I’m filled with so much rage I can feel the veins in my neck protruding with each sentence, my blood pressure rising every moment she’s in front of me. “You know how I run my business. You’ve been around me long enough to know how shit is done. There’s a system. There are rules that need to be followed. You’ve taken business and made it personal, Coco. I knew it was a fucking mistake to let you into my world.” Never have I been so angry with Coco, and even with all her teenage bullshit, I never raised my voice at her. I can’t trust myself in this moment, filled with so much animosity.
She pulls away, tears spilling down her cheeks, and I release her out of fear that I can’t control my actions. Her arms wrap around her chest as she hugs herself protectively. “I won’t get caught. I was careful like you showed me. I swear I wasn’t careless.”
I start to pace, running my hands through my hair and cursing myself. “Fuck. You don’t know enough to be careful. I swear to God, Coco, if you get caught, I’m not going to be able to help you.”
“I know,” she says with a sniffle. “But I won’t.” Her voice wavers with uncertainty, and she drops her eyes to the floor. “I’ll never do it again, Nix. I promise.”
“Goddamn right, you won’t.” I turn toward her but keep my distance. “We’re done. I can’t even have you as my assistant anymore. You’re marked and could bring the heat on me that I’ve tried so hard to avoid.”
She chokes on a sob, the impact of my words cutting her like a knife as she glances up at me. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “So, so sorry.” She grabs her purse and starts toward the door as I stand in the middle of the kitchen, ready to go off like a fucking cannon. Before she leaves, she turns back and smiles softly. She wipes away her tears with the backs of her fingers. “I wouldn’t be alive without you. Please know I never meant to hurt you. I love you, Nix.”
“I love you too, Coco,” I say, not trusting myself to say anything more. When I give her a quick nod, my cue for her to hit the road, she takes it and closes the door quietly behind her.
I’m angry with her, but I’m more pissed off at myself. I knew she wasn’t ready for this. She was too caught up in the Hollywood glitz and glamour of the criminal world to realize what a shitshow it can be. It was my job to make sure she understood and talk her out of entering this life, my life, but I failed. I figured she’d lose interest and eventually go to college, but I was fucking stupid, and hopefully she didn’t do something that could alter our lives forever.
No longer able to concentrate on my work or trust myself around anyone else, I grab my tennis shoes and go to the only place I know where I can punch someone in the face repeatedly without getting arrested—the gym. I need a workout, a good ass-beating to relieve some of the pent-up energy and frustration I feel from her actions before I head to the club tonight and see Kennedy. The last thing I need is to go off all half-cocked on another woman in my life.
Remorse floods me when the vision of Coco’s tears and the fear on her face flash before me. Once I calm down and things settle, I will make things right with her.
I had no right to put my hands on her. I’ve never done that before, but I’ve also never let anyone into my world so completely that their actions could impact my life so profoundly. Coco was like my little sister, or maybe my kid, and I love her with everything that I have.
My controlled life has now officially become a shitshow.
19
Kennedy
I’ve been puttingmy father off for a while now, and I can tell from his tone on the most recent voice mail he left that I’m going to have to call him back.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours to return my call before I send someone looking for you,” he says in a clipped tone. “Not a text. I want to hear your voice.”
He’s worried about me, I guess. That’s more than a little ironic. When I was a kid, my mom often didn’t have his help when she needed it since we were his secret family. And now that I’m an adult, he wants to keep track of me?
I was about to walk into Beans to an End because I have a meeting at the Greenlight office, but instead, I sit down on a bench outside the coffee shop and press the button on my phone screen to call him back.
“Kennedy,” he says, answering after just one ring. The relief in his voice makes me soften.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Why haven’t you called me or your mom back? We’ve been worried about you.”
“I was traveling for work.”
After a pause, he asks, “Traveling where?”
“My boss doesn’t like me to talk about our work.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
I laugh lightly. “Don’t worry, Dad. Everything’s fine. I’ve just been busy.”
“Your mom and I want to come see you.”
“Oh, it’s not a good time.”
“It’s never a good time,” he says shortly. “We’ve never even met your roommate, Kennedy.”
“Why is that such a big deal? I’m twenty-three years old.”
