No Fooling Around: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy

by Hunter, Talia

  I twisted my hands in front of me. My stomach was churning so hard, if I’d drunk a glass of milk it would have turned into butter.

  “Robby was just nineteen. He should have had his whole life…” A sob escaped and the woman stopped for a moment, visibly swallowing as silent tears ran down her cheeks. “That monster gave Robby a bag to carry that was filled with drugs. My Robby was a good boy. He was an angel, and now I have to go on without him, when all I want to do is—” She broke off, putting a shaky hand over her eyes. After several long seconds, she sat back down, cradling her face as sobs wracked her body.

  Santino watched her, but his expression looked bored. He was slouched sideways in his chair, the side of his face resting against one hand. From where I sat I could see he was softly kicking the toe of his shoe against the table leg. If he felt pity for the woman, he didn’t show any sign.

  I squeezed my fingers together, wishing I could speak to my brother, to ask if it could possibly be true. Surely there had to be some explanation. He’d told me he was framed. That he was innocent. So the woman had to be mistaken, didn’t she?

  A pretty young woman stood up. She had her hair tied back and was wearing a smart formal suit, although she didn’t look older than twenty. She also had a piece of paper to read from, and though she sounded nervous, her voice was clear.

  “I was with my best friend Cara when we met Santino Martin at a party he was throwing. I heard him ask Cara if she wanted to have some real fun, and Cara said yes. She’d never tried any drugs before, and had a bad reaction to whatever it was he gave her. When I took her home, I didn’t know what to do. She was babbling, and not making any sense. It was like she thought I was trying to kill her.” She stopped to swallow, then cleared her throat. “Cara was hospitalized with psychosis, and a year later, she’s still suffering from the damage the drugs did to her brain. She couldn’t come today because bright lights give her migraines, but I promised I’d speak for her, to describe how Santino Martin ruined the life of my best friend.”

  Cold doubt crept through me as she spoke. My brother was still sitting slumped, showing nothing. But that woman had met him, and heard him offer her friend drugs. Whatever else had happened, it was hard to believe Santino was innocent of that. And if he could give a twenty-year-old woman the drugs that had sent her to the hospital, what else was he capable of?

  Did I even know my brother at all?

  More people stood to read out victim statements, and my ears rang with them. As their stories grew ever more terrible and damning, my breaths grew more painful, as though something heavy was crushing my chest. The only way I could bear it was by digging my fingernails into the soft flesh of my palms.

  When the judge was finally ready to pass sentence, he asked Santino to stand. My brother did as the man asked, but he turned his head, sweeping his gaze around the courtroom as though he were looking for something other than the judge to focus on while he learned how many years he’d spend in jail.

  Santino’s eyes met mine. They were dark and hooded, and his expression didn’t change. After a moment, he looked away.

  “On the first felony count of distribution of a Class A restricted substance, I sentence you to fifteen years incarceration,” the judge said. “On the second felony count of…”

  I couldn’t listen anymore.

  Scrambling to my feet, I stumbled out of the courtroom, all but running as I burst through the doors to take big, gasping gulps of fresh air.

  How many times did I have to keep learning the same hard lesson? Over and over, my own desperation for family, for a connection, kept leading to deception and heartbreak.

  How often did it need to happen before I stopped blindly handing my heart to people, wanting to trust them, each time hoping they wouldn’t let me down?

  I made it to my car and sat in the driver’s seat for a long time, waiting until I was in a calm enough state to drive. Finally I was able to start the car and drive home.

  When I got there, I found Ruff stretched out and fast asleep on top of my bed.

  Collapsing beside him, I threw an arm over him and buried my face in his neck. “Am I stupid, Ruff? With all that’s happened, am I a total fool to want to trust people?”

  Ruff whined, turning his head to bump it against mine.

  I hugged him tighter, letting my tears soak into his fur. Remembering how Asher had said he could never trust anyone enough to fall in love with them, and how he’d seemed to think I’d feel the same way.

  “No,” I whispered. “I won’t let myself become like him. I want to trust. I want to be able to love.”

  Dragging in a shuddering breath, I lifted my head and wiped my eyes with the heel of my palms. “No man gets to destroy my heart. Not Benedict, not Santino, not even Asher. I won’t let them change me, Ruff. I won’t let them turn me into someone I don’t want to be.”

  Ruff tried to lick my face, and I jerked back, not wanting him to slobber on me. He drooled anyway.

  I frowned down, realizing he was drooling all over the pile of clean T-shirts I’d left on the bed. Now they were covered in saliva, and I’d only put them on the bed because of Asher’s damn cat, and that stupid broken dresser drawer.

  A hot spark of anger burned through me, and I grabbed hold of it like I was drowning. Rage was better than heartbreak. I’d rather smash something than cry.

  Scrambling off the bed, I grabbed hold of the drawer handle and yanked the drawer out so hard, it made a loud cracking sound. The back of the drawer was extra thick, made of two pieces of wood, but the pieces were coming apart. No wonder I hadn’t been able to close the drawer.

