Chapter 20 #2
One of these days, he’ll grow tired of it and leave. He’s been on my six since he got out of the military. It has something to do with sticking close so that he can collect on my debt to him on his terms. Bastard.
“Nah, man.”
He’s switched from “boss” to “man,” which means we’re talking personal rather than business. I hate when Slate brings up my personal life. He likes fucking with it every chance he gets, taking on the big brother, mentor role since we served together.
Someday, I’ll settle my debt and tell him to fuck off and go make his dream of becoming a detective come true. For now, he’s a keeper with how well he helps me handle the business. He and Dom do a great job of keeping Crimson running smoothly and the ledger in the black.
“Finish what you started before the club and the women took up all your time. Find the dirtbag who put the hit on you. Dig deeper into why Carlos ate that bullet for you. I have a gut feeling it has to do with this girl you have a hard-on for.”
“And get beaten to a pulp for going anywhere near Pretty Boy Ty’s little sis? Get taken out by the knee after he kicks me in the fucking balls?”
“A beating is better than going through women like you’re living your last day on this earth. Fucking won’t make the guilt go away.”
Slate’s right. A woman under or over me doesn’t get rid of the guilt or the emptiness weighing me down every time I relive that night two years ago.
I blow out a breath and rub the spot over my heart, pretending I’m brushing off a piece of lint.
It should’ve been me with a bullet through the heart and not Carlos.
“Fine, so I take the beating. But I’ll get worse from Gwen.”
“Then keep it on the down-low. Take Midnight up on his offer.”
“Hold up. Are you encouraging me to buy the money pit?” My cell phone on my desk rings.
“Why are you asking when I gave you the bloody answer?”
“The house needs a shit ton of work.” I glance at the screen. Speak of the devil.
“Do you believe in coincidences?”
My cell lights up. I flip it over. “Not since I ran into my father at the hardware store in McMillan.” My mother told him where I’d be.
When I ran into him in the paint section as a sixteen-year-old, it was like looking at an older version of me, except for the eyes. My eye color came from my mom’s side of the family.
It was the day I discovered my father’s identity and that he had a family. My mother was the other woman, and I had five half-siblings.
Were there more of us we didn’t know about? People are slaves to their habits, and if my father cheated once, he’d do it again. He denied fathering more illegitimate children, but I wasn’t convinced.
“What about things happening for a reason?”
Midnight resorts to calling when his text messages go unanswered. He’s a persistent SOB. “For fuck’s sake, get to the point, Slate.”
With my luck, Midnight will show up at Crimson. The bastard hates being ignored. I’m not ignoring him. I’m stalling for time, giving more thought to Slate’s demand that I end whatever the person who wished me dead had started.
“Ever’s renting the house that backs up to the money pit, man. A fence separates the two houses. Do some reconnaissance. Finish this and get your truth. The threat is still out there.”
“Braxton gets out in a month.” Gwen texted.
“That’s good. Your sis misses him.”
She does. “Yeah, he’s her favorite. Not sure why.”
“I know why.”
I cock a brow. “Yeah? Pray tell?” Since meeting my little sis, I’ve wanted to be her favorite brother.
“Braxton lives on the fly, man, and he does it with one foot in the grave and one foot on solid ground.”
There’s respect in Slate’s voice, and I’m ashamed when the green-eyed monster rears its ugly head.
It isn’t easy keeping the blasted emotion at bay when Braxton comes up in conversation.
The half-brother who’s a week older has our father’s love and respect; he’s Gwen’s favorite, and our other brothers fawn over him because he’s the youngest of the four of them.
I’d give up my left kidney for even half of what he has.
“Are you telling me that to be number one in my sis’s heart, I should live dangerously and without a thought of the consequences?”
“I’m saying, live more and work less.”
Maintaining a routine in my life is my safety cushion. Deciding to live more and going with Carlos’s lamebrain idea to revive East Alexandria cost me a friend and mentor. I’m not going down that road again. I’ll stick with routine until I’m in my grave.
“Stealing cars and getting paid by their owners is not my MO.” Unemployment is a choice for Braxton.
So is living on the fly and dangerously since he discovered he can earn a living without the constraints of a clock-in, clock-out 9-to-5 job.
“Anything new on Bram and Benedict?” They won’t say jack shit to me, but they’ll run their mouths off to Slate.
“Other than they’re working with the McCabes, none.”
Bram and Benedict were twenty and already on deployment when my father dropped the proverbial bomb that I was part of his large family.
That day in the paint aisle was life-changing. Suddenly, I wasn’t an only child supporting an ailing mom. I had a family, and damn it, I reached for that lifeline with the first ounce of hope I’d felt in a long time. But it was a false hope.
My brothers wanted nothing to do with me. I was our father’s dirty secret, and they sided with their mother. She refused to acknowledge my existence, and I’m fucking fine with that. She wasn’t the other woman. My mother was.
“Maybe those two motherfuckers put the hit on you.”
“For what reason?” I grab my cell and tap on the screen. There are eight messages from Midnight.
“To get you out of the picture. To erase your father’s sin. Your half-brothers are all about fidelity, man.”
They are, I’ll give them that. “Then they should’ve offed my old man,” I casually say.
Inside, I’m pissed that I didn’t have a say in who my father is, though there is an upside to having Branson as my old man. I’ll never put a kid through what he put me and my half-siblings through. Because of him, I detest liars and cheaters.
My phone rings.
Slate tips his head at the ringing phone. “Tell Midnight you’ll take him up on the offer. I’ll deal with my cousin. Have Dom keep an eye on the club.”
I shake my head. “You’re a fucking bossy motherfucker.”
“It’s the reason you keep me around, man. I keep you in line. Keep your dick from rotting off, too, when I step in and take the women home rather than letting you wet your dick. One of these days, one of them will go feral and stalk you the fuck down.”
“I make it clear the sex is no strings.”
“That’s not what happened with the last woman.”
I answer the call and warn Slate with a scathing glare not to bring up Iris again. “Hey, Midnight. What can I do you for?”
“I need an answer on the house. Riley has a friend. Her brothers are into flipping houses, and they’d like to buy the place. I told them you have first dibs. So, what’s it gonna be?”
I blow out a breath. Fuck. Can I risk a beating from Ty and his crew and a berating from Gwen to get closer to a woman who could have the answer to what’s been haunting me for the past two years?
Why the fuck did Carlos take the bullet for me?
But what gets me, what has adrenaline pumping through my veins, is a different question.
Can Ever lay waste to my doubts about love ever since Jules screwed me over?
There’s one way to find out.
I’ll be the fucking villain of Ever’s story.