“You’ll what?” I yelled over him. “What the hell are you going to do, Aidan? Cut me out? Let me go? Go back to doing things the old way? How’s that working out for Pete?”
Pete was a guy who had run with Aidan for a while. Going in blind to rob someone hadn’t gone so well for him, and the homeowner ended up in the hospital. He was still in jail for breaking-and-entering, along with assault.
“You and I both know that your way was mediocre at best,” I snapped. “Yeah, you got some results here and there, but you sure as hell didn’t have the kind of result you have now.”
His jaw ticked in anger—anger incited by the fact that he knew I was right.
“My way gets results.”Yeah, I said it to rub it in.Fucking sue me. A target with a plan was better than winging it and hoping nothing bad happened. “If you want me to keep giving you names, you’ll back off. I’m not doing this bullshit with you. My life is my own. End of story.”
It wasn’t the end of the story. I knew that. He definitely knew that. It was all about how the hell he wanted to react. Either we were about to fight it out right here in my kitchen and break something, or he was going to threaten me and leave.
I took another long sip of beer and just waited, staring hard at him—silently daring him to make the next move.
“Don’t youeverfucking forget who broke into their house,” he growled. “If anyone hangs for this, it’ll be you.”
He was right. The day I went to help Aidan break in, Clifford was home. Clifford was always home. I refused to let Aidan hurt him, so I did the only thing I could think of: I had him wait outside while I robbed the Lowells for him. Other than himbeing in the general vicinity, there wasn’t a damn thing to tie Aidan to the robbery.
Young me was a fucking idiot.
“You done?” I asked, pretending to brush him off. I wasn’t in the mood to push his buttons any more than I had. I wanted to cling to the good feelings Harley had left me with. Those were the only things that mattered.
I watched a myriad of expressions play across my brother’s face and braced for the fallout. Honestly, anything I did could set him off. It just depended on the day.
“Don’t fuck this up,” Aidan snarled. “You’re going to throw it all away for a guy who left your pathetic ass once already. When are you going to get it through that stupid fucking head of yours that he doesn’t give a damn about you? No one does!”
“Not even you,” I cut in. It wasn’t a question. Just a fact—one I’d known for a long time.
“And yet I’ve done more for you than anyone else has,” he said, the rising anger in his voice making me stand a little taller in anticipation. “Stop thinking with your fucking dick, and do the right thing for once before you regret it.”
He stormed out, and I didn’t push it any further because he was right. Everyone left.Even Harley.Maybe I was a moron for hoping it’d be different this time.
CHAPTER 27
harley
MAV: Stop worrying, princess. Aidan’s gone. I’m fine.
That single text message eased my mind—sort of. I knew things would never be okay between Aidan and Maverick. And I was all too aware of how violent his brother could be. Those two combined stressed me out. I worried about him,probably more than I should’ve. I should’ve taken his lead and trusted that he was fine. Unfortunately, anxiety just didn’t work like that, especially when I was already worried about dealing with my own mother.
The front door opened as I climbed the steps upon arriving home. Clifford stood there, waiting to let me in.
“Your mother would like to see you,” he began, and his words made my heart sink. “She’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Of course, she does.” I sighed. Pausing in the entryway, I ran a hand through my damp hair. I could only imagine what I looked like—disheveled and carrying a torn shirt while wearing Maverick’s.Yeah, I was the pinnacle of poise and class.
“Would you like me to make breakfast, Sir?” he asked. “Perhaps something savory to chase her bitter commentary with?”
A loud laugh escaped me as he took me by surprise. The older man smiled at me—the kind meant to be reassuring and tension-breaking.
“Something small would be fine, Clifford,” I said, even though Maverick had given me a bowl of cereal. I hadn’t said a thing about it being stale, but I had picked at it because it didn’t taste good. The alcohol he snuck in his was probably the only reason why he could eat it. “Thank you.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I braced for the conversation I didn’t want to have as I walked through the house. My mother sat at the kitchen table with her morning tea and one slice of avocado toast.
“Good morning, Mother,” I greeted without an ounce of charm.Hell, I didn’t even mean it.My politeness was just for show at this point. We both knew she was about to raise hell over my choices.
She took her time closing and setting down her magazine while I just stood there, waiting for the backlash. Her gaze sweptme over head-to-toe with the heavy weight of her assessment, and my pulse spiked, pounding violently in my neck.
“Is there a reason my son looks like a disgruntled heathen?” she demanded.
