31. Anders
Anders
A nger radiates off Mick, so thick I can feel it as he steps into my personal space, chest bumping against mine as he looks down at me. “It’s time for you to go, Brooks. Get the fuck out of my city. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”
“Now, why would I do that?” I smirk, unwilling to let him intimidate me. I’ve squashed bugs more intimidating than this washed-up old man who thinks he’s still hot shit. “My girl is here.”
“Funny, I thought your girls were back in California.”
There’s no mistaking the clear threat, and I take the last step to annihilate the last inch between us. “Are you threatening my family?”
Mick smirks. “No. Consider it a gentle warning. Leave my girls alone, and I’ll leave yours alone.”
“I don’t think you understand, so let me spell it out for you. Carmela and I are together. Your daughter hates you. Let them go. Or else you’re going to have two more women who resent the fuck out of you for everything you’ve put them through—if they don’t already. You should have tried to make it work with Kate.”
Sweat beads at his hairline, his face flushing red. “Do you really think you can make her happy? Do you think living with your mom and grandmother in a little podunk hippy town will satisfy her tastes?”
His words puncture the wrapping around the bubble that holds all my insecurities regarding Carmela. But I’ll be damned if I let him get to me. “You should give her more credit. She had a great time in California, Mick. I hate to be crass, but, baby girl worked my dick all weekend like she works the pole at the club. The salty…ocean air… did wonders for her psyche.”
I mean to be vulgar because I love reminding him that I’m fucking her. Love making him listen to me talk about it and deal with the fact that he pushed us to where we are now. Sure, we hooked up before we officially met. And there’s no doubt in my mind that we would have ended up doing it again, eventually. But Mick had a hand in pushing us together sooner.
His lip curls in disgust. “What will it take, Brooks? How much do you want?”
I frown. “What?” Surely he doesn’t mean…
“How much money do you want to break things off with her and leave?” He backs up, turning to reach into his suit jacket, pulling out a thin, navy blue checkbook. “Name your price.”
“That’s the problem with you people. You think everything can be bought with money. Well, newsflash, life doesn’t work that way. Not for the majority of people.”
“It did for her,” he informs me as he begins writing in his checkbook. His anger dissipates with every stroke of his pen against the paper. “And it will for you, too. After all, that’s why you took this job, isn’t it? To take care of your family? So, Brooks, what will it be? How much is she worth to you?”
I don’t answer him. I can’t believe he’s trying to buy her. “Why won’t you give her up? Don’t you want her to be happy? Doesn’t she deserve that?”
He sucks air through his teeth, picking up his glass to drain what’s left of the watered-down whiskey before slamming it on the bar top. “I do want her to be happy. And I know she’d be happiest with me,” he states matter-of-factly, ripping the check from the book.
“The hell she would. You don’t know shit about how to make her happy.”
“All Mellie has wanted since she found out about Kate was for me to choose her.” He saunters back toward me with an arrogant grin. “I was the first to discover that slice of Heaven between her legs, Brooks. The first, and only for years . Even when she was curious about other men, she always returned to me. Because I know her—her mind, her body. I helped her figure out what she likes and how she likes to receive pleasure. How she likes to give pleasure.” His voice ripples with satisfaction. “We’re connected in a way you’ll never understand. She belongs to me. And Maya will come around.” He folds the check and holds it out to me between his index and middle finger. “That should cover it.”
Against my better judgment, I take it, if only to see how much she’s worth to him. Because to me, she’s priceless.
His ridiculously elegant scroll spells out a number that leaves my mouth dry. Two million dollars. One for each of his girls.
Absolutely no part of me even considers taking the check, but as I begin to rip it up, an all too familiar sound rings out, turning my limbs to lead.
The unmistakable crack of a gunshot.