Jonny's Redemption (Gemini Group Book 7)

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Jonny's Redemption (Gemini Group Book 7) Page 9

by Riley Edwards


  Nix shook his head in disappointment and leveled Jonny with a stare that would bring a lesser man to his knees. “We’ve been together enough for you to know you’d be doing all of us a favor if you came aboard. You know I’m offering you a job because I need you. And fuck you for saying otherwise. You’ll have your credentials. We’re going over the security brief tomorrow, I’ll expect you in the office at eight. And McKenna’ll email you your contract. I expect it filled out and on my desk before you leave tomorrow.”

  Nixon paused but not long enough to agree or disagree before he continued. “And we already cleared out the downstairs office we were using for storage. It’s hella small but it has a window. I expect your ass behind that desk. Jameson already put together a file he needs you to go over. You can do that after the brief.”

  “If that’s your way of convincing me to take the job, friend, I have to tell you you’re doing a shit job.”

  “Right. Then the alternate scenario is you buy-in. You don’t want me to be your boss, then you become a partner. Already talked to Weston, Jameson, Alec, Chasin, and Holden—they’re all on board. They want you in however that comes to be. Same buy-in we offered Alec when he joined. I’ll have McKenna print out the documents. Look them over. If you’re interested, we’ll walk across the street to Sagle’s office, he can charge us five hundred dollars an hour to draw up a new operating agreement, and you’ll be the proud owner of Gemini Group. Or you’ll be one-sevenths owner as it were.”

  Part owner in Gemini Group.

  Fuck, he wanted that.

  He could do the job he was born to do and not be bogged down with red tape. No more Cassie Hampton calling in only to go back to her abusive husband and get the shit kicked out of her only to start the fucked-up merry-go-round all over again. No more having to beg and plead with the State’s Attorney to do his job and prosecute the criminals Jonny arrested. He could follow the leads and trust his gut. He could have a team of men at his back. No, not a team—friends. Men he trusted. And then there was McKenna, Nixon’s wife. The woman was brilliant with a computer, most of which Jonny had had to turn a blind eye to when he was a cop. The work McKenna did wasn’t legal but no one could argue with the outcome. At the end of the day, she’d saved lives because of her skills.

  So Jonny made another decision—this one far easier than the one he’d have to carry out when he got to his mother’s house.

  “Call Sagle. Tell him to get started on the operating agreement.”

  “Good choice.” Nix smiled.

  “I appreciate—”

  “Don’t say it, Jonny. Don’t tell me you appreciate it when we both know it’s not needed.”

  “It is needed. And I’m not just talking about the job. I appreciate you always having my back even when I didn’t have yours.”

  “The way I see it, Jonny, you’ve always had my back. When we were growing up and when all that shit went down with my wife, you also had hers. I’d say I owe you for that, but you’d twist it up into some bullshit about me wanting you at Gemini Group as some sort of repayment instead of you acknowledging you were a damn good cop. But more than that, you’re smart and your instincts are spot-on. I think you’ll find without all those pesky laws holding you back you’ll actually get to do what you’ve always wanted. Protection, stripped down to the purest sense of the word.”

  It was safe to say Nixon Swagger knew Jonny.

  “I’ll be in at eight.”

  “I’ll have keys ready for you. Now get back to your woman. And if you need help with your mom call me.”

  Another punch to the gut. That simple; call if he needed help.

  Jonny stood in the reception area and looked around, letting Nixon’s offer wash over him. He was going to need help, there was no doubt about it. And when the time came, he’d call Nixon.

  “Will do.”

  “One more thing, Jonny. When you’re ready, I hope you tell me that long, fucked-up story. Not because I need you to give it, but because, brother, you’ve been living under a cloud since you were ten years old and it’s way past time you get that shit off your chest. It was time when Doug was fucking up in high school and bore the brunt of that. It was time when he fucked over his wife and kids. I think sometimes you fail to remember he did those things, not you. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know but Doug was an asshole. He was one when we were kids and he grew into an even bigger one.”

