by Layla Frost
“And if it’s not?” Beck asked.
“Make it one.”
I watched through the open door as they left my office, their silent steps in unison. It was scary how in sync they were, which would’ve made me pity Eddie if he weren’t such a fook-up.
He deserved what he was about to get and more.
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.
The same was true with whispers. For every pound of bullshit spewed, there was an ounce of truth.
And I always listened.
My ear to the ground.
My finger on the pulse of the elite, the underbelly, and everything in between. It was why I was so good at what I did.
It was also how I’d found out Eddie was using. He was getting his shit from Rick and selling out Lars to keep his supply steady.
Lars—Eddie’s stepbrother—and I had done time together. When he’d gotten out, Eddie had helped him open his strip club, giving him a chance that others weren’t willing to give an ex-con. It’d worked well. Lars had found an outlet for his temper, and they’d been golden with the money they were bringing in.
Greed, pussy, and drugs had poisoned it.
Eddie had made his bed. But, based on the whispers, he wasn’t going to be the only one sleeping in it.
Shit was about to get started in a big way.
And I was looking forward to ending it.
But first, there was a call I really didn’t wanna make.
Before I could, though, my phone started ringing.
I’d been expecting to hear from Gus. Had been looking forward to her reading me the riot act about the plane ticket I’d gotten her. It made me hard as fook when the fire lit in her eyes and her voice got raspy. I was a selfish dick and wanted the distraction before I had to call Lars.
When I looked at my cell, though, it was his name on the screen.
That can’t be a coincidence.
The edgy niggling in my gut grew. With adrenaline pumping through my veins, I answered. “Your ears burning? I was about to—”
“Teo’s woman is missing.”
I’d been in prison five months when Lars had come in. It’d been nine months to the day when Kase Teo had shown up in my cell. I’d known what it was like to be alone in hell. Neither of them had to. It’d been the three of us having each other’s backs. Making life safe. Making life bearable.
Teo had been the charmer, defusing situations.
Lars had been the fighter, going knuckles with any shit-starters Kase hadn’t been able to befriend.
And, had they gotten to me, I’d been the finisher. The crazy fooker.
The fookin’ fun one.
Some things never changed.
“You need to know, I’ve got my boys picking up Eddie,” I told him.
“Don’t care. Eddie’s dead to me.” There was nothing but truth in his voice with that statement, but a shit-ton of concern when he continued. “Did you hear me about Teo’s woman?”
“Aye. Where does he think she is?”
“No idea. They were supposed to have dinner, but she was gone.”
“Any chance she’s just ending it? He’s a cocky bastard, maybe he didn’t realize that could happen.”
Lars snorted. “Trust me, Harlow’s made it known to him and his ego. But they’re solid.”
“How solid?”
“The hearts-flowers-forever kind. ‘Til the end.”
“Hell. I’m sorry about the lass. Once I wrap this, I’m on it. But there’s whispers about some shit going down with Rick, Eddie, some stripper—”
“That’s her. Eddie’s involved?”
It’s the night of fookin’ surprises.
I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice. “Teo hooked up with a dancer?”
“It’s a long story. Harlow’s not… she’s just not.”
“Aye.” I rattled off an address. “My boys are taking Eddie there.”
“Got it.” Without another word, he hung up.
I scanned my texts, finding one from Matt that said everything had gone too smooth.
The tension in my shoulders echoed his opinion.
There were a few texts from Gus. I’d known they were coming, but I was disappointed she hadn’t called.
Gus: First class? You can’t do anything halfway, can you?
Gus: But thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.
Gus: I’m still paying you back, though. And not in cookies. It’d take about a million, and if you ate that many, you’d have to spend all day at the gym so you wouldn’t lose your muscles.
Gus: Not that I’ve noticed your muscles or anything.
Gus: Nolan told me about them when he said he missed you.