  Dropping it on the floor, I kicked it as hard as I could. It slammed against the wall and splintered.

  Bank notes fell out of it. Dozens of dollar bills. Wait, they were Benjamin Franklins. There had to be several thousand dollars hidden in the drawer’s false back.

  It was Santino’s drug money. I stared at it in disbelief for a moment before I realized what it meant.

  The money had to be the real reason my beloved brother had given me his house. He’d hoped I’d unwittingly keep his ill-gotten gains safe for him. And when he’d tricked me, he’d made me an accomplice to his crimes.

  I swallowed hard.

  The crushing weight I’d felt in the courtroom came flooding back, the pressure on my lungs so intense it was hard to breathe.

  I needed to sob or scream or punch the wall.

  Instead I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth together, forcing something to harden inside me.

  That was it. The last straw. From now on, I wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of me or tell me what to do. I was going to be the only person in control of my life. That was a promise.

  Cursing my brother under my breath, I yanked the next drawer out. Sure enough, that drawer had a false back as well, with more hundred-dollar bills hidden inside. And I was willing to bet the dresser wasn’t the only place Santino had stashed his cash. Some of the kitchen cupboards didn’t close properly and the shelves were lined with paper. What if there was more money underneath? His drug money could still be hidden all over the house.

  My legs weakened.

  I wanted to stay furious, to smash the entire house to pieces. But the hurt and sorrow I’d been trying so hard to push away were too strong. I crumpled to the ground. Lying on my bedroom floor, I buried my head in my arms and wailed.

  After a while, I felt Ruff pressing against me. He curled his body around me as best he could, trying to push his nose under the hands covering my face. Putting my arms around his neck, I leaned into him and sobbed.

  A long time later, my phone rang.

  I was still on the floor, but I was empty of tears. Empty of everything. My chest was hollow and my nose had long since stopped running.

  The name on my phone’s screen was Emmy Eaves, the realtor I’d called last week. The one who’d be selling my house.

  I answered the call.

  “Hello?” My voice was hoarse
and my throat was raw.

  “Hi Iola, it’s Emmy. I’ve just been formally notified about the confiscation of the house. We’ve set the date for the auction and I know you’re interested in bidding on it, but I’ll need to hold open homes and bring other interested parties through the place as well. We’d usually ask for it to be empty but I had a call from Asher Lennox asking if I’d allow you to stay in the house until it’s sold. Technically it’s against the rules, but I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m leaving anyway.” To my relief, the words came out remarkably steady. Even a little bit cold. Exactly the way Asher would say them.

  “You’re moving out?”

  “That’s right. I’ve found some money hidden in the house and I’m going to report it. The police will probably want to search the place. I don’t know how long that’ll take, but they may need to tear the house apart.”

  “Really? Wow, okay. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll give a friend in the force a call to make sure I can still run open homes. But unless they say otherwise, I think the auction will go ahead. The real value of that place is in the land, so the condition of the house won’t make much difference.”

  “I’ll leave my house key under the mat.”

  “Are you still interested in buying the place?”

  “Probably not. I need some time to decide what to do.” Though my mind was racing, I felt strangely calm. “The situation’s changed, and I don’t think I’m going to stay in San Dante.”

  “That’s a shame.” She sounded disappointed. “Well, you have three weeks before the house is sold. I hope you’ll change your mind about leaving.”

  “If I decide to buy the house, I’ll come to the auction. Chances are, I’ll be gone by then.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “Anywhere.” I made a weird, involuntary sound in the back of my throat that could have been the start of a hard, humorless laugh.

  After saying goodbye and hanging up, I pulled my suitcase out of the closet.

  Ruff lifted his head and let out a whine.

  “That’s right, boy, we’re getting out of here.” I wiped my eyes again, but they were dry. “It’s just you and me now. We may be alone, but we’re going to be okay. For the first time in our lives, we can go anywhere we want and there’s nothing…” My voice hitched. “There’s nobody to stop us.”

  It wasn’t until I was driving my packed-up car away that I remembered the letter Nemesis had dropped down the back of the dresser.

  Had to be junk mail. If not, I guess I’d never know.

  I dragged my eyes away from the rear-view mirror, not letting myself watch the house grow smaller, and refusing to think about how safe and happy I’d felt there.

  “There’s no going back,” I whispered to Ruff. “Somewhere we’ll find another place to call home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Asher

  Iola was gone.

  The house next door had been filled with police teams for two days while they searched it from top to bottom, even pulling up some of the floorboards in their search for drugs or money. Since then, it had been empty for three long weeks.

  Iola hadn’t responded to my letter. It wasn’t in the mailbox, so she must have received it. But after I’d tried calling and she hadn’t answered her phone, I’d understood that she hadn’t responded because she still wanted to be left alone, and to keep calling against her wishes would probably do more harm than good.

  I wasn’t the only one who felt the emptiness of the house next door like a pit in my stomach. Nemesis hadn’t brought home a single trophy in the last three weeks, and had taken to spending her days sleeping on my pillow. She was clearly moping, missing Ruff.

