31. Reeve
THIRTY-ONE
reeve
All good highs must come to an end.
Especially when you find yourself in places you don’t know, with people you don’t remember, and your dick in some dude’s ass who looks like he’d kill your mother for his next line of coke.
I ended up in Chicago, spent a few nights there—I know, because the girls I was with kept mentioning it—and partied harder than I ever have in my life. My ribs and shoulders are colored in ink, one of random things I don’t remember picking or getting, but the shit’s not half bad, so I don’t spend too much time being pissed about it.
The goal as was simple as it’s always been—get so fucked up Bay Astor was a distant memory or if I got lucky, not one at all. The endgame was if I took enough Benzos, it’d give me some memory loss.
It didn’t.
I must’ve been given some slow-acting ones because I’d do whatever kind of drug I could get my hands on, just so I could reach the end zone I needed.
And my body was and is suffering from withdrawals like a motherfucker since I went cold turkey—thanks to Ozzy taking his sweet-ass time driving home—but I have to face the music either way.
I either die young or stay alive so my brothers don’t have to suffer the consequences of my bad decision-making.
The latter wasn’t one of my favorite ideas.
However, it didn’t mean I needed to go home.
Not until my motherfuckin’ back-stabbing dickhead of a brother from another mother decided to fuck around with my fun.
I might’ve been a little high on some sort of pills when he arrived, but I still remember what he did. No amount of drugs or pills was ever going to stop that from being a blinding reminder of what he took from me.
I could kill him.
Should have on the way home.
But I was in and out of consciousness because he stabbed me with a needle and told me to go to bed.
I’m not entirely sure what it was, but when I woke up, I was craving my next fix like a fiend.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
Welcome home, bitch.
Cairo is striding through the living room like a man on a mission. I’m not sure if he’s going to punch or hug me, but it doesn’t really matter.
I’m home.
He should be happy.
“Out,” I say emotionless as he continues marching like a fucking idiot in my direction.
“No shit.” His hand comes up for me to take and bro hug it out, but I don’t expect Lorenzo to be fastened to one of our stools in our kitchen when I look over his shoulder.
He slides off it casually, dressed in a navy designer suit as he adjusts his cufflinks. I watch him make his way over as the hair on my neck rises because he’s been a father figure to me since mine’s gone.
Was gone.
He’s alive… I can’t seem to wrap my fucking head around it until I see for myself.
“Reeve,” Lorenzo greets, sounding genuinely happy to see me. “It’s good to see you home, son.”
“Sir.”
I don’t know what else to say.
I know he’s disappointed in me. I’m sure there’s more he wants to say, but he won’t do it in a public setting or in front of my brothers.
He’ll hand me my ass in private.
Cairo stands beside me, as if I’m going to need it, but I don’t require his support. If Lorenzo wants to let me have it, let him. It’s not like I haven’t been tortured enough for the last several weeks.
Continuous torture, actually. Because I can still hear the softness of Bay’s voice. The alternative-metal shit she listened to when she was hella pissed or trying to concentrate. And the little moans that kept me up at night, which made me stroke my dick whenever I fucking wanted.
I might not appreciate what she did, but I do know I’m not meant for anyone else. My brain is never going to delete Bay.
It’s a cruel reality I’ll need to deal with.
My head is suddenly knocked forward by the broadside of a palm, not helping with the sheer annoyance of being back here and the massive headache pounding through my ears.
I don’t need to turn or move to know who or what it is.
“Hey, dick ,” Torin grinds out to my left. “Have fun while the rest of us were too busy getting shot at?”
I slowly crane my head over to him, annoyance pricking at my skin because I’d love nothing more than to lay him the hell out, too. I’m seeing a trend here. “Did you forget how to run?”
His light eyes tighten. “Ever run from a drive-by?”
“What?”
Torin’s face lifts before his focus flicks to Cairo. “How much does he know?”
“Ask Oz,” Cairo replies. “He just got here; I have no idea.”
Both of my brothers look behind me where I’d bet my entire life Ozzy is standing there like a fucking weirdo.
“He was sleeping,” I hear Ozzy say, and I scoff, ambling toward the kitchen for a beer or bottle of tequila to dull this whole reunion away.
“Come take a seat, Reeve,” Lorenzo cuts into my fun time, not letting me get but three steps away. “There’s a lot to discuss.”
I send him an unamused glower. “Isn’t your son the King of Wharf Bay? Why are you here prattling on with the likes of us?”
He doesn’t react to my words.
Like father, like son.
The Blacks are cool, calm, collected, calculated, and fucking cunning.
Also currently chafing on my last damn nerve.
