I don’t answer. Instead, I promise, “I’ll be careful.”
“And if it’s not enough?”
I frown because I know he’s asking if I’ll be able to clean up my mess by killing her if it comes to that. That’s not a thought I want to entertain. “Have I ever let you down?”
“Never.”
“So I’ll come soon. When I’m done playing.”
C puts a hand on the side of my neck and gives me a look that says, be smart. The hand reminds me of the way my dad used to put a hand on my shoulder. Maybe subconsciously it’s why C does it.
He turns and stalks down the steps without a look back. That’s C down to the bone. He never overplays anything, ever. Anvil’s the same. It’s why I chose them. I was never looking to be lorded over or lectured. And even when things turn deadly, I can’t have anyone around get dramatic about it. C and Anvil are stone cold steady under pressure.
They were both in Frank’s syndicate before me. They’re only a couple of years older, but both were born on the wrong side of the tracks, with criminals for parents, so like me, they grew up fast. At first getting in with them was critical because I needed money. But as soon as we formed a trio, I could tell it was the right fit; I was one of them, and together, we could be more powerful than any of us alone.
C is the leader, but he’s got a light touch about it with ‘Vil and me. That’s how he always gets in my head and brings me back around when I am heading down the road to ruin. Like now.
Turning off the jammer, I reenter my apartment. Laurel’s curled up on my couch, under the guest room blanket she’s dragged into the living room. She stares at the flat-screen as she plays Eve.
A video-gaming girl with long legs, big bouncy tits, and wit that could cut sheet metal. It’s like the devil saw her and knew she was made to bring about my downfall. My pulling out a wooden paddle to use on her was me saying, I know and I don’t care. If it’s my time to fall, I’ll do it while leaning over the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen. The trouble is it’s not just my life I’m risking.
I should put some distance between us for everyone’s sake. Instead, I get a condom from my nightstand so I can fuck her one more time.
* * *
Laurel
Trick’s dressed in black trousers and a crisp white button-down shirt. He’s also clean shaven, and my mind wants to linger on the memory of him shaving in the shower while I leaned against the warm tile watching. Every memory of him from the past two days, even the innocuous ones, is steeped in sensuality.
He escorts me to my parents’ door, like it’s homecoming night nine years ago. Unlike then, I’m dressed in borrowed men’s clothes: his sweatpants, a plain gray t-shirt, and a navy blue hoodie.
“Go,” I whisper.
“I’ll say hello.” He says this casually, but as firmly as he says everything once his mind is set.
Not knowing what I’m going to say and definitely not wanting him to interact with my family before I’ve figured it out, I try to think of a way to convince him to leave.
I grimace as the door opens before I even push a key into the lock. My mom’s smile is nervous as she pulls me inside and hugs me.
I’m stiff in her arms and pull back quickly. “Mom, this is Scott Patrick.”
“I remember.” She smiles and uses her company voice.
My father appears, and his eyes take me in for an extra couple of seconds before they move to Trick. My dad looks him in the eye before shaking his hand.
“Laurelyn and I ran into each other. And then ran into some trouble,” Trick says, his expression appearing open and earnest.
My muscles clench and I’m rigid, waiting for him to describe the trouble he just mentioned. I don’t want him to say anything at all about my being at a gangsters’ poker game at the FBI’s behest. If he does, it’ll raise questions, and then he or they will hear things they shouldn’t.
My mom smoothes her hair down, the way she does when she’s ruffled. “What kind of trouble?”
“A party that got rowdy. Someone was sick on Laurelyn’s dress. The girl’s fine, but Laurel’s dress didn’t make it.” Scott’s smile and casual tone work some of their magic, causing my mom’s shoulders to drop and my dad’s grim expression to lighten.
Mom scrunches her nose as she looks at me. “We don’t understand what took you so long to text us back. We were worried, Laurelyn.”
“Things got complicated,” Trick says. “The party was raided. Everyone had to give statements, and phones were taken so video shot during the party could be reviewed. Looking for drug deals maybe. Everyone’s vowed to crack down.”
My dad’s eyes narrow. Any mention of drugs upsets them, but I wonder if my dad’s grim expression is about more than that. My dad’s not stupid or oblivious to what’s happening in Coynston. He’s aware that Trick is part of C Crue, which makes Trick dangerous, especially for our family, which is in constant upheaval from my little sister’s addiction.