  As for me, I was trying not to think about the fact I might have lost Iola forever. But the idea she could disappear from my life was a raw, gnawing hole in my gut. It seemed to consume every minute of my day. It was the last thing I thought of before I slept, and the first thing I thought of when I woke.

  I spent a ridiculous amount of time staring into Iola’s empty house, hoping against reason and logic that she might reappear, while cursing my so-called brilliant plan that had somehow turned into the biggest mistake of my life. If only I hadn’t invested everything into completing the property deal, I could try to make things right with Iola. But there was no way to get around the fact I was about to buy her brother’s house and tear it down.

  The day before the auction, I was parking my car outside Dad’s house when my phone rang. Every time that happened, I felt a jolt of hope, thinking it could be Iola.

  But when I grabbed my phone, my screen said it was Emmy Eaves.

  “Hi Emmy,” I said.

  “Hey, Asher. How are things in the construction business?”

  If I were honest, I’d tell her I’d been neglecting my business, leaving my project manager to take responsibility for too many things. Instead I said, “We’ve finished the foundations for the library and post office. Now we’re above ground, work should go quickly.”

  “Great.” Her distracted tone told me she’d only been making small talk. “Are you coming to the auction tomorrow? I expected to see you at one of my open homes. You’re still planning to bid on the house, right?”

  “I’m going to buy it. Are you expecting many other bidders?”

  “A few.”

  There was already a hint of caution in her voice, but I had to ask anyway. “What about Iola? Will she be there?”

  “Asher, you know I can’t tell you about other potential bidders. That’d be a violation of ethics. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  If Iola came to the auction, I’d at least get a chance to speak to her. But it would also mean I’d need to bid against her.

  Would it be worse to outbid her for the house she wanted, or if she didn’t turn up?

  If she didn’t go, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t see her again. No matter where she went, she’d still need to sell her paintings, so I’d be able to track her down.

  I was deep in thought as I knocked on Dad’s front door. When it swung open, Mason was standing in Dad’s hallway instead of my father.

  “Hey,” said Mason. “Glad you’re here. We need to talk.”

  That sounded ominous, and my brother’s expression didn’t make me feel any better. “Is it Dad?” I followed him in. “Did something happen?”

  We’d reached the living room with no sign of Dad when Mason grabbed some papers off the coffee table and handed them to me. “What’s this?”

  I barely needed to glance down at the enormous bill to know what it was.

  “The first time Dad got sick, he didn’t have health insurance. He’s insured now, and I’m handling the outstanding debt.”

  Mason glowered at me. “How long have you known about this, and why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You didn’t need to know.”

  “That’s stupid, Asher.” Mason let out an exasperated huff. “Taking on the whole bill isn’t your responsibility.”

  “It won’t be a problem. I’m about to do a financial deal so big, it’ll be insignificant.”

  His frown deepened. “Do you realize how this makes me feel?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re supposed to look out for each other. That’s what we do.” He waved his hand at the bill, his voice rising. “Why keep it a secret? Does Kade know?”

  “You were in Houston, and Kade was in LA. Besides, after I win a property auction tomorrow, none of us will need to worry about money again.”

  “Look, Asher—”

  “No.” My usual calm tone suddenly deserted me, and the word came out so forcefully, I surprised myself. “Take a look at yourself, Mason. You have scars all over your body. You put your life on the line and sacrificed everything to take down the Medea Cartel. That was dangerous work, and it was just as important to me as it was to you. I wasn’t about to distract you with a bill
when you were in the middle of it.”

  He hesitated, and some of the anger left his voice. “But that doesn’t mean—”

  “My job is to make the money for us.” I didn’t realize how strongly I felt about it until I heard myself saying the words. “We are a team, Mason, and we look out for each other. That means you do what you’re good at, and I do what I’m good at.” I screwed the bill into a ball. “Teamwork means you let me take care of this.”

  I threw the balled up paper over my shoulder. Dramatic gestures weren’t usually my style, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Besides, if I had to let my emotions show, I may as well go all in.

  Mason’s expression softened. “We’re not a team if you keep secrets.”

  I snorted a laugh, startled out of anger by genuine amusement. “That’s funny coming from an undercover agent.”

  His cheeks flushed. “I never hid anything from you.”

  Stalking to Dad’s couch, Mason sank down onto it. Though it was a normal-sized couch, his bulk made it seem small. And when he leaned back, I heard it creak.

  “Listen,” he said. “Mexico messed with all of us. We had to adapt to survive, and without the money you and Kade made, we would have been in real trouble. But I have plenty of money now, and so does Kade. We don’t need you to look after Dad on your own. We need you to talk to us, and let us know what’s going on so we can tackle things together.”

  I moved to sit on the chair opposite him, temporarily lost for words, because what he said sounded so reasonable I couldn’t argue against it.

  Settling into the chair, I drew in a breath and looked up to the ceiling. Iola had accused me of trying to buy and sell people, and something about that kept hitting a nerve. I’d thought I’d been doing the right thing to make sure the people I loved were safe, but now I wasn’t so sure.