13. Lainey
THIRTEEN
LAINEY
“What about this one?” Ruby holds up an oversized mirror with a heavy bronze frame. “It’s giving luxury mountain resort.”
I shake my head, navigating our cart around a towering display of autumn-themed throw pillows.
“Nah, too ornate. It’ll overpower the space.” My eyes land on a sleek, minimalist mirror with a slim black frame. “That one, though. It’s perfect.”
Ruby sets the bronze mirror back on the shelf.
“Fine, but we’re getting the faux fur throw blanket to go with it.”
She tosses the plush gray blanket into our cart before I can protest.
I can’t help but laugh.
Shopping with Ruby always turns into an adventure, especially when it comes to decorating. Her bold style is the polar opposite of mine. But she has a knack for pulling together a look. And right now, I need all the help I can get.
It’s been two weeks since I moved into Marcus’s cabin, and I’m still adjusting to the change. His place is rustic and cozy, but it’s missing those personal touches that make a house feel like a home. Which is why I jumped at the chance to do some shopping when Ruby offered to join me on her lunch break.
As we make our way through the aisles of the upscale home goods store, I can’t help but feel a little out of my element. But Ruby seems right at home, confidently tossing items into our cart like money is no object.
“Ooh, look at these!” She holds up a set of hand-painted ceramic coasters. “They’d be perfect for that reclaimed wood coffee table Marcus has.”
I hesitate, running my fingers over the intricate floral design. They’re absolutely stunning, but the price tag gives me pause.
“I don’t know, Ruby. They’re pretty expensive.”
Ruby rolls her eyes, plucking the coasters out of my hands and adding them to the cart.
“So what? Marcus gave you his credit card for a reason. He wants you to make his place feel like yours. Didn’t he say so himself?”
I bite my lip, guilt twisting in my stomach. She’s right, of course.
When Marcus handed me his AmEx this morning, he’d told me to get whatever I wanted. No limit. The man never even glances at price tags. It’s one of the many things I’m still getting used to in our relationship.
“Lainey, come on. Live a little!” Ruby bumps her hip against mine, jarring me out of my thoughts. “You’re not just playing house anymore. This is your home now, too. You deserve to make it feel like your own personal oasis.”
She reaches past me to grab a set of luxurious silk pillowcases in a rich, jewel-toned emerald green.
“Can’t you just picture these on Marcus’s bed? Talk about taking things to the next level.”
Ruby waggles her eyebrows suggestively and I feel my cheeks flush. She’s not wrong. Those pillowcases would look incredible against the dark wood of Marcus’s headboard. I can practically feel the smooth silk beneath my skin already, cool and inviting after a long day.
“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me,” I relent with a laugh, taking the pillowcases from her and draping them over the growing pile of items in our cart. “But if Marcus has a heart attack when he sees the credit card bill, I’m blaming you.”
Ruby scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Please, that man is so gone for you, he’d buy out this entire store if you asked him to.”
I can’t help but smile at that, warmth blooming in my chest. It’s true. Marcus has made it abundantly clear that he wants me to feel completely at home in his space. Our space. And little by little, I’m starting to get there.
As we continue to wind our way through the store, I let myself get lost in the thrill of it all. The plush throw rugs and cozy knit blankets. The glimmering copper cookware and artfully crafted serving dishes. Each item feels like a small piece of a puzzle, slowly but surely coming together to create a picture of the life Marcus and I are building.
By the time we reach the checkout counter, our cart is piled high with treasures. The total on the register makes my stomach drop for a moment, but I swallow back the anxiety and hand over Marcus’s credit card with a smile.
Ruby helps me load the bags into my car, and as we slide into our seats, she turns to me with a curious expression.
“So, be honest. How does it feel to be living with your very own mountain man? Do you feel at home yet?”
I pause, considering the question. “I’m getting there,” I admit. “It’s a big adjustment, but Marcus makes it easy. He’s so thoughtful, always going out of his way to make sure I’m comfortable.”
I fiddle with the hem of my shirt, a flicker of guilt sparking in my chest. “I do miss you though. And Spike.”
“Stop that right now.” Ruby squeezes my arm. “We’re fine. Spike’s living his best life. He’s even claimed your old reading nook as his new basking spot. Plus, he’s a better roommate than my last three dates combined.”
I wince. “That bad?”
“Worse.” She rolls her eyes. “The latest one showed up wearing cargo shorts and started mansplaining tattoo art to me. In my own shop.”
“No.”