Gus: If you don’t remember our previous conversation about Nolan missing you, I sound extra crazy right now. Just thank you for the plane ticket and let’s never mention this again, okay? Okay.
It might not have been the reaction I’d expected from her, but as I headed into a swirling shitstorm that’d end with at least one dead body, I was fookin’ hard.
I’m off my fookin’ nut.
GUS
I was a hot mess.
Actually, there was nothing ‘hot’ about it. I was just a mess.
After getting off the phone with Killian, I’d tossed some clothes into a duffel and hauled ass to the airport. It wasn’t until I’d gotten checked in and directed to the waiting area that I’d found out he’d sprung for a first class ticket.
It was going to take me two eternities to repay him.
I’d sent him a series of embarrassing thank you texts that’d gone unanswered—much to my relief and dread—before using the rest of the wait time to email my professors and advisor regarding the unplanned trip.
Standing in front of the hospital, I suddenly wished I’d taken Rosie up on her offer to come with. I’d have dragged her ass along for the ride had I known I was going to feel so… alone.
After a quick pause at the information desk, I nearly got lost in the maze of hallways and elevators before finding the right area. I had tunnel vision, my focus on the cluster of nurses and techs standing behind a circular desk, and didn’t notice anyone until I heard my name.
“Augusta?”
I looked back and saw Miz Susan and Sheriff Mayson standing in the waiting room. There was a woman around my age sitting near them. I didn’t recognize her, but as I approached, she stood.
That’s what happens when you abandon your family to go chase your dreams. You’re on the outside now, Gus.
“How is she?” I blurted. My eyes widened, and I almost expected my meema to come hauling ass around the corner to yell at me about manners. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s been—”
Miz Susan’s smile was kind. “The doctors haven’t been able to tell us much.”
“I flashed my badge,” Sheriff Mayson said, “but they wouldn’t tell me anything other than she’s stable.”
“Thanks for trying.” I looked toward the large windows. “It’s really late. I appreciate you being here, but you don’t have to stay.”
Miz Susan gave my arms a comforting squeeze. “Of course we do. At least until we know everything is okay.”
“Thanks,” I whispered. “I’ll go see if I can get any answers.” Despite what I’d said, I stayed right where I was, blinking back tears. Because, irrationally, I thought if I didn’t hear any bad news, it would mean everything was okay.
Sheriff Mayson wrapped me in a fatherly hug. “Remember when you were learning to drive, and you hit the cow?”
I laughed as he released me. When I caught a glimpse of the mystery woman’s horrified expression, I rushed to explain, “It wasn’t a real cow. It was a big, wooden silhouette in the grocery store parking lot. They’d use it to advertise which dairy farms they were carrying at the time.”
“Oh,” she said. “Good.”
Sheriff James explained, “When Miz Carol Anne was in the store, Augusta decided to joyride the parking lot.”
“It was my first day with my permit, and I was excited,” I filled in.
“And woefully unprepared,” Miz Susan muttered with a small smile.
Sheriff Mayson’s smile wasn’t small. It was big enough to show, years later, he still found it hilarious. “Long story short, in the vast expanse of the mostly empty lot, she hit the cow.”
I put my hands out. “I panicked.”
“And what happened when I stopped?” Sheriff James prompted.
“I don’t remember. I’m pretty sure I was hoping the ground would swallow me.”
He shook his head. “No. There was only a small scratch on the bumper and a bit of scuffed paint on the already weathered sign. I offered to park the car back in the spot in exchange for your word that you’d never try anything like that again. But you raised your chin, steeled your spine, and said, ‘Carol Anne Allan didn’t raise a liar or a coward.’ You marched inside, confessed what you’d done to Mr. Browley, and then told your meema.”
“I forgot about that,” I said. “Mr. Browley made me repaint the whole thing, even though I’d barely left a mark.”
“Mr. Browley was a miserable old man,” Miz Susan told the woman.
