CHAPTER 19
THEN
NICKY – Age 21
I sit in the dimly lit private room that’s been reserved for us in the high-end gentlemen’s club in the heart of Manhattan. Rico and Tommy sit beside me on either side as the proposed terms of our new distribution contract are laid out for us by our new prospective partners.
This is huge for us. While the Dukes operation is impressive, especially when you consider it’s run by four guys in their early twenties, this new contract is set to align us as a major player in the tristate area drug trade.
When I originally made the proposition to Rico and JP four years ago, we had every intention of simply trying to instill some form of order to the city’s rapidly growing drug problem. Since then, OD rates have decreased by over 92 percent—a statistic I’d like to think we play a key role in. Well, us and that shithead Bishop, though I’d never publicly credit the douche.
Either way, you can’t argue with figures and facts. And at the end of the day, Queen City and the surrounding territories are safer places to live since we took power. Which is precisely why when it came time for me and the boys to re-evaluate our standing in this business, we decided on expansion rather than retirement. What if we called it quits and Bishop couldn’t hold the line without us? The boys agreed it wasn’t worth the risk.
And I am so fucking thankful they saw it that way because, honestly, I have ulterior motives with this shit. There were a lot of things I thought this life would bring me.
Headaches? Occasionally.
Danger? Obviously.
Money? A fuck ton.
But in the midst of all that, I found something else. Something… more. In the midst of the darkness, I was given the freedom to flourish. I know that sounds ridiculous coming from the privileged professional athlete with a genius IQ, but prior to this, my success was always measured by the standards of what was deemed noteworthy by the world around me. I’d spent my life altering every aspect of my personality so I could better “fit in.”
And what did it earn me?
Fame, fortune, and one hell of a fucking anxiety disorder.
And yet, since the day I slipped into this role, I haven’t had a single panic attack. Even in the wake of my sister’s assault, there were some close calls, but it never got to that point.
Why?
Because the life I now lead grants me damn near complete control of everything around me.
My business.
My men.
My rules.
You make a fucking move in my city? You better have my approval to do so. And should you break one of my laws? I decide your fate. My world comes with order and stability. My world makes sense. And after experiencing such a thing, there’s just no way I could ever go back to the shitshow I was barely treading water in beforehand.
My phone lights up on the table in front of me, drawing my gaze to JP’s name on the screen. I left him behind so he could keep watch over J and Daph at the senior bonfire tonight, and he’s been sending steady mundane updates throughout the night.
However, the first line of the text previews across my screen, and I barely make it through the fourth word before I’m snatching the device off the table and excusing myself from the discussion.
“I apologize. I have to take this.”
Rico gapes at me as I push back in my chair, muttering additional apologies before trailing me from the room. He hisses my name several times, though I barely register his presence as my tightening grip threatens to crack my cell.
JP: DAPH GAVE SOME GUY A LAP DANCE. I’M CALLING IT. WE’RE HEADING HOME.
ME: EXPLAIN. NOW.
JP: IT’S DAPH. NOBODY TELLS HER WHAT TO DO.
ME: YOU DO, JP! HENCE, BABYSITTING DUTY!!!
JP: DON’T TEXT SHOUT AT ME. I’LL TELL YA WHERE TO SHOVE THEM EXCLAMATION POINTS.
ME: DO YOUR FUCKING JOB AND I WON’T HAVE TO YELL AT YOU.
JP: DAMN, brO. YOU KNOW WHAT? I’LL TEXT YOU WHEN THE GIRLS ARE HOME SAFE. BEYOND THAT, THIS CONVO IS OVER. DAPH’S RIGHT. YOU GOT A PROBLEM? YOU CAN COME DOWN HERE AND HANDLE IT YOURSELF.
ME: YOU ARE NOT TO LEAVE JONES UNPROTECTED IN THE HOUSE.
JP: FUCKING OBVIOUSLY.
JP: PS. I ONLY ANSWERED THAT BECAUSE IT PERTAINED TO J. NOT BECAUSE YOU THINK I ANSWER TO YOU.
“Nick!” Rico shoves my shoulder from behind, causing me to almost drop my phone.
“What?!” I snarl.
His brows arch with surprise before furrowing in anger. “What the fuck is the matter with you? These are not men you leave waiting.”
“They’ll wait as long as I need them to. I’m talking to JP.”
Rico’s hard exterior falters, instantly morphing into genuine concern. “Are the girls okay? Where’s J?” He snatches the phone, quickly skimming the messages.
“Yo!” I bite out, retrieving my cell from his grasp. “What is it with everyone forgetting their place today?”
“Are you kidding me?!” His hands thrust forward, connecting square in my chest and sending me stumbling backward. “I’m gonna need you to tell me when the fuck you started dipping into the supply, because I know there ain’t no motherfucking way you just spewed that shit at me sober.”
