Forty-Two
Montana
I might possibly be pouting. Staring out the window of Than’s truck while he drove us to “run some errands” because I needed to “get out of the cabin” and “stop working so much and come up for air.”
If I was working on school, then I wasn’t looking at him. And if I wasn’t looking at him, I wasn’t wallowing in my self-pity. But now I was stuck in a truck with him, going places, while he talked to me, and I had to make eye contact and respond.
I’d made it through this past week by working from morning to evening, then going to bed because I was too tired for whatever movie he tried to talk me into. The only night I had stayed up was when Gathe came to visit. He’d been a much-needed distraction.
“How does the mac ’n’ cheese bacon burger sound?” he asked.
I glanced at him. “Like colon cancer.”
His brows drew together. “Really? Come on, Six. Live a little. Eat the unhealthy goodness with me. There is a place across from the office supply store I need to run in that has the best fucking mac ’n’ cheese ever made.”
It actually sounded good, but I was in the mood to be difficult. I was frustrated. Sexually. I now understood that term. Every time I looked at him, I felt that tingle between my legs, and there was no relief from it. He had broken me. I wanted to go back to factory settings.
His phone dinged, alerting him of a text, and I glanced down at it as a reflex. Realizing what I’d done, I started to quickly look away, but there was a picture, and I recognized one of the two faces looking at the camera. I picked it up to look at it closer, and it was definitely who I’d thought it was.
“How do you know Wayon Davidson?” I asked, confused as to how their worlds could have collided.
Than’s head snapped around, and his eyes narrowed. “What?”
The sound of his voice made me jump. It was a bark, almost as if he was mad.
I held up his phone, then pointed at the road. “Watch where you’re going. I’d like to live today,” I told him. “But you got a text with a picture, and one of the guys is Wayon Davidson.”
I almost dropped the phone as Than swerved, and for a moment, I thought we were going to get in a wreck, but he was just pulling off the road in a very aggressive manner. I held on to the dashboard, letting his phone drop into my lap.
“What the actual heck, Than?” I asked angrily. “I thought I’d mentioned that I’d like to live.”
“How do you know Wayon Davidson?” he demanded.
Why was he so angry?
“How do you know Wayon Davidson?” I shot back at him.
His jaw jutted out as he clenched his teeth. “Montana, I need you to tell me how you know Wayon.” He said it calmer this time, but not less intense.
“Fine, Jesus. Calm down. He’s not a serial killer. He’s a nice guy,” I told him. “Mallory, a friend from school—well, back in Monroe—her older brother was an old friend of Wayon’s. They used to live in New Orleans, and her brother, Pax, and Wayon were friends. Played football together from like Toy Bowl or something. Anyway, they moved to Monroe during Mallory’s freshman year, and we became friends.”
Than held out his phone. “Let me see the picture.”
I handed it to him, and he pointed at Wayon.
“This guy. That’s Wayon.”
I nodded. “Yep. I think we already covered that. What is your deal, Than?”
“When did you meet him? How?”
I shrugged. “Um…I don’t know the exact date. Mom was really sick. It was near the end, right before the holidays. I’d missed a lot of school, and Mallory had been bringing me my work. One evening, she brought it and convinced me to get out of the house. Go have dinner with her and her brother. He had a friend in town, and she’d be bored, listening to them talk. She wanted to catch up with me. Wayon was the friend.”
He’d been nice. Asked me questions, seemed interested in my life. He’d made me laugh, telling me old stories about Mallory having a crush on him when she had been in middle school and the things she’d done to get his attention.
“Was that the only time you saw him?” Than pressed like the answer was life or death.
This was so weird.
I started to nod, then stopped. “Oh, wait, um, he came to my momma’s funeral with Mallory and Pax. I was a mess, and that day was hazy for me, but I think he even had flowers delivered to her grave. It was really thoughtful, seeing as I barely knew him. But that’s it.”
Than threw his phone on the dash and pulled back onto the road, turning around and going back the way we had come.
“Where are we going?” I asked, confused.
We’d not even made it to the first stop he had to make.
“Linc’s.”
“Why?”
He was still clenching his jaw. In fact, his entire body was tense. Like he was buzzing with…anger.
Was this all over Wayon? And why would Linc care?
“Because,” he said with a growl to his tone, “Wayon Davidson is the son of the leader of the Louisiana branch of the Southern Mafia.”
My eyes went wide. Had he just said Mafia?
“What?” I asked incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. A Mafia? In the South? And you think Wayon is a part of it? Than—”
“Yes, Six. A Mafia in the South. One that has a branch in every Southern state. They control who sits in office, they own cities, their power reaches throughout everything below the Mason–Dixon line. And, in some cases, stretches as far as Washington, DC.”
He was serious. He believed this. Did he think Wayon was who had been leaving me notes? That was ridiculous. I barely knew the guy, but he was a nice person. He was engaged to be married. He was probably married by now.
I crossed my arms over my chest as I stared at him. “Than, this Mafia in the South is probably an old tale. One that gives people something to gossip about.”
His head turned to me, but only for a second. “It’s not a tale. And I know that because my family has been a part of the Mississippi branch since 1928. And Linc is the leader of our branch. We put Baskin’s sorry ass in office because if we kept his reputation clean, then he’d make sure to overlook some of our…illegal dealings.”
My hands fell to my lap as I stared at him. Waiting for him to laugh and tell me he was joking. But he wasn’t going to. He was serious, and suddenly, everything that had happened since the day he and Linc had come to pick me up at the motel made sense.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Than sighed. “You said he got into the house you were staying at and left the letter. Well, we’re trained from an early age to move undetected, get into places we don’t have access to, and disarm security systems.” He glanced at me. “And cameras.”
“Oh my God.” The words fell from my lips again.
Than was a criminal.
“But…he’s married,” I said. “Wayon. He was engaged.”
Than shook his head. “Not anymore. He broke it off days before the wedding for reasons unknown and left town for two weeks.”
I sank back into the seat as my head began to spin. Things that I didn’t understand clicked into place. And one shock led to another. Disbelief, horror, but even then the regret didn’t come. I’d never regret Than. Not even after finding out that he was a member of organized crime. He still had taken a piece of my soul and made it his own.