by Jody Kaye
Morgan refusing to imply Rob’s death wasn’t his fault truly gets to my mother. She cries as if it were me who’d been abandoned. Wiping her tears, she asks him to accept her apology for the way she acted when they met.
“You too, Aidy. I’m sorry,” she says as we set the dinner table. Dad’s about to carve the turkey and Morgan’s got a side dish in either hand.
“You were only trying to protect me, Mom. As much as it hurts that you weren’t willing to hear, there’s something to be said for the fact that everyone involved was doing what they were out of love.”
“It never crossed your mind that we didn’t hate Morgan?” she asks in private on our next pass through the room.
“Honestly, I knew his jail time would be hard to accept. But, no, I never thought you’d ever dislike him.”
Mom stops in her tracks.
“What?”
“You’re so different. The girl who left for school in August isn’t the woman talking to me today.”
I raise a finger to my lip. “Shh… Don’t tell anyone. Adulting is hard.” I wink. “Morgan gave me a box filled with bills folded into origami sea life animals and birds. It’s so I can go get my hair done. I’m not sure If I want to spend it now or wait a while and go back to being redhead this summer. I’ve heard sun and chlorine can strip the purple away.”
“You do what’s best for you. When you’re ready. If it means moving to Brighton—”
Teary and thankful, I don’t let my mom finish her sentence. I toss my arms around her again, nearly splatting a platter of stuffing against our clothing.
“Hey, man, how’re you doing?” I slap Brandon’s palm and take a seat next to him at the bar.
Skye is walking in along with Jasper. We acknowledge their presence as they approach us. I don’t let on to Brandon that we’ve all been across the street tying up loose ends.
Jasper set us up with burner phones. It’s easy to presume anyone else Brandon had associated with is steering clear. He makes constant contact and was overeager to hang out when it’s New Year’s Eve.
“Never better.” He lifts a squat glass to his lips and tips the remaining liquid back.
I wiggle my fingers, encouraging Holly to bring him another round.
Many of the late nights I’ve led Aidy to believe I was at work have had more to do with settling this score. It hadn’t taken much over the past few weeks for the three of us to ingratiate ourselves into Brandon’s pathetic existence. He’s out on bond and the college evicted him from the dorm he lived in. He’s not registered for any upcoming classes, and I switched off the news when the local channel flashed his mug shot. I already know way more than the reporter ever will thanks to Skye, and Jasper’s connections.
I’d like to have more remorse that his life is crumbling around him. I’ve been there. The difference is I didn’t rape anyone once, let alone sexually assault numerous people on as many occasions. I also know if this gets tied back to me—which it won’t—I’d confess. Leaving everyone else out of it, of course. I mean, other than dying, what’s going to happen to me that hasn’t? And Aidy knows whether she’d choose to stay or go, I did this for both of us. I can’t get my guy, so hers will have to do.
I shake my head, watching Brandon take in Holly’s short shorts and long legs.
Thank god Aidy and Hailey are back at Trig’s, safe and none the wiser. We told them we were making a champagne run after finishing up a few things at the office. The bottle Jasper picked out is chilling. I doubt it’ll have time to warm before this is over.
“You ever been here before?” Brandon’s obvious while adjusting the dick in his pants like the dick that he is.
“A few times.” I haven’t mentioned I work here. Using the club as a ruse to get Brandon on our turf was brilliant. His ridiculous interest in strippers was a fucking cliché.
“I come here all the time.” Skye undresses Holly with his eyes. He turns, leaning his back against the wood and pointing to Celine who is working the floor. She moves closer to the bar, flirts and winks at Brandon while whispering to Holly. “That chick gives an out of this world lap dance.” He tacks on lewdly, “With her mouth.”
“Fuck, ya?” Brandon’s lip curls up. Amped up by the tiniest advance, he’s down with paying a stripper to go down on him and doesn’t notice my jaw clench at Skye’s comment.
“What are you having, boys? I’ve got other customers.” Holly taps her manicured fingertips on the counter.
Skye one-eighties to see across the bar. “A little of you.”
