Quinn
I hover outside my father’s office, listening with Lucas at my back.
“It’s not our fault!” Madoc shouts.
“It isabsolutelyyour fault!”
I wince, my dad’s voice more of a growl than a bellow. Lucas holds my shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the back of my neck.
My parents got home late last night, and when they found out everything they’d missed, they wouldn’t even listen to me. My brothers were summoned. Jared, Madoc, and Jax haven’t been in there more than sixty seconds, and there’s already shouting. I can just picture them lined up in front of my father’s desk like they’re back in high school facing the principal.
I don’t hear my mother at all. Usually, she can shorten my dad’s leash, but if she doesn’t, then she must agree with him.
“I have raised her for twenty-one years without incident!” my dad screams. “I leave her with you three for aweek, and she moves out, jumps into bed with an older man, and almost gets herself killed!”
I half roll my eyes. He’s just as bad as my brothers. As if he wasn’t an older man, seducing my mother when she was younger than me.
He keeps railing, my brothers not saying a word, and I turn my head, lifting my eyes to the only man I’ve ever wanted. As if they couldn’t see this coming my entire life.
“He’ll come around,” I say.
My dad is like him. And like my siblings. He tends to react before he reasons.
“I’ll speak to him tonight.” Lucas dips his nose to my hair. “I need to talk to Farrow first.”
He takes my hand and leads me through the kitchen where Juliet, Hunter, and A.J. make breakfast, and out of the house, around the back. Everyone showed up here this morning to get all the news and the full story from Lucas, but he’s avoided talking to anyone until he can see my father. Farrow stands just inside my father’s second garage, checking out his boat.
Lucas reaches into his breast pocket and hands Farrow documents in a trifold—the deed to Green Street, I assume.
Farrow lifts the corners of his mouth, looking pleased, but he doesn’t smile, and he doesn’t say thank you for a free building.
Instead, he holds out his hand, asking, “Your key?”
I shift my eyes to Lucas.
He simply cocks his head. “If you feel it necessary to keep me out, change the locks.”
I smile to myself, but I’m not sure why. Not reading the documents shows that Farrow trusts Lucas, but by Lucas still requesting access shows that Lucas doesn’t trust him. Not completely. I guess I like that he feels a responsibility tokeep an eye on Farrow, and not because he doesn’t like him, but because he does.
Serving in Weston’s city government is a commitment to serve the citizens, and Farrow knows as well as Lucas does that Green Street serves itself first. They’re not in this together. Not one hundred percent.
Farrow sticks the deed into the back pocket of his jeans. “If you keep a key, then you’re complicit in what happens there.”
“I don’t plan on being complicit in anything,” my man responds. “No drugs, no arms, no prostitution.”
Farrow laughs, but he doesn’t look amused. “Does that include weed?” he retorts.
Marijuana is legal in this state, but Farrow isn’t seriously asking. Selling weed won’t make them the income they’re used to making.
“How the fuck do you expect us to make money?” he barks.
“I have some ideas,” Lucas replies calmly, as if he expected the pushback. “But ultimately, it can be anything you won’t be ashamed to tell Fallon about.”
What? I glance between them.
Why would Farrow have to explain anything to Fallon, of all people?
“Let’s meet at Breaker’s at seven.” Lucas offers Farrow his hand. “We have things to discuss.”
