I give the girl in the chair a slow wink, mouth ‘stay alive,’ to her–knowing she has no control over this, but hoping it will tell her that I’ve got a plan–and then get my phone out of my pocket.
“I need a moment,” I tell Samantha, and, without waiting for an answer, I walk into the hallway and hit the first number on my call list.Moments later, I hear a familiar voice on the line.
“Brooks, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say smoothly.“And I need a favor.”
Lucien
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I snarl, already regretting having come to this meeting.I’m sitting in a cafe near my father’s favorite gambling den, brought here by yet another text from my father, and though I came here thinking it was a good chance to get some information out of my father–like whether he’s fucking working with Dominick Landry–I’m starting to rethink that.
He doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about anything other than me getting married.
And we’ve already covered that more times than I can count.
“I’m not, and it’s time you start taking this seriously,” he returns.
I stare at him for several moments as I try to rein my temper in.He’s got Corinne’s coloring, light brown hair and hazel eyes, and though you would think that’d make him look friendlier, you’d be wrong.My father has always looked like he’s hiding secrets, like he knows more than you do about things, and that hasn’t changed with age.My mother died when I was young, and though Gemini was nice enough to me when she was alive, the moment she died, that changed.He became cold and hard, as if he blamed me for her being gone, and immediately started treating me like I was nothing more than a tool to be utilized.
I’d responded by leaving the house as often as possible and making my own way through the city, complete with my own crews for the rackets we ran, and I never looked back.I’d stayed in his house until I was eighteen, partially for appearances.
Partially because I’d wanted to make sure he was taking care of my little sister.
Since I moved out, we have less to do with each other than ever, and I’ve been just fine with that.I help with the family business when it suits my purposes–usually it doesn’t–and live my own life as the Boudreaux heir who likes to do things differently than his father.I have my own gambling dens and weapons enterprises, and he...
Well, he does whatever he does, and generally I’m happy to be left out of it.
I do not like the idea of him trying to pull me back in, and I’ve just told him so, in no uncertain terms.
“I take this family very seriously, but I do not want to get married, and I do not want to take over the family business.I’m just happy with my own rackets,” I say, my jaw tight and my throat closing up with anger.Where the fuck does this man get off, coming in here and trying to tell me how to run my life?
Whether I should or shouldn’t get married?
And yes, I realize that I told him a few months ago that I’d consider getting married to further the family line and all that.
But I’ve reconsidered it, and decided against the idea.
Gemini’s hand snaps out, wraps around my wrist, and pins me to the table, and he leans in like he’s going to fucking kiss me, his eyes dangerously bright and his mouth twisted into a sneer.“And I’m telling you, boy, that the only way you’ll get to keep those rackets is to do what I fucking tell you to do.I want you settled down and tied to New Orleans.I need someone responsible in charge.Someone I can count on.I’m not getting any younger, and there are things I don’t want to do anymore.”
I yank my hand away from him, but I’m listening, now.
What in devils has him so nervous?
“I’m listening,” I say.“Speak, old man.”
A glimmer of triumph flashes across his face, but he’s smart enough to get rid of it before I can react.
“In case you haven’t noticed, things aren’t going smoothly down here.I’m hearing things I never thought I’d hear of men I thought I knew, and some of the things legitimate families are trying...”
He shakes his head as if he can’t understand how things got so out of control, and I fight to control my expression.
Because if he knows even half of what I know about what the families of New Orleans are doing, he’s understating the case by saying things aren’t going smoothly.
“Even worse,” he continues, “your sister is missing.I don’t know how long she’s been gone or who might have taken her–or if she just up and left–but I want her back, and I want it now.”
I nearly bite my tongue at that, because I wasn’t sure he’d even noticed that she was gone.Hell, I thought he might have had something to do with it.He looks actually pained at her absence, though, like he might be legitimately worried about his only daughter, and I wonder–not for the first time–what their relationship is like.
If I disappeared, I doubt he’d give it two thoughts.