“I’m in charge!” I rush forward, bringing us nose to nose.
He doesn’t even flinch. “And I am your best friend. Me, JP, Tommy. We are your brothers. Which means you may be top dog, Nick, but your bark don’t work on us.”
The blood-red haze previously clouding my vision starts to subside, though my chest continues to heave. Sensing he’s making progress, he continues. “We all know how Daph can be. Girl’s a firecracker. I bet JP had to drag her kicking and screaming to the car. But he’s got her. She’s safe. He’s taking her home.”
“He treats everything like a joke.”
“That jokester took a bullet for you once. Say what you want, but the boy shows the fuck up when it counts. You know that. You would’ve never left him alone with Jonsie if you didn’t trust him entirely.”
My mind flashes back to the night he got shot. How we were raiding a rival’s compound, and my dumb ass didn’t clear one of the closets in a room before passing through. JP dove right in front of me without a moment’s hesitation. Had that bullet been three inches to the right, he wouldn’t even be here to mouth off to me in the first place.
Rico’s right.
Fuck. I owe him an apology.
JP: DAPH’S HOME.
JP: DICK.
ME: THANK YOU, MAN. I’M SORRY.
JP: OH, SURE. WAIT TIL I CALL YOU A NAME BEFORE YOU APOLOGIZE SO I FEEL LIKE SHIT.
ME: I DESERVE IT.
JP: SAY JP’S MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD.
ME: YOU ALREADY GOT AN APOLOGY.
JP: JP’S BEST FRIEND SAYS WHAT.
ME: WHAT?
JP: HEY, BESTIE.
ME: GODDAMN IT.
Shaking my head, I swipe out of the text thread with JP and over to Daph’s. This girl is going to be the fucking death of me. What the hell was she thinking? Since when is she picking up guys on nights out with J? Why is she picking up guys at all?
My mind conjures images of her body grinding against some faceless fuckboy, and it’s several seconds before the tremors in my hands subside to the point where I can begin typing. This last year it’s as though she’s been hell bent on driving me insane. Maybe I’m just being hypersensitive, but lately everything she does puts me on edge.
That pouty mouth with her smartass comments, goading me every time we share a space. Prancing around in those obscene little sleep shorts when she stays over. Licking my fucking face the other day when she was at the house after I reprimanded her. Perhaps she’s been running around unchecked for too long and needs a reminder of who’s in charge.
ME: WHAT PART OF ‘BEHAVE’ DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?
DEMON: SORRY, IT’S PAST THIS TEENY BOPPER’S BEDTIME. NO TEXTING ALLOWED.
Ah, so that’s what this is about. A couple of days ago Daph stopped by the house to drop something off to Ma. Two of my guys were there grabbing keys to the warehouse and they were all too eager to make her acquaintance. Those god forsaken yoga shorts didn’t help. Seriously, one of them had to basically pick his jaw up off the floor when she walked in. He practically tripped over his tongue trying to introduce himself.
I shut that shit down immediately. There is no way I’d allow one of my dealers anywhere near Daph. So, when he inquired as to what she was doing later, I was quick to step in, asking why he was seeking out the company of my baby’s sister’s teeny bopper friends when he could pursue one of the endless supply of real woman eager to claim a Duke.
I shouldn’t be surprised she’s still raw over that comment. It was a fucked-up thing to say. But I needed him away from her. Because every second he flirted with her was another second closer to me shooting him in my parents’ kitchen.
“Nick.” Rico’s voice snaps at me once more. “We’re on the fucking clock here.”
Holding up a finger, I thumb out a reply with my other hand.
ME: IS THERE A REASON YOU WERE SO INCLINED TO RUB AGAINST SOMEONE?
DEMON: IT WAS A DARE. NOT A BIG DEAL.
ME: LETTING SOME ASSHOLE FEEL YOU UP ISN’T A BIG DEAL?
DEMON: UNFORTUNATELY, THAT PARTICULAR ASSHOLE ALREADY KNOWS WHAT I FEEL LIKE SO THAT’S A MOOT POINT.
There it is. That fucking smartass mouth. She’s done.
“Get Tommy. We’re leaving.”
I tuck the phone back into the inside pocket of my red leather jacket, heading back toward the private room while my mind maps out where on my property would be the best place to bury the fucker who touched her.
“Nick!” He grips hold of my arm, and I turn to be met with his disapproving stare. “The meeting you’re about to blow off took months to arrange. We run the risk of never getting this opportunity again. The girls are home safe. What is so important it can’t possibly wait until tomorrow?”
“Studies have shown delayed reprimands are significantly less effective in preventing reoccurring behavior.”
He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “English, Nick!”
“It means I’m going to put her over my knee and spank the fucking brat out of her! And if I wait until tomorrow, the lesson may not stick.”