A flutter hits my stomach, unpleasant, nauseating. It’s not a secret but there’s no reason for this man to know my brother’s name. “Ant’s doing well.”
“Do you think Maddox will continue to pay for his medical treatment when he finds out he’s not just a user, he’s a dealer?”
The flutter in my abdomen turns sharp, pain radiating out until I rub my hand to get it to settle. “As I said, we only met recently. You’d have a far better idea of how your son would react.”
“Take a guess.”
In a second, I’m back in the industrial building, flames crackling in another room, the greasy taste of the gun barrel in my mouth. “I’m sure once I explained the circumstances—”
“What about when he discovers Ant’s the one who supplied my daughter?” The pain is back again, sharper. “Do you think he’ll still pay your bills knowing Ant sold her the drugs she overdosed on?”
My mouth goes slack, the pain intensifying.
I know Ant started dealing when my father needed a supply of drugs to kill his pain, after the doctors stopped prescribing. He dealt and somewhere along the line he got hooked. His judgement went sideways.
A bright kid, adapting to the change in circumstances. Far too young to make decisions on any other basis. Only finding how steep the walls were when he wanted out.
But I doubt Maddox will see it that way and I understand. If Ant had died, I wouldn’t want excuses from his dealer.
I’d want revenge.
“You didn’t know.” He leans back in his chair, one arm behind his head, the other tapping restlessly on the arm. “Take your time to process it. I suppose it’s not every day you find out your brother’s a murderer.”
“He’s not—” But I break the sentence off so quickly I nearly bite through my tongue.
Blaine reaches into a drawer and pulls out a bundle of cash, crisp notes in a thick stack secured with a band of paper. “That’s twenty thousand. Get out of town and take your brother with you. Fuck off for good.”
Twenty thousand.
I can’t stop staring at it.
This is money he justhappenedto have in his desk drawer. My brain struggles with the unreality of the situation. Even at three nights a week, the most the club would allow, it would take me six months to clear that much. Probably longer.
If it was thirty, you could repay Maddox for Ant’s treatment. It might be the only apology this man allows.
And the word’s out of my mouth before I can think. “Thirty.”
“Excuse me?”
My throat muscles are clenched so tightly, I need to rub my knuckles over my windpipe before they release enough for me to continue talking. “Thirty and I can get…” But he doesn’t need to know what I’ll spend it on. “Thirty and it’s a deal.”
“And here I was, thinking it was true love.” His lips curl into a wide smirk.
“Thirty-five.”
“Fuck off.” He sweeps the money back into the drawer.
“Fine.” I stand and move behind my chair to push it back into place.
“Sit the fuck down.”
“I only sit for forty.” My arms tremble until I fold them to still the movement.
“You’re insane.” Blaine stands and comes around the desk, sitting on my side, one knee raised, his hands laying lightly atop it. “For that price, I can make a call and have you killed. You’re such an easy target, I’d probably get change.”
I clench my crossed arms even tighter. “Bullshit.” My eyes don’t want to lift but I make them, raising inch by inch until they lock with his cool, calm gaze. “Five minutes ago, you told me my brother killed your daughter. If you could wipe out your problems that easily, he’d be long dead.”
His jaw clenches, nostrils flaring. “You’re not as smart as you think you are, little girl.”
