Page 20 of No Lies No Promises

Sean tucks me to his side. “Sorry. Busy. Family time. Besides, it’s her place.”

I want Roger gone, too, but not until we question him. An insider, he might have intel we can use.

“Babe?” I wait for his eyes to shift to mine before continuing. “Maybe we should hear him out? Parkhaven? Pearson?”

Mouth grim, Sean frowns for a couple of seconds. “Fine. But not inside.”

His gaze narrows at his red-faced father. “What do you want?”

“Simple. You need to step away from your investigation.”

The younger of the two lowers his voice to a menacing whisper. “I don’t need to do anything.”

“You’re using my name!” Roger shouts. “My business as a cover. If I say it’s over, it’s over.”

“Not happening.” Sean meets his adversary’s steely stare, jaw ticking. “One phone call and your house of cards comes crashing down.”

Roger pauses, pulls out a pressed handkerchief, then wipes his sweaty brow. “Tell you what, kid. You can use my name if you let me in on the scam.”

Jesus, what a douchebag.

“No. The deal stands.”

Oh. Oh. Sean’s fists clench at his sides.

Thank God, before the two can exchange punches, the elevator pings.

The three of us turn as Ruthie waddles toward us, waving her wooden spoon. “What the hell is going on?”

Sean softens his tone, uncurling his fingers. “Nothing. Dad was just leaving.”

Beady eyes narrowing, Roger scowls. “I will, as soon as you tell me who is funding your investigation. I’ll even let you continue to use my name.”

“No problem. The firm’s called Nunya,” His son smirks.

Biting back a smile, I roll my eyes at Becks, but she’s no help. I know that look. Her eyes water as she tries to hold back giggles.

The urge to laugh grows worse when Roger says, “Never heard of them. Who’s Nunya?”

“Nunya fucking business.” Sean’s chuckle is all that’s needed for me and my sister to let loose.

The joke is stupid. It’s inane. And yet, it’s perfect. As Grams adds her cackles, her grandson points to the stairs. “Leave, Dad. This time, I’m not asking.”

The idiot who can’t follow directions has the nerve to undress my sister with his gaze. “What’s this?” His eyes focus on my breasts. “You fucking twins now?”

Break his nose or kick him in the balls? Before I can decide, Sean tucks me under his arm, whispering, “Down, sweetheart. He’s not worth it.”

Louder, he says to his father, “I want you to meet my fiancée, Lillian Fisher Boyle, MMA champion.”

He scoffs, staring at my left hand. “What? He too cheap to buy you a ring?”

This time, my knee will crunch nuts.

Sensing my intent, Sean grabs Roger by the tie, drags him in front of the elevator, then presses the down button. When the doors open, he shoves him inside.

The jerk thrusts out his arm, stopping the doors from closing. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot. I’ve already called a lawyer. Your crazy grandmother is going to an old age home.”

Sean shoots him the finger. “Go ahead and try.”