Holly chuckles, pretending she’s flattered by the attention Skye gives her. “Sweetheart, we’ve been over this one too many times. You may come here a lot, but I’m not going home with you tonight. What do you want to drink?”
The rest of us make the man-child low “ooh” burn sound as Holly spurns Skye. We give her our order—the specialty drinks Kimber concocts for the staff to order while they’re on the clock—none of which have alcohol in them.
“Dude, you can’t say Cece’s slobbering on your balls while Holly’s in earshot.” I punch him hard in the arm. Lie or not, Celine’s my sister.
“Sure I can. It’s not like Holly doesn’t know the dancers will suck a tip if it means a bigger one in cash. This is a strip club, for Christ’s sake. And it’s not like I’ve screwed them both at the same time. Hmm… That sets your mind reeling, doesn’t in Brandon?” He waggles his brows and grins.
“There’s a mental image I didn’t need.” Jasper shivers. “And fat chance. I’ve heard a rumor Cece is tight with her pussy.” He leans back as if he’s challenging Skye.
“What do you mean?” Brandon takes the bait.
“It means she’ll only go so far. She draws the line at having actual sex with the clientele.” Jasper cautions.
“A lot of strippers are like that,” Skye interjects.
“Not all of them, though,” Brandon says, almost as if it’s a question.
Jasper bats his hand in the air. “Nah, I suppose most are in a position where they can be persuaded to do just about anything. I mean, how desperate do you have to be to take off your clothes for money?”
I grind my teeth, thinking of my sister. I’m glad Brandon’s hanging on Jasper’s words instead of paying attention to me. Jasper knows the girls who work here better than I do. The disrespect he’s showing isn’t normal for any of us. I’m stuck going along with everything he and Skye spew because they’re doing this for me.
“My girl? She’s sweet.”
“The bring-home-to-your-momma-girl-next-door type,” Skye proclaims.
“I don’t know about those types.” I goad Jasper about Aidy’s former roomie.
“Are you kidding me, Morgan? Those women have the tightest cunts and they’re wild in bed.” I know Skye’s acting a part.
Holly and Cece are in on it to a degree too.
It hasn’t been for lack of trying that Skye’s never fucked Holly. She’s an attractive woman, but puts a full-stop to his constant advances, saying Skye is too young for her. I’m unsure whether or not he’s been with Celine and I’m not about to ask because she’s my fucking sister and my mind won’t be able to unknow that. I’m glad both ladies are on our side.
I shrug my shoulders, looking at Jasper for confirmation. Aidy and I still haven’t. The fooling around we do aside, it’s been long enough for me I qualify for born-again status.
“She ain’t ever been anybody else’s so I can’t compare,” he replies with a hint of remorse. Jasper keeps his relationship with Hailey under lock and key. He also keeps her on a tight leash, saying it’s for her own protection because she is so young and sheltered.
“I had a girl like that one time.” I’ve noticed Brandon enjoys sharing time. He’s like a kindergartener raising his hand for the teacher to pick him next to show off a shiny bauble. “Nice chick and all. But, after a few weeks of being led around by my balls, they were blue.”
I choke on my beer. A few weeks? I’m not sure Aidy
knew Brandon for a full week. Skye slaps my back a few times. I shrug him off and call him the name I’d rather spew at Brandon.
He smiles good-naturedly. It takes a lot to piss Skye off, and half of the shit he’s saying isn’t even true. He wants to see how far he can push Brandon. I need to cut him some slack. Skye’s in my corner.
“Thought it would take more to get her to put out, but she didn’t put up much of a fight.” Brandon brags.
“You’re talking about high school girls. They’ll believe whatever you tell them to get in their pants. There’s no challenge there,” Skye pshaws.
“She was a Pinewood College girl.” Brandon stops for a second, pondering. I can almost see him replaying events in his mind. “If I’d known she was a virgin…” he cocks his head. “I might have stuck around for round two. I figured she was toying with me and I’m too damned young for the girly-love-relationship crap.”
“So what? You take her to dinner, home, blow your load, and leave?” Jasper yawns, stretching as if the conversation is boring him.
