Chapter Four
West
No one’s said a word, but I feel the guys’ eyes on me. Like they’re tiptoeing around the elephant in the room.
We’re taking advantage of Ricky’s private bar again, far removed from the music and dancing going on a couple floors down. It feels like we’re in our own world up here. I needed to get out and clear my head, and this was the first place I thought of.
“All right. Talk to me, Rich Boy,” Ricky finally says, breaking the silence. “We all saw the post, we’re all up to speed, so the only thing we need to know is how you and Blue are doing with everything.”
Staring at the bottle of water in my hands, I shift on the leather barstool, imagining myself taking a sip of something stronger, feeling the welcomed sting of it spilling down my throat.
“We’re dealing with it.”
At first, I think that answer will fly, but that belief is short-lived.
“That’s not what I asked you.”
Moving only my eyes, I peer up at Ricky where he stands on the other side of the bar. He doesn’t miss that I’m avoiding the question, because I’m not sure I’m ready to unpack the emotions I’ve carefully hidden away.
Blue’s raw, I’m raw, and the last thing our relationship or this situation needs is for me to lose my shit. And if I start talking about everything, that will very likely be the way this goes. However, as both my brothers glare from either side of me, and Ricky hasn’t blinked in the last thirty seconds, I think it’s safe to say I won’t be leaving here without letting it out.
My chest rises and falls with a deep breath, then I just… unload.
“I’m at my fucking breaking point. Witheverything.It feels like shit’s just gotten impossibly hard lately, like everything’s a damn struggle, and I fuckinghateit.”
Football.
Marriage.
Keeping Pandora out of my damn business.
Everything.
“What can we do?”
That question leaves Ricky’s mouth so smoothly, I’m reminded of the life he lived before he settled into being legit. There wasn’t much he couldn’t get done back then, either. Only, most of the time, the end result was some unsuspecting family planning their loved one’s funeral.
The question hits me again, and I blurt out the first answer I can think of. “If we could shut Pandora down again, that’d be a nice fucking start.”
Ricky nods. “Might be easier said than done, but we’ve done it before, so let’s give it a shot.”
“Hell, it’d do usalla favor if she were out of the picture,” Sterling chimes in, and if the dark circles under his eyes are any indication, I’d say he had a rough couple days, too. Although, Pandora isn’t the source of his stress this time.
It’s Tiffany.
“But do we really think Shawna would be stupid enough to fire up the accounts again? I thought we were all thinking it’s someone new.”
Ricky shrugs at Dane. “Well, I suppose we won’t have an answer to that question until we ask it.” With that, he sips his drink, then shoots a look toward the door. “Diego. Tag. Mind coming in here for a minute?”
Half a second later, his muscle enters the room, and they stand before him like they’re the damn Royal Guard—loyal, dutiful, awaiting Ricky’s command.
“Diego, any chance you can track down Shawna for us? Or do you think she’s in the wind?”
“No need to track her down, boss. Can’t lose track of what never left your sight.”
A wide grin spreads across Ricky’s face, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look more proud. “That’s the shit I’m talking about.”
Diego barely smirks. “I’ll text you her address.”