  It was on the tip of Jonny’s tongue to defend his brother. Years of conditioning to make excuses, to lie and brush it under the rug. A hard habit to break but one Jonny was determined to free himself from.

  “He was more of a motherfucker than you can imagine. A story I should’ve told you a long time ago. A story that Macy and Alec need to hear. It's time to come clean about everything.”

  Nixon nodded but said no more.

  Jonny walked out of the office, jogged down the stairs, and made it to his truck. All the while hatred suffused his body. Calvin and Doug were still fucking Jonny from the grave.

  12

  Jonny was going to freak.

  It was a good thing he’d taken off to cool down because if he’d been the one to walk into the mess that was his mother’s house he would’ve lost his ever-loving mind.

  The drive back to Mrs. Spencer’s was awkward at best. The woman looked older than she had the last time I saw her but her demeanor was childlike. She looked properly chastised and was silent after Vaughn had explained that I was there to pick her up. She hadn’t asked where Jonny had gone even though I knew she saw him at the station. When we’d arrived at the house, she’d sheepishly argued I didn’t need to wait with her for Jonny’s return. However, albeit reluctantly, she’d let me in.

  And that was when I saw it.

  The real reason she didn’t want me in her house. I was a virtual stranger so I understood her not wanting me to see the state of her house. But, seriously, the woman should’ve been more concerned with how Jonny was going to react.

  It was abundantly clear Mrs. Spencer had a drinking problem. It could also be undisputed she couldn’t be left on her own while her son was out of town. I wasn’t sure if she’d even taken out the garbage in the last month. If the smell was anything to go by, she hadn’t. Dishes were piled in the sink, though not as bad as it could’ve been which meant she probably hadn’t eaten a whole lot. But what she lacked in plates and forks in the sink, she made up for in empty wine, vodka bottles, and glasses.

  I started with the empties—Jonny didn’t need to see the evidence of his mother’s problem. After I’d gathered all the bottles and found the trash bags, I filled two. Yes, two trash bags full of empty alcohol bottles. Not a drop left in any of them. When I was done with that, I placed them by the back door because Mrs. Spencer hadn’t put her outside cans at the curb to be picked up by the garbage truck, therefore I had to shove the kitchen trash in the last of the space left in the cans. After that, I tackled cleaning the kitchen.

  The house smelled atrocious and I feared it was from more than the overflowing trashcan. It reeked of vomit. I’d searched the common rooms and couldn’t find the source but I’d yet to get into Mrs. Spencer’s room. As soon as we’d walked in, she promptly hightailed into the master bedroom and shut the door. I’d been there a hot minute and had all the windows open but the stench was not dissipating. I bleached the kitchen and the unpleasantness of puke mingled with Clorox.

  Unfortunately, Jonny didn’t miss the odor when he walked in the door.

  “What the fuck?” His nose scrunched as he sniffed the air. Then his eyes dropped to my yellow-gloved hands and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “What. The. Fuck?”

  “Jonny,” I whispered.

  I didn’t know what else to say. He knew. It didn’t matter that I cleaned away the bottles and scrubbed the kitchen—he still knew. I wondered how many times he’d found his mother’s house in this state. Then I wondered why his mother still lived in the house that Jonny had grown up in. The same house w
here her husband and son were killed. The same room I was now standing in.

  Why would she force Jonny to relive the nightmare every time he came to see her?

  God, that was fucked-up.

  I couldn’t stop the chill that ran up my spine. Yes, it was so much better that my mother bailed when she did. I would rather live the rest of my life with the fear of abandonment coursing through my veins than have to watch my mother live like Mrs. Spencer did. It was beyond cruel. I hated Jonny being in this house.

  “How many bags did you haul outside, Bobby? Two? Three?”

  Damn.

  “Two,” I answered him honestly.

  A door creaked open and suddenly Mrs. Spencer appeared. She hadn’t changed her clothes. This was unfortunate.