“Was I supposed to abandon you?” I wish you would. “You all need some guidance , son. Any other questions?”
I bristle slightly at his haughty demeanor, but I don’t push him any more on it. If he wants to talk, let’s talk. It’s still not going to change my mind on anything, and the sooner I do, the sooner I can do what I want.
My brothers join me on the multiple couches in the living room, lounging this way and that, but Torin has the hardest time getting comfortable.
I didn’t know he was shot, don’t know how many times, but he looks like utter shit right now.
His skin is a bit pale, his eyes are a bit red-rimmed around the edges, and I’m half-tempted to ask him if he wants to come with me to get some pills or a line to take the edge off.
“Boys,” Lorenzo begins, standing in front of us like a leader. He is a leader. He’s just not supposed to be anymore. “I’m concerned about the events that have taken place recently. Many things have come to light, and I’m a bit shocked you’ve all been rocked so hard. I thought you were stronger than that.”
Really?
I highly doubt he had his wife rip his heart from his chest. He’s with her, so I rest my case.
“It’s been announced Bay Astor is the Queen of South Shore. And personally, that works in our favor.” I don’t see how . “Since the passing of Levi Wallace?—”
“Wait, what ?” I blurt out mindlessly, my eyes hard on Lorenzo as his come down to me. “What did you say?”
“He’s dead.”
Fuck.
Ozzy wasn’t lying.
That’s too much of a fine piece of ass to be buried six feet deep. Wallace may not have liked me; we’ve obviously had our little tiffs and shit, but I wouldn’t say I’m pleased about the news.
“How?”
“The drive-by I mentioned,” Torin chimes in. “The one where we were looking for you .”
These fucking morons.
I told them all to leave me alone. That I didn’t need them to babysit and coddle me, but I knew better. It’s why I got out of town, so why’d they do exactly what I asked them not to?
“ Who ?” I clip out, receiving a matching death stare from my brother.
“Our favorite person in the whole world…De Leon.”
That motherfucker is dead.
“Without Wallace,” Lorenzo recites, “she’s going to have more threats than she had before. And with Emilio gone?—”
I jump to my feet because has the whole world turned upside down since I’ve been gone? “What the fuck is going on here?”
I’ve never been a big player in the Forsaken Crew. Sure, I dabbled and did illegal shit. I stole drugs and guns, laundered money out of a few food trucks on the beach, but I wasn’t the go-to for decision-making. I’ve always been the calm and mellowed-out one who went with the flow and did whatever the guys wanted to do.
“Torin finally”—Lorenzo shifts his weight, and I can’t tell if he’s pissed or uncomfortable—“handled it.”
My surprise meets Torin’s nonchalance, but I’m not entirely rocked by the fact my brother finally did what he said he would always do. Emilio treated him like shit. There’s never been even one time, that I remember, when he gave Torin any praise or love.
“Ramsey will never let her have The Landing’s seat, and I don’t want her to try,” Cairo chimes in. “He’ll call her out.”
“I agree,” Oz mutters, and the sound of his voice makes me want to jump him all over again.
“He’s next on the list,” Torin says matter-of-factly. “He has to be. He’s never going to play nice?—”
“One step at a time,” Lorenzo decrees with a raise of his hand. “First, I need you all to align and make sure you are all on the same page with her.”
“The Nameless will barely let us through,” Cairo claims before I can tell Lorenzo he can count me out. “They’re more protective of her than they were of Wallace.”
“She’s a woman,” his father replies. “And she’s new. I also highly doubt she wanted it either. Which makes this even harder.”
“Ramsey has to go,” Cairo says. “Torin can sit on the seat all he wants, but she’s the heir. He doesn’t need to call Torin out. Ramsey can just kill him.”
“Then she’ll need to give it to him,” Lorenzo replies. “Because she is the only one who has any right to it.”
“Torin can call him out to distract him,” Cairo professes. “Make it look like two brothers fighting over it.”
“Bay isn’t going to give it up,” Torin cuts in, earning both Blacks’ attention. “She’s going to do it for South Shore. For him . She’ll want to merge both towns together. It’s what her father always wanted. What she always wanted. Ramsey calls her out…she’ll take the fight.”
Cairo rises from the couch. “He will pick the most fucked-up way to gain it. If we can’t do shit about it, then he doesn’t see her. He doesn’t get to her.”
Torin looks up at him. “And is your plan to keep her locked up, brother? Because that girl will run you into the ground.”
“She only has three shots,” Cairo grinds out. “To get a fair chance. And he gets the last option.”
Three shots.
Three opportunities.
