“You’ve said what you came to say.” I move to stand in front of Luc and Maggie. “Now I think it’s best if you get back in your truck before you do something you’ll regret.”
He steps back, tossing his cigar on the ground and stomping it out with the toe of his boot. “I’ll show you regret.” He points at me, and then he includes Luc and Maggie in the gesture. “I’m going to make all of you regret being born.”
Spinning on his heel, he stomps to his truck. After revving the engine, he lays on the gas and peels out down the street, leaving twin strips of rubber and dark, acrid puffs of smoke in his wake.
“That guy is the asshole of an asshole’s asshole,” Luc mutters.
I reach for my flask. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Taking a huge swallow, I hope the liquor does more than dull the pain in my head. My nerves could use some TLC from Gentleman Jack too.
“He’s never going to let it go.” There’s a tremor in Maggie’s voice. “And I don’t blame him. Dean was hisson. He has a right to know what happened and—”
“If he were any other man, you’d be right,” Luc mutters darkly. “But he’s not. He’shim. He’d never give us a fair shake.”
The stiffness of his jaw and the slight twitch of his right eye are the only indications of how mad he is. He’s always been able to control his temper. I envy him that.
Maggie swallows and blows out a shaky breath. “He nearly stopped me from buying the bar, you know.”
“What?” I frown at her. “What do you mean?”
“I think he got to the old man who owned the building before me.” Her complexion has drained of color. “The deal was all set to go through, but at the last minute, the seller pulled out. He never told me why, but two days later I saw him eating dinner with Sullivan at Muriel’s Jackson Square.”
“That sonofabitch,” Luc hisses.
I share his sentiment, asking, “So how’d you change the old man’s mind?”
“I didn’t.” She shakes her head. “He died three months later, and his kids ended up selling to me.”
I salute the night with my flask. “Then all’s well that ends well.”
“Maybe.” Her eyebrows pinch together as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth.
Oh, Maggie. My lovely, gracious, tenderhearted girl. Times like these make me afraid for her. The world is big and mean. It has a terrible habit of chewing up sweet things like her and spitting them back out.
Which is one more reason why I have to stick toThe Plan. I need to do everything I can to make sure she’s taken care of, protected. Always and forever.
“Lord.” She presses two fingers to her temple. “What a night, huh?”
A hard ball of remorse goes bouncing through my chest. “Sorry, Maggie.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I think we both know it is.”
“No. It’snot. I promise you, it’s not. Everything is okay.” She reaches for my hand. The soft coolness of her palm reminds me of the first time she slid her hands under my shirt and touched my stomach. My muscles quivered. My skin rippled with goose bumps.
Fool that I am, I close my eyes and pretend for a few seconds that what she says is true. That everything is okay.
ThatI’mokay.
