8. Brian
8
brIAN
A cool March breeze kicked up a soda can that was lying on the ground near the city’s trash bin outside Deek’s Bar and Grill, where I was chatting with my daughter over the phone.
“Dad, are you still coming to the banquet next week?” Fran asked with a hint of sadness in her tone.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” The world could be on fire, and I would break down walls to make sure I was there for her. “Are you ready?”
She and a handful of other students from Oakwood Academy would be presenting their science projects to a prominent energy company in the US. Fran’s project was on fuel cell technology. The night following her presentation, the winner of a scholarship—a full ride to a university of choice—would be announced at a special banquet.
She clucked her tongue. “Almost. My project is done, but I have to write up a summary on the microbial fuel cells for renewable energy.”
I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt. “Are you sure you’re related to me?” I teased.
“Daaad.” She giggled, a sound I could listen to forever. “You know we have the same blond hair and green eyes. I look just like you.”
“You have your mom’s nose, though.”
Shayla had been a pretty brunette, and it gutted me when she died. Fran needed her mom now more than ever, since she was in her teenage years and was dealing with womanly topics. I sure as hell wasn’t the expert. Luckily, Grace had been there for her.
Silence filtered through the line.
“I know you miss her,” I said softly.
“I wish she was here,” Fran breathed through the phone. “Dad, I have to be up early, and I need to finish my math homework.”
I glanced at my watch. Duke should be here soon. We’d agreed to meet at nine for a drink.
“Before we hang up, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Is everything okay? Did you not find an apartment in Boston?”
“I’m fine, sweetie. And I secured an apartment earlier today that you’ll love.”
“Please tell me you’re not in trouble with the law. You promised you wouldn’t go back to that type of business.” Her disappointment pierced my damn heart.
It pained me that I’d had to explain to my innocent daughter, who was shielded from my dangerous lifestyle since the day she was born, that I’d worked for the cartel. It was difficult not to tell her my truths when she’d asked a zillion questions as to why Duke had gone to prison.
“Hunter Thompson, a bodyguard I hired, will be watching over you, only if you leave school grounds.”
She huffed. “Dad, you know how I feel about those types of men. But the bigger issue is why?”
She disliked bodyguards because they brought too much attention to her at school. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin her image. But her safety was number one.
“I have a former associate who I don’t like, nor do I trust. Hunter is only there as a precaution. I don’t expect anything to happen. It’s just my paranoia.”
“Fine,” she said harshly. “I don’t want to argue, and I get it. I don’t plan on leaving school grounds before you get here anyway. I have too much to do.”
A sense of relief washed over me that she wasn’t leaving school grounds anytime soon. “I’ll see you next week. Love you, sweetie.”
“Dad, I worry about you. Please be careful. And I love you too.”
After I pocketed my phone, I wanted to punch the cement wall behind me. The last thing Fran should be doing was worrying about me.
What a fucking day? The call with Arturo. Sabine bugging me several times through text messages. Then Grace. Motherfucker . I couldn’t shake the discussion I’d had with her at the gym. I was over the moon that she had all but admitted she was into me. That only made it more difficult to keep my attention on other things and my hands to myself.
Regardless, our feelings for one another weren’t the immediate issue. Although, if either of us acted on those feelings, I could be looking down the barrel of a gun, if Duke had any say in the matter.
I made my way into the restaurant and over to the bar. I might as well have a drink while I waited for Duke.
The bartender, Matt, a former employee at the club Duke had owned, came over and placed a napkin in front me. “I heard you were in town.” He wiped his hands on a towel draped over his shoulder.
I chuckled. “Does Duke come in here that often?”
“He comes in about twice a week before he heads home,” Matt said. “I think he misses me.”
The dude with dirty-blond locks pulled into a man bun had been Duke’s best bartender, bringing in the most tips and money. He was one of those suave bartenders who knew how to spin liquor bottles and put on shows for customers, particularly women.
“I’m sure Duke misses a lot about his club.” I knew Duke had loved that place. “Can I get a double shot of bourbon?”
“Are you still drinking Buffalo Trace?” he asked.
“If you have it,” I replied.
“Sure do.” He grabbed the high-end bourbon from the shelf along with two glasses and set them down as Duke slid onto the barstool next to me.
“Sorry, Emma wouldn’t let me leave,” Duke said.
His smile said it all. Emma Hart, the apple of her daddy’s eyes, was going to give Duke more of a run for his money than his sister, Grace.