“Got her loaded at a party and carried her back to her place.”
“Do that a lot?” I ask.
“Same story, different lay.” Brandon is nonchalant, joking he’s taken advantage of more than one woman.
Holly’s had her back to us at the bar mixing drinks. “Special delivery from my friend over there.” She places a cocktail in front of Brandon. He turns and Cece is wiggling her fingers in his direction. Brandon grins like the fool he is, taking a sip, and toasting a thank you to my sister.
“Any good?” Skye asks about the drink.
Considering the buzz Brandon’s already got a head start on, I doubt he’s even tasted it. He shrugs and hands Skye the glass to try. It gets passed around, so that even on camera it’ll be hard to figure out which of the four of us laces his drink.
A few minutes later Brandon’s blinking his eyes, trying to stay focused on Cece while his lids droop. She strides up, gripping his shirt front. He trails after her to one of the private curtain rooms like a cartoon dog on a leash with his tongue dragging on the ground. The guys and I pretend to laugh at his luck, but it’s really watching his drunk ass stumble as he disappears.
It doesn’t take long for Cece to signal us Brandon is out cold. We all walk toward the tiny space as if they’re asking us to join in.
Gross.
We’re crowded shoulder-to-shoulder and Cece sits at the far end of a bench, rolling her eyes. “I’m not even going to ask where you found this one or what you’re up to. He’s the worst of the worst.” She’s skevved by his presence. A tiny tremor runs up her spine.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No. But not for lack of trying. Holy shit, I’m used to being groped by drunk guys, but I’ve never felt like I needed a shower to delouse myself more than in the ninety seconds before he conked out.”
I pull Celine up and hug her. “Where’s the bag I gave you?”
“I stuffed it between the wall and the cushion. Do not get yourself in over your head, Morgan,” she warns, glaring at Brandon like he’s the root of all evil.
My sister is too damned smart and I know she’s onto me when I tell her, “I won’t.” Because I am. Trig said if go through with this, there’s no turning back. After seeing the way the system works, all I have to say is all is fair in love and war.
“Tell Aidy I’m wishing her a Happy New Year.” Cece kisses my cheek before leaving. “You too.”
“I will. Hope you don’t mind Dusty’s getting you home safe tonight, sis.”
The shake of her head is imperceptible as Cece draws the curtain close behind her. A beat later, the music on stage becomes deafening.
I’d like to say we stood there and did something as innocuous as pissing on Brandon. However, he’s bragged that he’s applying to med school to become a surgeon and to make that happen he’ll need years of physical therapy on his hands.
His upper limbs are a mess when Skye pulls the gigantic duffle out from between the wall and couch. Although no blood’s been shed, the worst is yet to befall Brandon.
Jasper puts his cell to his ear after we’ve crammed buddy-boy in a fetal position into the bag. “Feeds are good?”
Skye checks his own phone. “The bug I planted is active and will override tonight’s surveillance and copy last night’s over it with a fresh timestamp. Mordecai’s guys have ten to get in and out.”
“And they have the decoy in case another issue arises with a camera on the block we don’t control.” I mention.
“Can you make it in the next five minutes?” Jasper asks whoever is on the line. The response is an instant knock on the emergency exit this room has.
With an oomph, a guy double our size shoves an identical bag at Jasper, which seems as full.
“Don’t forget. He’ll collect.” The guy states before hoisting our bag over his shoulder.
Skye ducks out to tell Holly he thinks the emergency exit in the room has a problem and he wants a no admittance sign, so no one takes a client back here.
Jasper lifts the bench cushion and puts the large bag inside to hide it.
“I owe you,” I say to him.
“I knew what I was signing on for when Carver recruited me.”
“This is different. We both know that.”
“Forget about it. I already have.” He grips my shoulder. “Happy Fucking New Year.”
