"I can see that." My eyes sweep over the two men behind him. I give a small nod. "What's going on?"
"Some shit went down, and now we're being offered another job," Dad says, calm as ever. "Sit down, Mijo."
"Dad, I have to get ready for work."
"You're not working tonight."
Fuck.
The words hit hard, because I already know what that means. I told Olivia I'd spend tonight with her. Told her I'd make it right after disappearing on her for weeks. I was already carrying that guilt. Now I've got to add another lie to it.
"Yes, sir," I say, because there's nothing else to say. "I'll go let them know."
I turn before anyone can see too much on my face and head to my room. My phone is lying face down on the bed. I pick it up and flip it over.
Olivia has already texted me.
I'm looking forward to tonight!
Damn it.
I stare at the screen a little too long. This is exactly why this can never be more than it already is. She doesn't deserve this part of me. She doesn't deserve the lies, the missed chances, the half-truths I keep handing her like they're harmless.
She'll never understand it. And if she does, she'll hate me for it.
If she even forgives me.
My thumbs move anyway.
I was looking forward to it too. Unfortunately, my car just took a shit, so my dad and I are taking it to his buddy's house. I'll send you money for an Uber? I'm sorry. Can we rain check tonight?
The lie is so smooth it scares me a little. My car had been in and out of the shop for weeks, but I got it back last week. She should believe it.
Three dots appear.
Disappear.
Appear again.
Then a thumbs-up emoji.
That's it.
She's pissed. And she has every right to be.
I send the host and my boss the same excuse, tell them I'll make up the hours, then head to the kitchen and grab a few cold beers from the fridge.
I crack one open before walking into the living room and offering the others out. Then I take a long swig and let the burn settle in my chest.
Fuck. It's going to be a long night.
Normally, when the big bosses give us a job, it's all business. Small debrief. Minimal details. They hand over a bag, give us a timeline, tell us what needs to happen, and we talk money before anything else gets touched.
This time feels different.
The two men give a longer debrief than I've ever heard before, explaining that this job came straight from the big boss himself. It's personal. And even though it has to do with drugs, we won't be moving anything.
That's when it hits me.
