Chapter Twenty-Four
Pacino
“Why the fuck is this taking so long?” Capone asks.
Rolling my shoulders, I sigh. I only planned to be here for a few hours. I didn’t expect to have to do three hours of updates because no one else did it when they were checking the system.
“Because everyone else is incompetent,” I mutter.
“I guess we should actually do the updates when they pop up, huh?”
I glare at him before glancing at the clock. “How the fuck is it eight already?”
“Oh fuck.”
The bakery’s closed. Is Phoebe still there? Is she waiting for me? I should call, but she doesn’t have a new phone yet. But I could call the store.
“How’s Phoebe doing?”
“She’s okay,” I say, reaching for my phone.
“I didn’t mean to freak her out like that,” he says, running a hand over his face. “I felt so terrible.”
Setting my phone down, I rest my hand on his shoulder. “It was bigger than just killing Joseph. She’s got demons as dark as we do.”
“That must be why you fit so well together.”
The comment takes me by surprise. “Really? You don’t think we’re too different?”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “Are you kidding? On the outside, sure, you look like opposites, but I’ve seen something dark in her. Something only guys like us can see. But unlike us, she chooses happiness and sunshine instead of gloom.”
It’s true. She definitely chooses happiness where we embrace the evil.
The last of my father’s employees uploads into the system—a task that should not have taken this long thanks to the hours of updates needed—and I shake my head. “I need to get to her. She’s probably wondering why I haven’t made good on the promise I made earlier today.”
“She’s good for you, man. You actually smile now. Without murder being on the table, anyway.”
It’s true. I smile more now. I smile a lot, actually. More than I think I ever have. And it’s all thanks to my Yellow Crayon.”
“Gives me hope that Kannon and I aren’t completely fucked. Probably, but there’s still a chance there’s someone out there for us, too.”
Capone’s issues stem from his childhood, and I don’t blame him for being as cynical as he is. Or why he chose to distance himself from his family like he has. He was used as a pawn, and it fucked him up pretty badly.
Kannon Reed, though, had it all once. He wasn’t like us, but then his wife and daughter died. The spiral of something like that happening is enough to kill a man, but he almost had another chance.
Paris was the only woman he’d ever gotten relatively serious with, but then his demons took over. The drinking almost killed him, and he drove her away.
She put up with more than most women would have. Unlike some of the other women who left our men behind, not a single one of us blames her for taking off.
“Finally done,” I say as the program finishes. “If any of these assholes show up here, we’ll know. And we’ll fucking kill them.”
Now, I can go and eat my dessert like I planned.
Both of us snap our heads to the door as pounding echoes in the relatively small room. Capone goes to open the door and gasps.
“Phoebe? What are you doing here?”
I’m out of the seat and at the door in a second. “Phoebe?”
“I had to do it,” she says, her face pale. “I had to stab him.”
“Well, that explains the knife in her hand,” Capone says. “Where’d you stab someone, sweetheart? Where is he?”
She points a shaking finger down the hallway, and we run in that direction. Why Phoebe’s here, let alone with a knife, is a question for later.
“In here,” Queenie calls.
Both of us stop short as she stands with a gun pointed at a man bleeding profusely on the ground. A man I recognize.
“Fuck, that bitch stabbed me!” he shouts. “He told me to come and get off before killing the head bitch, but I didn’t bargain for getting fucking stabbed!”
“Who the fuck is this?” Capone asks.
My stomach sinks. “Who told you to do this?” I growl.
If this was my brother, he’s working with the fucking Venom. And it’s more than just personal at that point.
“Butch! It was my reward for doing great work, and he wants to fucking piss you off. Goddamn it, I’m bleeding out, here. You gotta get me to a hospital!”
It’s not much better, but at least it’s not my brother. My family didn’t do this.
“What work are you doing for Butch?” Capone asks, taking the gun from Queenie. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I got this.”
She hands him the gun, but the man stops talking. In fact, he might actually be dying.
“He makes Venom Dust,” Phoebe says, her voice quiet from the doorway. “Jake works in the desert. The snake dens or whatever.”
“Pits,” the three of us correct her.
Capone turns to my girl. “You know him?”