“No need to apologize. Family comes first.” I took a swig of bourbon that Matt had been pouring while Duke got settled.
I knew the feeling well. I’d never expected Fran, but man, she was the best thing that ever happened to me. An overwhelming sense of love washed over me the moment I laid eyes on her at birth. The need to protect her, love her, and die for her had consumed me to the point where I almost couldn’t breathe.
Matt slid a drink to Duke then sped off to help a waitress at the other end of the bar.
Then Duke and I dropped into an easy conversation about kids. I told him about Fran’s science project, her interest in going to Harvard, and my new apartment. Then he gushed about how fast Emma was growing up.
We toasted to the kids as voices droned on in the background, with customers chatting and laughing.
“I hate to be mushy, but I miss drinking at the bar or in your office at your former nightclub,” I said.
He toyed with a napkin. “I do miss that, too, but not the criminal part. Speaking of which, talk to me about Jeremy Pitt. After you landed yesterday, why did you rush over to his office? Are you working for him in an illegal capacity? Or as a bodyguard?”
I chuckled. “Neither, though he would be a better boss than Rosario.”
Duke smirked. “For sure. The man knows the mob business better than anyone I know.”
“I hired a bodyguard for Fran. Jeremy’s team is the best in the industry, as you know.”
His gaze hardened with concern. “Why? Did a former enemy threaten you? You’re not dealing drugs again?”
I sipped my drink. “Remember Arturo Rodriguez?”
Duke snarled. “Fucker.”
“He paid me a visit in Nashville. Said I should work for him. Of course, I declined. But then he called me again this morning. He’s having issues with the gangs in Boston. So he wants my help.”
Duke rubbed his temples. “Stay away, man. The Feds are all over him, which is why the gangs are probably lying low.”
“Good to know. But don’t worry. I told him no.”
“Arturo was always shady as fuck,” Duke said. “But he also doesn’t take no for an answer.”
I raised my glass. “Don’t I know it. But he has enforcers to do his dirty work.”
Duke ran a hand through his brown hair. “Not if they’re the ones causing the strife between the gangs and Arturo. His enforcers are as shady as he is.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”
“Word on the street is one or two of his enforcers have fucked over a couple of gangs. I have my ear to the ground. Just because we’re out doesn’t mean the danger is gone. I like to be prepared in case one of our past associates decides to fuck with us for some reason or other.”
“Which is why I hired a bodyguard for Fran,” I added. “Enough about Arturo. Talk to me about Grace. What exactly happened? She’s not herself.”
The Grace I knew wouldn’t be so bold as to tell me she liked me—and not in a friendship sort of way—or to ask me to dinner. Sure, she’d also mentioned she wanted my help, but I knew the signs that someone was flirting with me.
“I know she’s not. Fallyn says the same thing.” He scratched his chin then told me exactly what had led Grace to shoot the frat boy. “But I know Grace. She’s spooked over something other than the shooting. I hired a bodyguard for her. She already bit off my head in a text for hiring one. Am I wrong?”
I shrugged. “I know you’ve tortured yourself with guilt over what happened to her in sex trafficking, but talk to her. Fran doesn’t like bodyguards, either, but I let her know what I was doing and why.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I tried talking to her at the police station, but she broke down, and it gutted me. Whatever is going on with her is scaring her. Not only that, she could be going to jail. She shouldn’t have shot the college kid.”
I almost spat out my drink. “You know very well that you would’ve torn that boy to pieces. If she wanted to kill the frat boy, she would’ve.”
“You’re starting to sound like Grace.” He emptied his glass. “Matt, another.”
“Do you think that she’s in danger?”
“Yes,” he said without reservation.
Motherfucker.
Grace had lied to me.
“Is this a hunch or do you know for a fact?”
Duke’s hunches were always spot-on. “A little of both. She brought up Miguel Rivera to Ted. Asked if he was out of prison. She’s afraid of something or someone.”
I angled my head. “Miguel is still in prison, right?”
“Yes.” He glanced up at the TV.
Breaking news scrolled at the bottom of the screen. Another young girl found dead in South Boston.
“Grace was mumbling to Ted that she couldn’t save her. That it was Grace’s fault she died.” A muscle jumped in his jaw.
I pointed at the TV. “Do you think Grace was referring to the string of young girls around the city showing up dead? That she’s somehow responsible?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Not sure. You know she likes to save them from their pimps and bring them to the shelter.”