When someone is called out for the Titan seat, you’re automatically fucked. The person calling you out gets the first option of how you fight for it. If it sucks, you deny it, then get to pick the next method. They will, of course, shoot that down and pick the shittiest way to obtain the spot.
Ramsey will make it nearly impossible for her to get it.
“Then you need to get to him before he does Bay Astor,” Lorenzo states. “Roger would never want her to go up in a Titan fight. He never wanted her to be part of this world. I’m trying to do my best to keep with his wishes now that he’s gone.”
Silence falls throughout the space, and I take a seat back on the couch. Everything has gone to hell in a handbasket, and I’m not looking to have a picnic.
But this is our life.
These are my brothers.
And we always planned to stop this bullshit war.
However, Ramsey stands in the way of it.
“She’s pregnant,” Cairo spouts, straightening his spine as his father gapes at him. “She’s thinking about?—”
“She won’t ,” Torin cuts in. “Don’t even say it, Black.”
Cairo sends him a withering glower. “I’m not arguing with you about this again. She’ll do what she wants.”
“And sometimes she doesn’t know what’s good for her.”
“You think her having a child she’s more than likely not ready for is the best move? She already has two sisters and a fucking kingdom under her belt?—”
“With a bunch of fuckheads who you said are super protective over her. She’s terrified. Add in silly-ass Wallace deciding to up and die, and now, she’s lost. Ridding herself of that child isn’t going to make it better.”
“And if she wants to name it Levi ?” Cairo grinds out. “You good with that? Because I could see it happening. Especially since you’re in the running as being the baby daddy.”
Torin’s jaw tics, but he doesn’t back down an inch. “Whatever the fuck she wants.”
Huh.
That’s cool.
I’m still out, though.
“She’s said this to you?” Lorenzo chimes in. “She wants to abort the child?”
Cairo bows his head and nods. “Not officially. Torin’s right, she’s afraid. Too much shit has happened, and she’s reacting instead of thinking.”
“Who’s the father?” He ping-pongs his focus around all of us, even Ozzy—which is almost laughable—but none of us answer. “So, it’s like that.”
“It’s like that,” Torin confirms. “She’s all of ours.”
“She’s married to Ozzy.”
My whole body tenses that someone else said those words instead of me thinking it.
“So?”
Cairo’s father sighs. “You’re all lucky Roger isn’t around, or he’d kill you all.” He looks over at Ozzy. “Any word on the fifth seat?” He shakes his head. “Continue your search.” His attention descends on me. “And go see your father. Then you’re checking yourself into a rehab facility.”
I don’t bother to put any steel in my tone when I respond with, “I’m not going into a rehab facility.”
“Wanna bet?” Cairo challenges, stepping up a bit to, I don’t know, intimidate me. “We can’t be worrying about you and everything else that’s been mentioned.”
I lift my shoulders. “Then let me leave. I didn’t want to come here in the first place.”
“Don’t be a whiny bitch,” Torin professes smoothly, glancing down at his watch. “You’re embarrassing with it.”
“Says the bitch who almost drowned her.” Then I sign with my fingers like an asshole, “ Looks like Karma took out the wrong guy .”
Torin smirks at me, clearly not giving a shit. “Oops.”
Lorenzo sighs heavily, clearly exasperated with us acting like petulant children. “Are you boys going to be able to handle this, or do I need to?—”
“We got it,” Cairo puts forth, but he doesn’t sound too confident about it. “Torin will do his thing, Reeve will either go to rehab, or we’ll lock him in his room, and Ozzy will keep searching for the fifth seat.”
“And you?” I inquire mockingly. “What will you be doing?”
His nearly black eyes flick over to me. “Securing an alliance with the new Queen of South Shore.”
“Wonderful,” I deadpan, rubbing my fingers together because my skin is beginning to fucking itch.
Maybe I do need rehab.
But sitting here and talking about it, about why and how with a bunch of strangers, while being monitored? I’m good.
I’ve gotten fucked up before.
I chose to keep doing it.
I’ll get over it, eventually. I just need to find something or someone else to occupy my time.
Like Dad.
“Where’s my father?”
Lorenzo fishes his cell phone out of his suit pocket. “At my house. I’ll drive you.”
Great.
As much as I’ve always wished for this moment, I can’t say I’m bouncing on my feet for it.
From the details Ozzy told me, it’s not going to be good.
In fact, it’s going to be shit.
Like everything else.
I need a line.
“I’m still going to pass,” I deadpan, standing to my feet. “If anyone bugs the fuck out of me tonight, I’ll be sniffing cleaning products to get high. Leave me the fuck alone.”