“I used to date him,” she says before bursting out into laughter. “I really know how to pick ’em, don’t I?”
The laugher turns maniacal, and Capone shoots me a glance. She’s about to lose it.
“Baby, let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?” I say.
“He didn’t do drugs when I dated him. But he was going to force Queenie to… And then he said he was going to kill her. I… I had to. I… I had to,” she whispers.
“I know,” I say, leading her out of the room and into the restroom. “I know, baby. Let’s get the blood off you.”
Swallowing, she nods. “Okay.”
“Baby, what are you doing here?”
“You didn’t come to the bakery,” she says, scrubbing her hand so hard I worry she’ll take off the skin. “And I wanted to meet the woman who came before me.”
I reach out and stop her before she hurts herself. “You wanted to check out Queenie?”
“I wanted to know… But now… I don’t know if it was a smart idea or not.”
“You saved her life,” I say. “Baby, you have nothing to be jealous about.”
Turning to face me, she gazes into my eyes. “Tucker, she and I are nothing alike. Like, at all. She has curves and… sex appeal. A lot of curves. And I don’t.”
I cup her face and massage her cheeks with my thumbs. “You’re sexy in a way I can’t describe because it’s so unique to you. Sweet and sensual at the same time.”
“But what if you get tired of me? I needed to know who you used to be with, and now I think you might actually get bored because she’s… hot.”
“You’re so hot it hurts,” I say. “Gorgeous. My Yellow Crayon. You have nothing to worry about, Phoebe. You’re the only woman I’ve even thought about having a future with, let alone actively trying to build one with since Jo. I’m not going anywhere.”
Swallowing, she fights back tears. “Okay, good, because I think I might’ve actually just killed my ex-boyfriend to save Queenie, and you would be the biggest jerk in the world if you cheated with her after that.”
I snort and kiss her. “I would, yes. And it’s never gonna happen.” Becoming serious, I stare into her eyes. “Are you okay? It’s not easy doing something like that.”
Phoebe licks her lips and lets out a shaky breath. “He was going to kill her. There was no other choice. And I don’t know what he would have planned to do to me.”
That’s true. He would have likely hurt Phoebe the same way he did Queenie and killed her, too. “I’m glad you chose you and her over him.”
“You wanna hear something weird?”
Chuckling, I nod. “Sure.”
“I know what just happened will probably hit me later, but all I can think about is that hole in the massage table for men’s junk.”
I pull her against me and laugh. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it. Or paid attention.”
“Like, do the women sit underneath or something? Or bend down and milk him like a cow? How does it work?” she asks, laughing.
“We’ll have to ask Queenie. I don’t know, baby. But now I’m curious.”
I lead her out of the bathroom and into the room. Jake’s gone, and Capone walks in after us with a mop bucket while Queenie leans against the wall, her hand shaking.
“Phoebe, I owe you,” Queenie says, and it’s strange seeing her shaken.
It’s not the first time she’s been attacked, but something about this must’ve triggered something. Queenie’s normally a fighter.
“Seriously, Sunshine, anything. You need money? You got it. An ear to listen to? Done. Kidney, let’s fucking do it.”
“I need to know something,” Phoebe says, pulling away from me and walking toward the table. “What exactly do you do with this hole?”
I burst out laughing, and Capone even cracks a smile as he stops mopping up the blood to look at us. Queenie frowns. “What?”
“I can’t stop thinking about it. I know it’s for the guy’s stuff, but like… what do you do as the girl? Are you underneath?”
“She asked me in the restroom if you…” I have to stop because I’m laughing too hard. “If you… basically milk them like a cow.”
Even Capone can’t hold back, and he laughs as Queenie giggles. “It depends on the guy,” she says, suppressing the laughter.
“I can’t stop imagining you sitting on a stool just…” Phoebe moves her hands to mimic pulling on udders. “You know? And that just doesn’t seem… fun. But what do I know, right?”
Queenie pulls her into her arms and hugs her. “Pacino, you better take care of this one. I fucking love her.”
Yeah? Me, too, Queenie. Me, too.
Damn feelings just snuck up on me one day, and now they won’t go away.