“Oh yes. Then he tried to convince me that his badly drawn tribal design was ‘deeply meaningful’ and that I just ‘didn’t understand art. At least Spike appreciates my artistic vision. And he doesn’t text me at 2 AM asking if I want to ‘hang out.’”
I shake my head in disbelief as Ruby recounts her latest dating disaster. “I don’t know how you put up with it. I’d have kicked him out the second he started mansplaining.”
“Oh, believe me, I was tempted.” Ruby laughs. “But then I remembered I have a business to run. Can’t exactly go around assaulting potential clients, no matter how much they might deserve it.”
We chat and laugh as I navigate the busy streets and before long, I’m pulling up in front of Ruby’s tattoo shop. The storefront is painted a glossy black, with Ruby’s distinctive scrolling logo emblazoned over the door in metallic gold leaf. Large plate glass windows offer a glimpse inside the studio, where Ruby’s artwork covers nearly every available surface.
I put the car in park and turn to face Ruby. “Thanks again for today. I really needed this.”
“Anytime, babe.” Ruby reaches over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You know I’m always here for you.” Her green eyes sparkle with affection as she gathers up her purse and shopping bags. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? And tell that mountain man of yours I expect an invite to dinner soon. I need to make sure he’s treating my girl right.”
“I will, I promise.” I lean over to hug her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her jasmine perfume. “Love you, girlie.”
“Love you too. Now go on, get out of here. Go play house with your sexy lumberjack.” She winks at me as she slides out of the car, her vibrant hair gleaming under the autumn sun.
I’m just pulling away from the curb when my phone starts buzzing in the cupholder. I glance down at the screen, expecting to see Marcus’s name, but it’s an unknown number. Frowning, I hit the button on my steering wheel to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, kiddo.”
My heart stops.
“Derrick?” I grip the phone tighter, moving further from Ruby. “How are you calling me right now? This isn’t the prison number.”
“That’s because I’m not in prison anymore.” Music pulses in the background, mixed with the clink of bottles and bursts of male laughter. “I did a favor for a friend. He got out early on good behavior,” Derrick says, his voice nearly drowned out by the raucous noise in the background. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”
I pull over to the side of the road, my hands shaking as I put the car in park. “That’s one word for it.”
A thousand emotions swirl through me at once. Shock, disbelief, a flicker of cautious joy. It’s been three long years since I’ve seen my brother outside of a prison visitation room. Three years of collect calls and carefully censored letters, of missing him so much it feels like a physical ache.
But beneath the initial rush of happiness, there’s an undercurrent of anxiety. Of fear. Because as much as I love my brother, I know the kind of trouble he can get into. The kind of danger he attracts.
“I stopped by the diner looking for you,” Derrick says, jarring me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Wanted to surprise my baby sister. But Joe said you weren’t in today.”
“No, I...I had some errands to run.” I pick at a loose thread on my jeans, trying to steady my racing heart. “I didn’t know you were getting out.”
“Yeah, well, I wanted it to be a surprise.” He pauses, and I can practically hear the grin in his voice. “Listen, why don’t you come down to the clubhouse? We’re throwing a little welcome home party.”
My stomach drops. Every instinct screams that this is a bad idea.
“I don’t know, Derrick...”
“Come on, Lainey-girl.” His voice softens, and suddenly, I’m ten years old again, crying over a scraped knee while he bandages it. “Three years is a long time. I missed you. Missed my sister.”
I close my eyes. Marcus would never forgive me for going anywhere near the Kings. Everything I know about them screams danger. But the lost little girl in me, the one who still remembers when Derrick was her hero, whispers louder.
I sigh. “What time?”
“That’s my girl. Come by around three. I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
The Southside Kings clubhouse looms at the end of a desolate road on the outskirts of town.
Rusted barbed wire crowns the towering chain link fence surrounding the sprawling property. The crumbling sidewalk leading to the entrance is littered with cigarette butts and shards of broken beer bottles that glint menacingly in the late afternoon sun.
I pull my car to a stop outside the ominous black gates and cut the engine.
With trembling fingers, I pull out my phone and check for any messages from Marcus.
Nothing.
Part of me hopes he’ll somehow sense where I am, that he’ll call and give me an excuse not to go through with this. But the screen stays blank and accusing. I’m on my own.
I’m just about to shove my phone back in my pocket when movement near the clubhouse catches my eye. A figure detaches from the shadows by the door and starts toward me, his stride loose and predatory. Panic seizes in my chest for a split second before I recognize my brother’s familiar gait.
