3
JAY
When he got to the bar, Chris was already waiting outside, leaning against his car. It was a Monday evening, so Chris must have come straight from work based on his nice suit. He moved away from the car when he spotted Jay, somehow managing to look both tired and too damn pretty.
“Hi,” Chris said.
Jay stopped in front of him, an unexpected rotten feeling crawling in his guts. There wouldn’t have been a Nasty Ben if there wasn’t a Chris Roberts.
Chris must have sensed the brewing storm. He tensed and took a step back, which hit Jay like a slap in the face. Common sense peeked through the fumes of his rage before he could do anything stupid. He reminded himself to be grateful for at least having someone to hang out with on this shitty evening.
“Thanks for meeting me.”
Chris arched an eyebrow. “I asked you to meet me.”
“Hmm, yeah. That’s what I meant.”
They walked inside and were greeted by good-old Rage Against the Machine. Jay said hello to Henry and ordered two beers, a Pilsner for himself and a Guinness for Chris. They took their drinks to one of the booths, keeping far away from the speakers. The place smelled smoky, although no one smoked.
“You had a bad day?” Chris asked carefully.
Jay drank his beer. Maybe he should have gotten something stronger. By now, beer might as well have been milk. “Why are you asking?”
Chris shrugged. “You look like you had a bad day.”
“I guess you can say that, but we’re not here to talk about me.”
“We can talk about you as well. What happened?”
“I don’t want to get into that.”
Chris held his gaze; one of the few people who could do that for more than a few seconds. “I’m going to dump a lot of heavy stuff on you in a minute. Only fair for it to go both ways.”
Jay ran his fingers over the sweaty beer glass. “I had a surprise visit from someone I haven’t seen since prison. Someone I didn’t want to ever see again.”
Chris shifted in his seat. Prison was not a topic they talked about, even after their truce. “He came to the garage to find you?”
“No. He needed an oil change, and fate decided to kick my ass. Or rather, my balls.”
“You guys had a fight?”
Jay snorted. “Nasty Ben isn’t someone you want to fight with. I mean, you want to, but it takes a really stupid man to try. He was one of the guys who made my prison time a living hell.”
“Did he try something today?” Chris asked quietly.
“Yes, but it could’ve gone a lot worse.” He needed to remind himself that. “At least he’s leaving the city. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“It’s okay if you won’t.”
“Nah, I can’t let it keep me down. The fucker doesn’t deserve that power.” Jay leaned forward, the cold glass between his palms. “Enough about my shit. What’s up with you? Something to do with Mickey?”
“No, he’s busy with his silly campaign for mayor. I barely see him.” Chris sat a bit straighter, as though he was bracing himself. “After you guys left my house on Saturday, I had a visit from my adoptive brothers.”
“Brothers?”
“Trevor and Andy. Their parents were Robert and Kimberly.”
“The ones who died recently?”
“The ones who died and left me all of their money.”
“The hell? To you?”
Chris nodded. “When their lawyer called me, I didn’t bother hearing him out. I just told him that I don’t want anything to do with that family, dead or alive.”
“I’m guessing that Trevor and Andy weren’t so happy about that will. But since you told the lawyer you didn’t want that money, the brothers can take it and piss off.”
Chris sighed, looking even more tired. “That would’ve solved everything, yes. Unfortunately, Robert Mitchell is trying to kill me from the grave.”
Jay leaned forward, the table pressing against his ribs. “Don’t put things like that in your head. Ghosts are just ghosts. Can’t you take the money from the will and pass it over?”
“I’m not allowed access to that money for the next two years. Nobody can touch it until then.”
Jay had little experience with wills and money in general, but he suspected a two-year delay was not common. “I’m guessing Trevor and Andy aren’t interested in waiting patiently.”
“Andy doesn’t care about anything. Trevor is the one calling the shots, and he’s almost a million dollars in debt.”
“A million dollars?!”
Heads turned their way, maybe thinking they had won the lottery.
Chris lowered his voice. “Trevor always looked for easy business opportunities because it was simpler than getting a regular job. I’m guessing he used his parents’ money to make some bad investments and didn’t take care of his debt in time.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem? You can’t make a million dollars appear with a snap of your fingers.”
Something dark flashed in Chris’s eyes. He took a sip of beer. “Trevor doesn’t want me to snap my fingers—he wants to snap my neck.”
Jay frowned. “Meaning?”
