Ah, well, I’ll be damned,” Ted said, sounding amused.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I was prepared to not like what he was about to tell me.
“Glenda Spencer has one niece—Grissele Cash.”
Aunt Glenda. I didn’t need her address. I’d been to her house more than once with Crosby.
Putting on my blinker, I moved to the turning lane. Seemed it was time I went for a visit.
“Keep trying to get Cressida’s background check,” I told him before ending the call.
I made a U-turn, not caring that it was illegal at that stoplight. It was the least of the crimes I’d done in my life. My phone dinged, and I glanced down to see the address that Ted had sent me. Aunt Glenda hadn’t moved.
It wasn’t a fucking coincidence that Cressida was in Aunt Glenda’s Cadillac. Whatever the fuck my dad, Fender, and Linc were up to, I didn’t like them messing with Cressida’s life.
Why had she been in Glenda’s car? How had they connected the two? What other family did Glenda have? Was there a grandson or nephew I didn’t know about? Was Cressida with him? Did everyone know but me?
I stopped at the next red light as my internal battle waged on. My going to Glenda’s would get back to Linc. I’d likely be sent to fucking Alabama before nightfall. But they were keeping something from me. And Cressida was involved. What if she’d gotten married or was with some other guy?
My chest felt so goddamn tight that I had to rub it. FUCK! Why did I still care? She should be dead to me. What was it going to take to get her out of my head? I wanted my life back, here in Madison. And I’d gotten a chance to maybe convince everyone I was good to come home, and she had shown up.
When the light turned green, I didn’t go straight.
I wasn’t messing this up. I had to move on with my life and let this shit with Cressida go.
I turned right and headed toward the Carvers’ distillery instead.
Gathe was there. He’d texted me to meet him and Than for lunch, but I’d ignored it because I was waiting to hear what Ted had found out on Cressida.
Time to change my focus. Get my head straight again.
Than slid another bottle of whiskey across the table toward me. “Damn, it’s good having you home,” he said, picking up the glass he had just filled and taking a drink.
“Ain’t that the truth?” Gathe said with a slur.
We’d been drinking for a few hours now. It started with a game of Texas Hold’em and moved to a game of pool, and then we’d ordered burgers and kept drinking.
“Seems the only way we get Than over here for a guys’ night is having you here,” Gathe added.
“That’s not true,” Than replied.
“Yeah, it fucking is,” Forge said, walking back into the room with a bag of chips.
“No it isn’t! I was at Bane’s for the Egg Bowl,” he argued.
“That doesn’t count. You also had Montana on your lap,” Forge shot back at him.
“All the women were there, not a guys’ night,” Gathe pointed out.
Than shrugged then. “Well, Six is prettier than the two of you.”
Six was his nickname for Montana, his fiancée.
“You’re pussy-whipped,” Gathe told him.
Than nodded. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely I am. Completely obsessed with her.”
I opened the bottle and filled my glass. I was glad Than was happy, but hearing how happy his woman made him brought back shit I was trying to shove away. Lock up. Forget.
“It’s almost nine o’clock, and you’ve had me for six hours,” Than said, taking another drink. “But Six will be home from her Christmas shopping trip soon.”
Gathe groaned. “Leaving before ten? The night is young.”
“And once I leave, the three of you can move this party to the strip club.”
He had a point. That would be a distraction.
“Good idea.” Gathe nodded.
“I’m in, but none of us needs to drive,” Forge replied.
“Where’s Locke?” I asked, realizing that we’d left the distillery and come to Gathe and Locke’s place and Locke hadn’t been home during that time.
“With Ransom and Oz. They’re handling a bet that is overdue. Oz is collecting this week, and they’ve got one that’s over five mil unpaid,” Gathe said.
Oz handled the gambling side of the business.
He’d been the bookie for the Mississippi branch for years.
Not a job I’d want. But my brother was good at it.
Only once had he almost lost a large amount, and he abducted the man’s sister to draw him out of hiding.
But while he was holding her captive, he had gotten obsessed with her. She was now my sister-in-law.
“Who went with the girls shopping then, Bane?” Forge asked before shoving a chip in his mouth.
“And Father Jude,” Than added.
“What’s he gonna do? Pray for them?” I asked, smirking as I took a drink.
“Jude’s gotten pretty damn good with his Glock,” Than said.
“I’ve been working with him,” Gathe added, leaning back in his chair.
“Well, I’m sure he’s lethal then,” I replied with a roll of my eyes.
Forge burst out laughing and sank down on the sofa.
“You’re all assholes,” Gathe grumbled and took another drink.
This was what I’d missed. It wasn’t the same in Alabama. The guys there weren’t the ones I’d grown up with and trained with. I wanted this back. Not going to Glenda’s today had been smart.
My text sound went off, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
Butler: Missing Bama yet?
Out of all the guys in Alabama, Butler was who I’d gotten close to. Dixon and I had been tighter once, but my fucking Jazz had made things different. I’d not realized it would at the time. Jazz was annoying at best. I hadn’t known he had a real thing for her.
Me: Eh, not exactly. It’s good to be home.
He’d been joking. He had known I wanted to go back to Mississippi. He understood. He’d feel the same if he had to leave Alabama.
“You got a piece of ass back in Bama?” Gathe asked.
I shook my head. “No. I don’t do anything clingy. Too much work.”
“Right?”
Watching the others all hooked up looked boring as fuck. At least that was what I was going to keep telling myself.
“Keep talking. It’s coming for you one day,” Than said, grinning like he knew something we didn’t.
But I did. I knew. I’d felt that way about a girl once. Nothing came before her. She had been all I lived for. And when it was ripped from you, it was excruciating pain. He didn’t know about that. Only I did.
My phone went off again, and I looked down at it.
Butler: Dixon and Jazz started fucking again. That’s good news for you. At least she’ll leave you alone. Other than that, the only thing happening here is Mullens knifed a dude at the Doghouse last night for mouthing off. Guy ended up being the Baptist preacher’s son.
This wasn’t unusual. Mullens had a temper and a mean streak. I’d had to get him off folks more than once so we didn’t have a messy cleanup. He’d seen his father killed when he was five, and Butler had said he was never the same after. Messed him up in the head.
I didn’t want to respond right now because I just didn’t care. I wanted to forget Alabama for the time being and just enjoy this. Being where I belonged.