My chest shook as I knelt at his side, in the mud, not blinking.
“If it makes you feel better,” Drew said as he squatted next to me, “he tried to offer up his girlfriend to me to work off his debt.”
The thirty-two-year-old man on the ground laid with his eyes half-open.
“I mean,” Drew went on, “I’ll still fuck her, of course, but—”
I howled, lunging for Drew and digging my fingers into his throat as I squeezed. “You piece of shit!” I cried, bringing my fist down on his face like a hammer. “You lousy, fucking piece of shit.” I got in his face. “I hate you!”
Tears quaked in my vision, and I pinned him to the ground. A smile curled his mouth even as I choked him.
His guys grabbed me, dragging me off.
But grief overcame the anger—the pain, regret, and fear—and everything bubbled up from my stomach. I vomited on the bank of the pond.
No, no, no, no, no, no…
Heaving once, then twice, I emptied my body, wishing I could die.
Or just wake up.
Please let me wake up.
I sobbed quietly, the life I had ten minutes ago a dream compared to what I willingly walked into in just as short of a time. I shook my head.
“I thought for sure you’d be the one to jump ship first,” Drew mused, standing up and dusting himself off. “All your daddies are fine, upstanding civil servants—I was certain you’d be the one with overwhelming character.”
Daddies.
Madoc, Jared, Jax… My father. Why didn’t I know better?
“But you weren’t.” I heard his lighter snap shut as he lit a cigarette. “It was Lance who had the character. You knew something was wrong, but unless you have the guts to walk away, what does it matter?”
I squeezed my eyes shut against the shame. Why didn’t I leave with Lance?
“You like Green Street,” Drew told me. “More than you know you should. When I picked the two of you, I never thought you’d be the last one standing.”
I wiped my mouth on the sleeve of my suit coat.
“Thanks for buying the building.” His voice held back glee. “Luckily, Lance was stupid enough to believe it was his idea.”
My heart sank, realization dawning. Fuck…
“I wish it would’ve worked out, though,” he told me. “It would’ve made everything easier. The women like you.”
“My mom thinks he’s a good role model,” his guy, McCann, joked.
I stared at David Miller—a thug, an addict, and a burden on everyone around him. But he liked the smell of a good fire, and collected old radios, and tomorrow he could’ve woken up and made himself into a person he liked. He didn’t deserve this.
“Hewasa good role model,” Drew replied to McCann. “Until he murdered Miller.”
I ball my fists.
“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” his other lackey, Carlo Shield, mimicked.
Followed by the third, Luccson. “We tried to stop you.”
They just fucking played along with the new story as the walls closed in.