“The will has three conditions. First, I can’t waive the money without it going to charity. Second, the money will only go to me after two years. Third, the money will go to Trevor and Andy immediately if I were to die during those two years.”
Jay’s head spun. The beer gushed unpleasantly in his stomach. “Was he really that sick in the head?”
“Robert was a practical man.” Chris sounded surprisingly steady, although cold. “He wanted results, and he didn’t tolerate failure. For a while, he thought he found what he was looking for in me, but I left him the first chance I got. Apparently, he’s never forgiven me.”
“Did he really expect you to stay there after all the things they did to you?” Although, in truth, Jay didn’t have a real grasp of Chris’s life with the Mitchells. Hell, he knew practically nothing. But he remembered vividly the haunted look in Chris’s eyes when he’d talked about his adoptive family back in the cabin.
“Robert fully expected me to stay with him and his family. The way he saw it, they had swept me away from a miserable life and given me a better one. Everything was a reasonable price to pay for the chance to be Robert’s pupil and a part of his family. When I left, he told me that after two failed sons, he couldn’t believe he was going to have a third one. I told him that I had never been, or ever would be, his son.” Chris took another sip of beer. “By writing his will this way, he’s either going to make Trevor and Andy regret failing him, or me.”
“Chris, you’re a lawyer. They don’t pay you so much for nothing. Find a legal way to get rid of that damn money.”
“I spoke with the Mitchells’ lawyer today. The man is exhausting, but he agreed to help me search for a possible creative solution.”
“Good.”
Chris shook his head. “He’s unlikely to find anything, but it gives me a bit of time to figure something out.”
“Any ideas?”
He shrugged. “To leave the city with Melissa and the twins and to change our names. Nothing drastic.”
Jay snorted. “At least you’re not freaking out.”
“Freaking out?” The look in Chris’s eyes was downright chilling. “Trevor and Andy are going to kill me, Jay. There’s no other way for this to go.”
“Is that so?” Jay shook his head. “If I didn’t kill you after prison, no one else is going to.” Already, a primal part of his brain kicked in, making the wheels in his head spin faster.
“Do Melissa’s parents still live in Massachusetts?”
“Yes.”
“Can you make her stay with the twins there for a while?”
Chris narrowed his eyes. “I can think of something.”
“Do that. Let’s get them out of the way as soon as possible. What about going to the police?”
“I have no proof. Trevor is too smart to threaten me on record. And if I get him arrested, he’ll become more desperate and unpredictable.”
Jay could see how that wouldn’t play in their favor. “Okay, so no police for now. Once your family is out of the house, you’re either moving in with me, or I’m moving in with you.”
Chris leaned forward like he hadn’t heard him right. “What?”
“You need protection, don’t you? It might be best for me to move in with you for a while; you saw how small my place is.”
“Are you really willing to do that?”
That question irked Jay. “Are you thick or something? Your life might be in danger. You think I’m not going to take it seriously?” And he had promised to take care of Chris’s monsters. Although, to be fair, he’d mostly wanted to calm him down after Dima attacked him, and he definitely hadn’t counted on being called into service so goddamn soon. “Did you tell Ethan and Anthony about this?”
Chris shook his head. “No, I don’t want to.”
“Didn’t the four of us agree to stop with secrets?”
“I know, but Ethan is finally starting a new job tomorrow, and he doesn’t need my shit to deal with. If I tell Anthony, he won’t keep it a secret from Ethan. I didn’t even want to dump this on you.”
“But I made you a promise.”
“Yes.” There was no remorse in Chris’s eyes. A promise had been given, and now he was collecting.
Smart man.
“Do you have a gun?” Jay asked.
“No.”
“We’ll need to get you one.”
Chris opened his mouth to protest, but ended up nodding. “Good idea.”
“Best thing would be if those two tried to break into your house and we ended up taking them down. Self-defense is a beautiful thing.”
“I agree, but you can’t be with me around the clock.”
That was true. “Talk with Mickey tomorrow. Maybe he can come up with something.”
“Mickey?”
“Can you think of anyone better? The man’s a rotten snake, but he likes you. Use that.”
Chris nodded, some color back in his cheeks. He truly had been in the process of accepting his upcoming death, Jay realized.
Not on my watch.
Jay leaned back and shook his head. “You must be the unluckiest son of a bitch I’ve ever met, and I’ve been to prison.”
Chris finished his beer. “This unlucky son of a bitch needs a new shiny gun.”
“You want it to be shiny? Damn, you’re picky. Let’s go.”