“Let the man talk,” I tell her. “If he wants to grow up, he has to do grown-up shit.”
“That’s hisbrother,” she stresses, exposing her soft spot for him, even though shit isn’t right between them, and I can’t figure out why. I haven’t spent too much time worrying about it either. Just one less asshole to deal with so it works for me. “He’s already dealt with Emilio?—”
“Something he should’ve done years ago.”
Bay narrows her gaze. “He’s blood related. Emilio was a stand-in.”
“I can handle it,” Torin states confidently. “He’s not going to get his hands on Bay, and he’s in the way. He’s not going to disappear in the night. He’s already called her out and took a side.”
“And it’s not with us,” Cairo adds. “There’s no time for empathy anymore.”
“There shouldn’t have been in the first place,” I retort. “He’s only been Emilio’s lackey for years.”
“You’ve got a lot of balls, Wallace, to talk your shit. I didn’t see you coming up with a master plan to finish all this.”
I roll my eyes at Cairo. “You think I’m stupid enough to waltz into The Landings and handle business and hope you three babies don’t get into your feelings about it? I would’ve rather made it look like a hit without it being traced back to me before I openly did it myself.”
“Who else would it be?” Torin grumbles back. “You’re the only dickhead with a vendetta.”
“And you’re not?”
“The difference between you and me is that Ican’tkill you.” Baby Wildes points at Bay. “She’d fucking killme.”
I like that he knows that.
And I hate he likes her enough to consider her feelings.
It’s the only thing we have in common.
“Do us a favor, McQueen,” Reeve’s voice slithers in, suddenly leaning up against Bay’s side and too fucking close. “Let us handle the older brother, and keep your boy preoccupied so that he doesn’t have an aneurysm. I’m sure he’d love a little lesson in the backseat of a car. Just like you had one with us, yeah?”
Well…if I didn’t have Torin’s attention before, I sure do now.
I can feel the intense hatred beaming off his stare, and I bet he regrets taking those bullets for me now. However, I don’t miss the subliminal that she’s fucked these assholes in a backseat before.
“Reevie,” Bay says, steel laced in her tone. She cranes her head over to him, and there’s a hint of her about to fuck him up if he doesn’t sit there and shut his mouth. “Too soon.”
He smiles at her, obviously not giving a flying shit. “Whatever you say, McQueen.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Torin shoots out, ping-ponging his focus from Reeve, Bay, and then, finally, me. “I’m gone for two seconds, Reeve is fucked up for several weeks, and now?—”
“Another time,” Cairo cuts in, clearly only wanting to discuss business. “My father wants to meet.” He looks at me. “I appreciate you getting him out of that truck and getting him medical assistance.”
I lift my shoulders because I didn’t need the appreciation, but it’s given, nonetheless. “He’s lucky I was there.”
“I still appreciate it. I’ve arranged for the girls to be homeschooled, if that’s okay with Bay, until this shit is figured out. My father knows you are alive and wants to discuss the next steps.”
“I’m not telling you anything. Why would I tell him shit?”
“Because you took Roger’s place, which means you speak to him like Roger did. I don’t have to tell you they had a bond, Wallace. Unless you didn’t read the assignment.”
I did.
Never fully understood why Roger trusted him so much, but he’s never fucked us over before.
“When?” I grind out because this isn’t going to go away and I’m slightly curious about what he wants to say. “And where?”
“His house. We’ll keep it so you can slip through and not be seen by anyone.”