But as Derrick draws closer, I realize just how much he’s changed. Prison has hardened him, sharpening the angles of his face and adding new tattoos to his skin. .
I take a deep breath and step out of the car, my legs feeling shaky as I make my way toward him. Derrick meets me halfway, his face splitting into a grin that’s achingly familiar despite the changes.
“There she is,” he says, pulling me into a tight hug. His arms are more muscular than I remember, his chest broader. He smells like cigarettes and cheap beer, with an underlying hint of something sharper.
“Hey, big brother,” I murmur into his shoulder, my throat tight with emotion. “Welcome home.”
Derrick releases me, holding me at arm’s length to look me over.
“Look at you. All grown up.”
His gaze lingers on my face, and for a moment, I see a flicker of the old Derrick, the one who used to chase away my nightmares and sneak me extra dessert.
Then it’s gone, replaced by the hardened stranger with the prison tattoos.
“Come on, let’s get inside,” he says. “The boys are dying to meet you.”
He slings an arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the clubhouse. As we step through the doors, the thudding bass of music hits me like a physical blow. The main room is dim and hazy with smoke, packed wall to wall with leather-clad men and scantily clad women.
As we weave through the crowd, Derrick stops to exchange greetings and backslapping hugs with several men. He introduces me briefly, but the names and faces blur together in the smoky haze.
Finally, he guides me to a booth in the back corner, the cracked vinyl seats worn and sticky beneath my jeans.
“So,” Derrick says as we slide into opposite sides. “Tell me everything. What’s new with you?”
I shrug, fiddling with a cardboard coaster on the scarred tabletop. “Not much. Just working at the diner, same as always.”
Derrick nods, signaling to a passing prospect for two beers. “And you’re still living with Ruby?”
“Actually, no.” I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. “I recently moved in with someone.”
Derrick’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh yeah? Anyone I know?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, he’s...new in town.”
The prospect returns with our drinks, and I take a long swig of the cheap beer to avoid my brother’s probing gaze. As the cold liquid slides down my throat, I gather my nerve.
“So, this friend of yours,” I say carefully. “The one who helped you get out early. Who is he?”
Derrick’s eyes shutter, his easy grin fading. “No one you need to worry about.”
I sigh, setting my beer down with a thunk. “Derrick, come on. You can’t just show up out of the blue after three years and expect me not to have questions.”
Derrick runs a hand over his close-cropped hair, his jaw clenching. “I told you, it’s not important. What matters is that I’m out and we’re together again. Just like old times.”
He flashes me a charming grin, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I study his face, trying to reconcile this hardened man with the brother I remember.
“Actually, speaking of old times,” Derrick says, leaning back in the booth with a calculating look, “have you ever thought about selling the diner?”
I blink, taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. “What? No, of course not. That diner is our family’s legacy.”
Derrick waves a dismissive hand.
“Sure, sure. But think about it, sis. That place is a money pit. Always has been. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Why waste it slaving away in that greasy spoon?”
I bristle at his description. “It’s not a waste. The diner is important to me, Derrick. To our family. I’m not just going to sell it off to the highest bidder.”
“And I get that, I do,” he says, his voice slipping into that persuasive tone I remember from childhood. The one that always preceded him talking me into something reckless. “But at least hear me out. I’ve got this friend, a business associate. He’s always looking for new investment opportunities. I think you two should meet.”
A chill slides down my spine despite the stuffy heat of the clubhouse.
“Derrick, I’m not interested in selling to one of your ‘business associates.’ I don’t even want to know what kind of business he’s in.” I slide off the bar stool, needing to escape before whatever’s about to happen starts. “Listen, I should go. I have some errands to run.”
“Hold up.” Derrick’s hand catches my arm, his grip firmer than necessary. He glances around before lowering his voice. “You wouldn’t happen to have any cash you could spare? Just to tide me over until I get things sorted?”
My stomach drops. Of course. Three years, and this is what he really wanted.
“Actually, I don’t.”
“Come on, kiddo.” His fingers tighten slightly. “I’m family. Just a couple hundred to get me started?”
I think about the stack of unpaid bills in my office drawer. About the repairs the diner needs. About Dad’s face the last time Derrick asked him for money.
“I’m sorry, Derrick. I really can’t.”
Something cold flashes in his eyes before he masks it with a smile that doesn’t reach them.
“No worries, baby sis. Forget I asked.” His hand drops from my arm. “I’ll figure something out.”
The way he says it makes my skin crawl. He’s already turning away, calling out to someone named Blade, but I can’t shake the feeling that this conversation isn’t really over.