“But you painted it without a single complaint. And you earned enough money to have the scratch buffed out of your meema’s car even though she said you didn’t have to. She was so proud of you all the time, but with that? I’m pretty sure she cried when they closed the store and hauled that old cow away.”
He’s right.
Carol Anne Allan didn’t raise a coward.
Inhaling deeply, I nodded. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Anytime,” he said.
Still worried out of my mind, but no longer cowardly, I approached the nurses.
“May I help you, miss?” a young man at a computer asked without glancing up.
“Yeah, I’m trying to get some information about my grandma. Carol Anne Allan.”
The man looked at me for the first time. “You said you’re her granddaughter?”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded.
“The doctor wants to talk to you.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a cordless phone off its dock. “I’m going to page her. Why don’t you have a seat in the waiting area, and she’ll be right with you.”
“Thanks,” I muttered to his retreating back.
I’m not a doctor, don’t even play one on TV, but I don’t think that’s a good sign.
On shaking legs, I returned to where Miz Susan and Sheriff James were waiting. They, along with the unknown woman, looked up at me expectantly.
I could only give them a weird mix of a head shake and a shrug. “He said the doctor wants to talk to me. He’s paging her now.”
There was a flash of concern on Miz Susan’s face, but she quickly masked it behind a forced calm. “That’s good the doctor is so involved. Sometimes you only see nurses and residents until the doctors breeze through. Even then—”
Sheriff James put a hand on his wife’s leg, a subtle hint her babbling was giving away her worry.
“They barely stick around,” she finished weakly before adding, “but not here. Which is good.”
“Right. Good.”
There was a commotion behind me, the deep bickering rumbling in the quiet room.
“Give me my daughter back.”
“Bite me. If I’m gonna be her favorite uncle, I need all the time with her I can get.”
“So when she shits her diaper, I get her. But as soon as she’s clean, it’s back to Uncle Cash?”
“Exactly. Glad you’re on board.”
“Boys,” Miz Susan scolded, as though she were talking to two young kids.
I turned around to see her sons, Asher and Cash.
Meema and the Maysons lived down the road from each other. Although they were technically neighbors, their large, picturesque farmhouses were surrounded by lots of land. Much to the chagrin of my friends in high school, we couldn’t even see their house from Meema’s.
Asher and Trevor were older than me. Cash and Nico were closer to my age, but we hadn’t run in the same social circles. That didn’t mean I hadn’t known all about the Mayson boys, of course. A girl would have to live under a rock to not hear of their tales—likely greatly embellished by obsessed, hormonal girls.
The Mayson boys had been legends back then. Since—in a strictly scientific and observational way—I saw that Asher and Cash had only gotten better looking with age, I was betting they were still legends as men.
Only instead of the girls fighting over them, they were fighting over a small, dark-haired baby.
The baby had different ideas. She began to fuss, much to the panic and despair of Asher and Cash.
“Looks like mama gets the win,” the unknown woman said, pulling her brown hair back before holding her arms out expectantly.
Asher swiped the baby back from Cash and gently placed her with the woman.
Her and Asher procreated?
The world just got a whole lot more beautiful.
“Hey, Gus,” Cash greeted. “I’d hug you, but,” he gestured to a wet splotch on his shirt, “there was a spit-up situation with July.”
“Oh, goodness. My manners.” Miz Susan shook her head. “This is November, Asher’s wife, and their daughter, July.”
I didn’t offer my hand—or much more than direct eye contact—to the nursing mother. “I’m sorry, in the hoopla, I forgot my grandma told me Asher got married and had a beautiful baby. Nice to meet you.” I glanced at Asher, who had a small smile on his face as he watched his wife without her knowing. “Congrats to you both.”
“Thanks.” November grinned before looking down at her baby. “Your grandma always brags about you. She’s such a sweetheart. When Asher saw her through the window, he broke the door to—”
“Babe,” Asher interrupted at the same time Sheriff James and Cash each grabbed one of my arms. It wasn’t until they’d lowered me into a seat that I realized I’d been about to go down.