Duke wouldn’t survive if anything happened to his sister. None of the brothers would. Hell, I wouldn’t either. Grace wasn’t only my best friend’s sister. She was more to me than that.
“I promised you long ago that I would watch out for Grace if need be. What can I do?”
He studied me for a long minute, giving me the sense he was about to drop a bomb in my lap. “I’m curious about your conversation with Grace earlier today while I was on the phone with Kelton.”
I looked at him like he’d lost his mind, even though the piranhas in my stomach woke up. “What about it?”
Duke’s perceptiveness had served him well in the cartel business. I even counted on him when we met with our enemies and associates.
“From my view, it looked like you two were flirting. Something I haven’t seen between you two ever.”
You and me both. That guilt I had over what I felt for Grace was riding me like a wild bucking bronco. “You really think I would touch your sister?”
In the blink of an eye, the tension between us skyrocketed.
“I don’t have to remind you that Grace is off-limits.” He whipped out that statement and threat like a seasoned lion trainer. “She’s fragile, man.”
I felt like I was in an alternate universe, looking at a man I didn’t know all of a sudden. “Is she off-limits because she’s fragile?” I knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it.
He growled. “Don’t fuck with me, Brian. I’m in no mood.”
I narrowed my eyes at the person I considered a brother. Duke and I had mostly had arguments about business, hardly ever about his family.
I pulled out my wallet. “Your sister is thirty years old and a grown woman. Not to mention, if she can endure four years in sex trafficking and escape, she’s tougher than you give her credit for. And if she wants to flirt, there’s no harm in that. But you know what? I’m not in the mood either. Why don’t we call it a night, so you can rethink what you’re accusing me of?” I placed two twenties on the counter and glared at him. “Also, I won’t deny that your sister is fucking gorgeous and any man would be lucky to have her. But I promised you at nineteen that I would never touch her. And if you saw flirting, it was nothing more than me telling her how pretty she is. No crime in that, man.” I was about to stand.
He swung out his arm. “Wait. I’m sorry. I trust you. I know you adore Grace. I’m on that thin edge of strangling her. In one breath, I want to, but in the next I want to do everything I can to keep her from being her own worst enemy.”
“I get it. I would be acting the same way with Fran.” I gripped his shoulder. “It pains me to think Grace could be in danger, hence why I’m offering my help. Nothing more.”
Any further conversation about Grace died when we both heard her call Duke’s name. Grace stomped toward us, seething.
I didn’t know rage could look so damn sexy on someone. But she wore it like steel armor, as if she were about to go into battle.
“We need to talk,” she bit out to Duke. “Now. Outside.”
Duke swiveled on the barstool, anger oozing off him. “Not tonight, Grace. Go home. We’ll talk in the morning.”
She stuck her hands on her hips. “Don’t dismiss me like I’m eight. Do you want me to make a scene?”
Duke growled as his phone lit up with Fallyn’s name. He answered immediately, leaving a steaming Grace standing there with tears in her eyes.
I felt the need to console her, to wrap my arms around her and tell her I got her, that she could count on me. She seemed like she thought the world was against her and no one would listen or help her.
I climbed off the barstool. “Come on, baby girl. You need some air, and so do I.”
I’d been in Boston for merely a day, and the shit was piling up like ten feet of snow.
Once she and I were outside, she let out a strangled groan. “I hate him.”
A beefy dude with bulky arms and a military haircut pushed off from where he was standing against a building and started for Grace.
I guided her behind me until I realized it was one of Jeremy’s top bodyguards. “Knox, how the hell are you?”
He and I shook hands.
“Better if I had a client who was cooperative.” He regarded Grace as she stepped around me.
“I told you to go home,” she said in a terse tone to Knox.
I tipped my head toward the restaurant. “Dude, go inside and have a drink. Duke is at the bar. I’ll watch her for the moment.”
Grace let out an evil laugh. “I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself.”
The minute Knox was inside, I pulled Grace to me. “I know you can handle yourself, but you need a friend right now.” And I needed a lobotomy if I thought I could be her friend when I wanted to be so much more.
She clung to me as if I were her lifeline.
“I got you, baby girl.” I held her tightly, and I wasn’t sure if she was shaking or if I was.
But suddenly, in that moment, everything felt right in the world.
Yep, I was a liar, a horrible friend, and screwed beyond recognition.