Sasha’s confirmation text brings my thoughts back to Ever. I should’ve let her go the moment she gave me her name.
Messing with Pretty Boy Ty’s sister is asking for trouble. Not that I can’t handle my shit. What kills me is the thought of having to hurt Ty to have time with Ever, except that Ever decided for us.
Slate settles his clasped hands on his chest. “I don’t tell my cousin shit. If Gage is in her business, he already knows she was at Crimson. That’s his job, man. Guard and protect her from guys like you.”
He smiles with a hard glint in his eyes, and were I a different man, I would have cowered in my chair. Slate is a scary motherfucker, silent and lethal.
“Tell me again what the girl with the pigtails told you about Ever.”
I sent Slate over to DU to check on her. I’d do it, but I’ve been on campus, and someone would recognize me, then tell Gwen. Going to Dumas and not telling her or visiting her would put me on her shit list. I’m already on my brothers’, and to be on my little sis’s? Ain’t doing it. I can withstand my brothers’ animosity and disappointment, but not when it’s from my sweet sis.
Slate drove over early on Tuesday and made the rounds. I sent him a screenshot of Ever’s class schedule. She was in every one of them, thank fuck, before she settled inside the library to study.
The rest of her friends, including my little sis, were MIA.
Are Ever’s friends not as serious or passionate about school as my girl is? I puff out my chest. Fuck me, I am head over heels for a girl who’ll best my time in the service with her college degree. My girl and my sis will have their degrees. I’ll be one proud guy.
Slate, being deprived of the college experience, having signed up for the marine corps straight out of high school, didn’t book it out of town right away. He chummed it up with the football team at their practice for the experience and to gather more intel on Ever.
The coaches must’ve thought he was a walk-on with his size and muscular build. The guys must’ve thought he was there to compete for their position. What people don’t realize is that Slate has this fucking invisible radar for homing in on who would readily run their mouths off the fastest. And they would talk with little effort on his part to get as much information as possible from them.
He targeted Cooper Collins, a kicker for the team. Cooper ran his mouth off about the girl at the registrar’s office. She’s friends with Ever and would have the scoop on her and her group of friends, who call themselves the Sass Squad.
I bark laughter, remembering how Slate scrunched his face in disgust, having to say the words. He glares at me, knowing exactly why I’m busting out laughing. Then my mood sours.
If I ever run into this Cooper guy, I’ll threaten bodily harm for not keeping his trap shut about Ever and her friends when speaking to a stranger. Slate could be a motherfucking stalker, for fuck’s sake.
Slate ticks off on each finger the intel he received from the girl at the registrar’s office. “She has a full-ride scholarship, lives off campus, and works at Sweet Creations bakery in McMillan.”
What’d Ever need five grand for? What trouble has she gotten herself into that she refuses to tell her brother about? Does the money have something to do with a guy and his expensive habit?
Anger pulses through me, and memories of Jules come from left field. The crying, the begging, the twisting of her beautiful face into someone I didn’t recognize, all of it happening when I told her I closed our joint bank account, and what was left was in an envelope on the kitchen counter for her. That was three years ago. She finds a way to get in touch with me. First, it was through Dom. Now, it’s Slate.
“Is there a boyfriend we don’t know about?”
“Not with my cousin around.”
I smirk. Gage as Ever’s shadow is a blessing and a complication.
“But if she does have one and is keeping Ty in the dark, I’m sending up prayers to heaven for the dude.” Slate stares pointedly at me. “Jekyll and Hyde will take out the guy at the knees.”
Ty’s reputation for violence precedes him. He was Pretty Boy Ty, a nickname given to him by his high school crew due to his good looks. Others called him Jekyll and Hyde.
Ty could be nice one moment and take you out by your knees the next with a hard kick to your kneecaps. I saw him do it to a dude on the football field when the guy went on and on about how he’d hit that, referring to Ty’s little sister when she came to his home game with their mom. Ever was fucking ten.
I clear my throat. I’m not scared of the motherfucker. Like Ever said, “Bring it.”
“Ever mentioned a best guy friend who was interested in cars. She was talking about Carlos.”
Slate nods. “He started a collection of DSMs.”
That’s news to me. When I was home from deployment, me and Carlos talked business. We didn’t get into personal shit. Business took up our time. Making money was all I thought about. If I could make more money, Jules wouldn’t cheat. But what I made was never enough for her.
My ego had been my downfall. While on tour, I bragged and showed my buddies Jules’s pictures. Glowing, flawless skin. Long blonde hair. Shapely legs that went on and on. Ample chest. Tight, round ass. Those motherfuckers were jealous as fuck. I saw it clearly on their faces. They wished they could fuck a woman half as attractive as Jules.
I was wrong. They weren’t jealous. They pitied me. They heard the whispers of other soldiers wetting their dicks with my high school sweetheart. A woman I thought I could build a life with. We’d buy a house with the money I saved during my deployment, and we’d have two point five kids.
But Jules changed with every deployment I returned from. She wanted to go out. I needed to stay in. The noises, being around people, were too much for my nerves to handle. I fell into a routine. I got up, ate, and sat in front of the television or tinkered with an old car in the garage because I needed a quiet place to drown out the screams of the dying and to do something with my shaking hands that required them to be steady.