November’s cheeks were pink. “I’m so sorry. I feel like an ass, I just thought you knew. With being up all night, sleep deprivation…”
“It’s okay.” I tried for a reassuring smile, but knew it was wobbly. “I want to know what happened, I… She’s my only family, you know?”
While everyone else gave me sympathetically warm looks, November nodded solemnly in a way that made it clear she did know. “Before I got in touch with my dad and moved here, it was only my mom and me.” Hurt and anger swirled in her eyes. “She’s not a good person, but I tried because she was all I had.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, really getting that.
She waved her hand to brush off my apology before stroking July’s fuzzy head. “It all worked out.”
Seeing as she was sitting across from me with a beautiful baby, a husband who watched her like she was his world, and she had the Maysons as her family, she was right.
It’d all worked out.
“So, Asher found her?” I asked.
“I’d sent him over with some loaves of fresh baked bread,” Miz Susan said.
Asher took over the retelling. “She didn’t answer when I knocked. I was about to leave, but something felt wrong. Her car was there, and my mom had told her I’d be stopping over. I looked in the front window and saw her on the floor. I called my dad, broke the window on the door, and reached in to unlock it.”
“Trevor is replacing the door right now,” Cash added. “With a better one where someone can’t just break a window to get in.”
My head started to swim again, my voice coming out forced as I said, “Thanks, I didn’t even think about that.”
The Maysons continued talking. From what I gathered, they owned a construction company, so a door replacement was small fries in their skillset. I appreciated the distraction, but my mind was too preoccupied.
After what seemed like a million years, but was only twenty minutes, someone from the hallway called, “Family for Carol Anne Allan?�
�
My stomach dropped toward my shaking legs. “Right here.”
The doctor smiled and gestured to the hallway. “Follow me. We’ll talk in your grandmother’s room.”
Heart racing, blood rushing, and stomach churning, I steeled my spine.
And then I followed.
CHAPTER SIX
FORTRESS OF DICKHEADERY
KILLIAN
“YOU GOOD?”
My eyes were on the warehouse where Rick’s body had been less than fifteen minutes before. Vengeance wasn’t worth the risk, or I’d have left him there, alive and able to fookin’ feel what was about to happen.
Too bad bones didn’t burn.
I didn’t share any of that. Instead, I looked at Lars and nodded. “Aye, I’m good. Matt will give you a ride home. Thanks for helping out.”
“You guys did the heavy lifting and dumping. I just played lookout.” He pulled his pack of smokes from his pocket, put one in his mouth, but let it hang unlit. “I’m gonna wait to light this ‘til we’re about a hundred fuckin’ feet from here.”
“Aye, probably smart.”
“You know I’m always around.” With a chin lift, Lars headed toward Matt and the car. He seemed chill. Calm.
Faking it like I didn’t know him.
Lars was a fighter. A bullet had been put in his cousin, his friend had been kidnapped, and he’d had to be my eyes while my guys had dumped three bodies.
It’d been a motherfookin’ night.
I didn’t know if he had a woman, but either she was about to get fooked through a mattress, or he was gonna find someone to rip to shreds.
The night hadn’t been all shit. Teo’s lass, Harlow, had gotten caught in a shitstorm that wasn’t hers. Rick, and likely Nash, had decided she’d make good collateral for someone else’s debts. From the whispers I’d caught, there’d been bigger plans for her.
Thankfully, she was safe, though it’d had jack-shit to do with me. By the time I’d found her, she’d been literally busting Rick’s balls. Even if I hadn’t shot the bastard to end his miserable life, he’d have lost the use of his shillelagh.
She was a dote, but far from weak. Perfect for Kase. Based on what I’d seen when he’d gotten there, he knew it, too.
I’d had no problem putting a bullet in Rick’s head. He’d fooked me over. After getting my name associated with filth, he’d partnered with a sketchy-as-shit lad named Nash.