  “You’re unbelievable,” he hissed. “You play the part well. Mourning widow in funeral black, visiting her loving husband on his birthday. Though you always did, didn’t you? The good wife, standing by her husband, pretending to be a perfect family. When it was all a bunch of shit.”

  “Jonathan,” Mrs. Spencer gasped.

  Her scared gaze skidded to me but she couldn’t draw up the courage to ask me to leave even if the request was clear. She didn’t want me to know the truth and had no way of knowing I already did.

  “You could’ve killed someone!” he roared.

  Waves of hostility rolled off of Jonny, the air so thick with anger it was enough to choke an elephant. Mrs. Spencer had the good sense to flinch but didn’t offer an apology.

  “Jesus Christ. You don’t even care. You’re so far up your own ass, drunk all the time you do not care you could’ve killed someone today. Tell me, Ma,” he spat the word like it tasted bad. “How many times did you drive to the liquor store smashed? More worried about another bottle of vodka than some innocent motorist on the road. Is it worth it? Huh? Tell me, is it so important you stay numb to your lies that you’d risk killing someone?”

  “Today’s hard for me, Jonathan. You know that. Your father—”

  “Stop talking,” he cut her off. “I’m done.”

  “Your father—”

  “You mean the piece of shit who cheated on you? That father? The one who brought his love child into my home and crushed my mother. That father? The one who continued to fuck other women while you raised his child. That’s the father you’re talking about? Because if you are, I’ll tell you I hope he’s rotting in hell. I don’t give the first fuck it’s his birthday. I don’t care if it’s hard on you. And you wanna know why? Because I am done watching you slowly kill yourself. I’m done with you picking him over me. I’m done with you pretending that we were some happy family when we absolutely were not. I hated him while he was breathing and I hate him now.”

  Jonny pulled out his phone and started stabbing at the screen. Through this, I was watching Mrs. Spencer and to my horror, she didn’t get on her knees and beg her son’s forgiveness for hurting him. She didn’t sob her apology and tell him she loved him more than life. She stood silently looking like she was the wounded party.

  I looked back at Jonny and my heart broke. He didn’t look like a man who was done. He looked like a man who was beaten down. A boy who loved his ma. Why couldn’t she see what she was doing to Jonny? Or if she did, why didn’t she care?

  “Yeah, Uncle Bryan.” Jonny’s voice boomed through the room. “Sorry to bother you but we have a problem. If you can, I need you to come down and talk to your sister.”

  “Jonathan,” Mrs. Spencer snapped.

  Gone was the shrinking, wounded woman. She looked positively outraged. However, she was no match for her son’s cold detachment. He was too far gone to acknowledge his mother’s anger.

  There was a short pause then Jonny went on, “I’ll explain everything when you get here. You should plan on staying a few days, but when you leave you’re taking her with you. She’s an alcoholic, has been most of my life.”

  Mrs. Spencer moved with shocking speed and lunged for Jonny. He easily sidestepped her. Without removing the phone from his ear he told his mother, “Unless you want to find yourself in handcuffs twice in one day, you’ll move away and sit down.”

  She didn’t sit down but she did step back. She narrowed her eyes on her son and snarled, “Get out of my house. You’re no longer welcome.”

  If Mrs. Spencer’s unkind words hurt Jonny he didn’t let on. His stoic face showed no emotion. I, on the other hand, was ready to pull the woman back into her bedroom kicking and screaming if necessary. I didn’t want her anywhere near Jonny.

  “Yes, you heard that correct,” Jonny said into the phone. “Your sister was arrested today, DWI. It’s her first offense, she’ll get off with a fine and community service. She needs help, Uncle Bryan, she will not listen to me, and after today I’m done. That means you’re up.”

  “Get out.” Mrs. Spencer pointed to the door. “Get out of my house right this instant.”

