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HENDRICK
The conversation is opened, the plan set in place. The US attorney general will be coming to the office in the morning to sign what needs to be signed. It is wrapped up in a tidy bow, and it’s exactly how my father likes things. I don’t blame him. Nobody is dead. We hold the power and control. And it is all done.
When Josiah and Prisma walk into the room, Shelby appears as if she’s going to be sick. As she fucking should. Her gaze flicks to them, and I watch as a horror-filled expression crosses her face.
She is fucked.
And I do not care.
As I turn my back to her, I hear her call out to Coleman, but he is right beside me. His steps don’t even falter. We leave the building, leaving all that shit behind us. When we stop at the car, I tug on the handle but don’t sink down into the seat.
“What?” Dad asks.
My eyes find his, and I dip my chin. “A weight has been lifted,” I say.
He dips his chin, too, then we climb into the car, but we don’t head to his place. I don’t mind it. I’m not ready to go back there yet. “We’re going out for a drink,” Dad mutters.
I’m glad for that.
I need at least one, maybe three to get my nerves back to where they fucking should be. My blood pressure has got to be through the goddamn roof at this point. It doesn’t take us long to get there. The bar comes into view, and I let out a sigh of relief, practically tasting the amber liquid that is going to hit my tongue, then burn my throat.
Together, the four of us make our way into the bar, toward the back, and sink down into the chairs. The waiter doesn’t even have to ask for our orders. Reading our mood, he brings us a bottle of whiskey and four glasses, then turns around and leaves us alone.
One shot turns to two, then three before Coleman speaks. He inhales a deep breath and lifts his hand to the back of his neck and massages it. He’s worried about something, likely feeling guilty about leaving his sister-in-law with Josiah and Prisma.
“I feel guilty,” he announces. “Not because she didn’t deserve whatever is coming to her, but because she is my sister-in-law, and she’s young.”
I pour myself another shot. “She didn’t give a fuck about what she was doing to any of those women, to my wife,” I state. “She’s old enough to make some fucking decisions and lie in the goddamn bed of shit she made.”
“Hear, hear,” Wells announces, pouring himself another shot.
We aren’t going to be able to walk out of this goddamn bar tonight, and right now, I’m not sure I give much of a fuck. Carry me out of here and carry me home. So we continue to drink.
And talk.
We all tell Coleman to stop being stressed out. Shelby asked for all that shit. Begged for it, really. She knew exactly what the family was capable of and what would happen if she tried to fuck us over, yet she did it anyway. She got cocky. She thought she was above shit, but she wasn’t—isn’t.
“Is the family safe now?” I ask.
I can hear my words slur, and I almost laugh, but I don’t think I can make my muscles do that. Pressing my lips together, I try to roll them but give up and just pour myself another shot, downing it before I even think about it.
“The family was always safe, but yes. For now, it seems as though we’ve cleaned house both inside and out,” Dad mutters.
“I fucking hate the fact that any of these things happened inside,” Coleman slurs.
His words come out slowly, and his body sways as it does. I almost laugh at him, but I think he might be in better shape than I am at this point, so I don’t.
“I hate what we had to do to Uncle Dean and Cousin Samson,” Wells says.
“To the ones who fucked us over and lost their lives,” Dad calls out.
We pour another shot, then another. Dad leans over the table, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m going to have to call your mother to pick us up. There is no way I can drive.”
He can’t. I don’t even know if any of us can walk at this point, so it’s good he doesn’t even want to attempt driving. I watch as he fumbles around with his phone, and then I burst into laughter, my brothers joining me.
About thirty minutes later, my mother, Parker, Claire, and my beautiful bride make their way into the bar, their eyes wide as they approach our table. I don’t know if they’re mad or not. I’m laughing too hard to care.
ALLISON
