“I swear I paid all the bills on time.” I shifted my eyes in the direction of the door with a tilt of my chin.
Dex’s attention shifted to the envelope that had been taped up. His strides got longer, making him pull me just a little as we closed the distance to his shop. He didn’t bother opening the door before tearing the blank white envelope across the top, yanking out an index sized card from inside.
The first sign I had that something was wrong was the flexing of a vein in his temple, then the corners of his eyes wrinkled, and finally his jaw clenched. He looked up and turned around, sweeping up and down the street in one glance. His grip tightened before unlocking the door and shoving me not so gently inside, locking it behind us.
“What happened?”
His eyes cut over to me, wide and battling some unknown war I had no clue of. I kind of expected him not to say anything, to keep me from worrying or something equally chauvinistic-like, but Dex shot me a hard look instead. “Shit’s up with The Reapers. I need to go talk to Luther, babe.” His hand tugged on mine. “Lock the door after me, and don’t open it unless it’s me or one of the guys.”
Oh crap. I nodded at him. “What if you’re late?” It wasn’t unheard of for Blake to get to work fifteen or twenty minutes after opening.
Dex shrugged. “Don’t open it, Ritz. It's nothin' bad but I need to go see Lu.” He trailed his fingers over my knuckles. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He left, leaving me to think about what Liam had said about the deadline for the revised debt. Friggin' crap. Why the heck were so many things out of my control? I wasn't a control freak but the complete absence of it was alarming and frustrating. Everything would hopefully work itself out once Sonny found our dad.
In hindsight, I should have known better than to ever assume that.
Chapter Thirty
There were very few things that ranked higher than calling Sonny on my list of things I didn't want to do.
Like getting my yearly pap.
Or having a root canal.
I’d even go as far as to say that I’d rather get an enema while stuck in a room with a flying roach.
For a few minutes in the break room, I'd even considered having a drink to relax me a little bit before facing the firing squad also known as my brother. But... yeah, no.No. I'd put it off for enough time. Now, with the note that had appeared on Pins' door, my time had run out.
The first thing out of his mouth after he picked up was, "I know your phone's not broken, kid."
I sighed. Of course this wasn't going to be easy. "I'm a big ol' chicken."
Sonny huffed. His tone was rough and straight to the point. "No shit."
"I'm sorry," I moaned pitifully. He had more than enough reasons to be mad at me for ignoring his calls but still. When Sonny was mad it was like having your guardian angel disappointed in you. It hurt. "I know I suck."
He huffed again. "The only thing that sucks is that you couldn't just call and tell me what you did. I had to hear it from Luther. Not you."
This conversation sounded remarkably like one I had with my mom when I forgot to take my medicine.Do you want to end up like me, Rissy?Obviously it was completely different subjects but the point was the same. I seemed to disappoint the people I loved the most sometimes.
And that...
Guilt and pain ripped at the cavern of my ribs.
"What pisses me off is that you lied to me, and then ignored me when I called to talk about it." Ugh, I felt even worse because what he said was mostly true. He would have been mad but maybe not as much?
Maybe. It was too late to even think about it though. The fact was, I'd been a coward and an asshole.
My head hung. "I really am sorry, Son. I just wanted to help, and I realized too late how stupid it was."
Sonny paused and the silence felt suffocating. "Kid, I get that you'd do something stupid if you thought it'd help. Trust me, I'd do dumber shit than that for you but you know,you know, how much it pisses me off when you keep shit from me."
"I know." There was no way my voice sounded as pitiful and crappy as I felt. Because he was right. We'd been through this before.
"Yeah, I know you know," he answered back gruffly.
The urge to say sorry again was right on my tongue but it wouldn't come out. I knew my brother. I knew my brother enough to not be surprised he was mad at me for keeping things from him, and I was well aware of the fact that the word 'sorry' meant nothing to him. Actions spoke louder than words, he'd probably say.