  “Yeah, that’s her kicking me out of the home where I grew up,” Jonny told his uncle. “This is after I got an embarrassing call from an old work colleague to inform me my drunk mother’d been hauled in for drinking and driving. This is after I drove home from Dewey to pick her up. After my woman brought her home and had to walk into a filthy pigsty. By the smell of this place, she’s been on a month-long bender. She’s lost weight, she looks like shit, the house is filthy, she’s been arrested, and yet she still will not admit she has a problem. She needs help, lots of it. Obviously, I’ve failed to get her what she needs. So it’s your turn, Uncle Bryan. That is if you care what happens to her because I am not doing this anymore.

  “Her and my father’s bullshit ruined my childhood, my high school years, and almost got me killed. I’ve been forced to live a lie and I will no longer live this way. I don’t know if she’s got alcohol in the house and I’m not sticking around long enough to search so I don’t know the state you’ll find her in when you get here.”

  Jonny finally finished his tirade and took in a deep breath of noxious air. God, the place really did reek. The fact that Jonny had not been in complete shock when he’d walked in spoke volumes and I hated, despised, loathed all it had to say. But more, I detested he’d done it alone. He was alone. No one to take his back, hold him up, listen when he needed to vent. My Jonny had alienated himself to protect a secret that was not his.

  “We’re leaving,” Jonny snapped.

  I must’ve missed the end of his conversation with his uncle because he was off the phone and looking at me.

  “Okay.”

  Without hesitation, I moved across the room and when I got to his side, I grabbed his hand.

  “Your brother’s on his way. He’ll be here in a few hours. I suggest you take this time to pack what you want to bring with you to New York,” he said to his mother and started for the front door.

  “I hate you.”

  My step faltered and my insides turned to ice. Jonny’s hand in mine shook and I looked up just in time to see the devastation those three words wrought. Straight-up pain sliced through his handsome face. I knew what that anguish felt like. I could acutely remember the agony words caused when they were spoken in malice.

  “How dare you,” I seethed, and craned my neck to look at Mrs. Spencer. “Get some help.”

  “I don’t even know why you’re here,” she returned.

  “No, you wouldn’t, seeing as you know nothing about your son. You have no idea what he’s given up for you. You’re too busy drowning in a bottle to see the magnificent man he is. The only good thing you ever had in your life and you’re throwing him away.”

  “This is family—”

  “I am Jonny’s family,” I cut her off. I needed to finish what I had to say and get my man home. Someplace safe, far away from his mother. “He could’ve been yours, too, but you turned your back on him. It’s so pathetic, I can’t even find it in myself to hate you. I want to. You’re a nasty, miserable, poor excuse of a woman. And I really want to hate you for all the hurt you’ve caused, but
all I feel for you is pity. You will never know the man your son grew up to be. You’ll never know the goodness he has in him. How warm his love feels. How when he laughs it lights the room. It was all yours long before it was mine but you chose to wallow in unhappiness instead of taking care of your son. Get some help, Mrs. Spencer.”

  When I was done I tugged Jonny to the door, opened it, and shoved him through. His stiff body followed me to his truck and he did it breathing heavy. I was rethinking hating her; maybe I could exchange emotions and stop feeling sorry for her. After the years she’d neglected Jonny it was what she deserved. She’d made that particular bed and I hoped when she was lying in it her callous words haunted her. I hoped she felt every ounce of pain she’d inflicted on Jonny.

  “That was impressive,” Jonny muttered, and pulled me to a stop at the side of his truck.

  “What?”

  “Normally when you’re pissed, your sexy drawl comes out. You start spouting off all these cute Southern adages that make absolutely no sense. But just now you laid my mother out and your voice didn’t even pitch high. It was impressive.”

  “This isn’t funny.”

  I immediately regretted my statement when the amusement left Jonny’s eyes and the glacial stare returned.

  “You’re right, there’s not a goddamn thing funny about the shitshow that is my life. But never have I had a single fucking person take my back when I was going up against their bullshit. So I’m concentrating on that feeling instead of walking back into my mother’s house and ripping her goddamn head off for being such a self-centered bitch.”

  I felt at that juncture it was prudent I give Jonny anything he needed so I relaxed as much as I could and smiled.

  “Your place or mine?” I asked.

 

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