I take a few minutes alone behind the steering wheel to collect my thoughts. As easy as it played out, I don’t think Jasper or Skye have orchestrated anything like what we did to Brandon before. There’s something about physical violence that doesn’t mesh with the way I see Carver’s business run. Right there is the major difference with white collar crime: We had to call in someone, whereas an MC would have zero guilt dumping an actual dead body. My friends and I retreat to separate corners under the pretense that nothing that’s happened in the last half house troubles us.
In the rear view mirror, I watch Jasper come out of Sweet Caroline’s alone.
“Where’s Skye?” I ask.
“Flirting with Holly. He said we should send Aidy and Hailey his regrets.”
A noise that sounds like agreement comes from my throat and I pull into traffic.
After settling things between Aidy’s parents and me, I’d wanted January to be a fresh start all around. I can’t lie to myself and say I’m unaffected by what we did to Brandon. It’s far worse than the negligence I went to prison for. The only thing keeping my guilt at bay is, given the opportunity months ago, I’d likely have beaten Brandon within an inch of his life on my own for what he did to Aidy. All we did was give him a dose of his own medicine and change the trajectory of his life by taking away something he valued. If he gets off on the charges against him, he’ll have a tough time getting back into college or a medical school accepting him, let alone have the dexterity to write a prescription. There’s poetic justice in it because if the guy was this big a deviant now, what would it take for him to drug a patient later on?
I don’t know what will happen to Brandon from here on out. I’m not even sure I care to keep up with his trial or the outcome. I’ve gotten what I needed to settle the score. When the emergency door closed, he was alive. Jasper’s vague instructions to his contact were to get rid of Brandon. They weren’t asked to kill him, simply make sure none of us are linked. If Brandon isn’t found, I want to believe I won’t have that on my conscience.
Our girlfriends meet us with the television playing the ball drop festivities on low in the background. Takeout from the Mongolian barbecue fills the counter. They’d gotten the food. We’d snagged the booze. I have one beer with Jasper and he winds up downing the others in the six-pack. Next New Year’s Trig and Kimber should be around. As the countdown begins, I’m already making plans to take Aidy to do something special then. Maybe get dressed up and go out on the town.
“Five. Four. Three. Two. One!” Aidy and Hailey chant in unison.
The champagne
cork pops and they both squeal, jumping out of the way of the frothy foam spurting from the bottle’s neck and laughing.
I wrap my arm around her middle and draw her close to me for a kiss. She’s still smiling and giggling when Owen starts crying in his nursery.
“Oops. We were a little loud.” Aidy darts up the steps and brings him back down. Unwilling to reveal the underlying reason she doesn’t want the drink Hailey has poured her anymore, she uses babysitting her brother as an excuse.
Hailey gives him a paper top hat to play with, pronouncing him Baby New Year. We let him toot the noisemakers like kazoos. An hour later, the time catches up with us. Since Jasper’s been drinking, he and Hailey sack out in the guest room for the night. Hailey and Aidy have already decided we’re going to a diner with Wolfpacker omelets when everyone wakes up.
Up in the attic, Aidy snags one of Owen’s blankets off the dresser that’s gotten left up here while we’re taking care of him. The furniture company delivered everything a few days after Christmas, except the Papasan chair Aidy’s settling into as she wraps Owen up to get him to sleep. Don—I’m still getting used to calling Aidy’s dad by his first name—helped me pick up the chair from another store and carry it up here. He and Ghillie had wanted to see where Aidy was living.
They’ve agreed Aidy will pick up a few courses at Brighton Community College, but she still has one or two she’ll take at Pinewood’s campus. It’s a fair trade. Aidy can still dive into psychology while pulling her GPA up.
Most of Aidy’s stuff is down in the guest room. She’s even brought some silver-framed pictures she loves, but I don’t think anyone’s fooled we’re not living together and that includes her parents. I’m sure the only reason they’re loosening the apron strings is because of what Trig said on Christmas Day.
I lie in bed with my nightstand drawer open. A piece of paper from the stack I keep tucked inside slides through my hands. My nails form creases, folding the way a carver sculpts rock. It’s taking a little longer than normal for Owen to settle. So far I’ve made three cranes, a frog, and two butterflies. The actions are so natural my hands move without comprehending what the next angle will be.