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We got our drinks and ordered our food, both of us falling into the awkward silence I'd been dreading."
"Rush—"
"Here's the thing," he said at the same time as me, head whipping up, looking at me, giving me that guarded expression again.
"What's the thing? You're a big-time mafioso who has fed several people to the fishes," I teased, swirling the straw in my drink. "Oh, my God... are you?" I asked when his eyes looked almost, I don't know, guilty."
"No," he said, giving me a humorless laugh as he took a sip of his drink. "Okay, look. Since moving to Navesink Bank, a lot has changed in my life. Everything, really. But before we all landed here, my siblings and I, we didn't exactly do something legal for a living," he told me.
"Okay," I said, reminding myself that a lot of people did things that were technically illegal, but didn't hurt anyone per se. "What did you do?"
"We robbed places," he admitted.
"What?" I hissed, feeling like someone had ripped the rug out from underneath me.
"Yeah," he said, nodding at my reaction. "I know. That's a lot to take in."
"I don't think I understand," I told him, sure there was something I was missing, something he wasn't saying. I mean, sure, robbers existed, but you never saw them in real life, had dinner with them at a fancy restaurant.
"You want it all?" he asked. "The whole story," he clarified.
I did.
And he gave it to me.
About his mom, about her sickness, the company that didn't stand behind her, the debt she got into for her treatments before she decided to stop treatment, to let her sickness take its course because she couldn't afford to pay anymore.
She left behind five children. The boys: Kingston, Nixon, Atlas, and Rush. And their little sister Scotti.
And a lot of bitterness about the whole situation. Most of it was directed—understandably—at the company that wouldn't give her medical coverage, that decided she was better off replaced than alive.
In that situation, especially most of them being as young as they had been at the time, I understood how impulsive ideas came to them.
But it hadn't just been bitter words shared during a period of grief for them. It was a plan. A plot for revenge. That they actively worked toward in and out of different cities and states, stealing back what the company owed their mother.
It was hard to accept as reality.
But nothing about Rush as he spoke suggested he was yanking my chain, that he was trying to get a rise out of me.
When he spoke of his mother, there was pain in his eyes. Even when he talked about their work—for lack of a better term—the years following, there were traces of anger over the situation.
"It was wrong," he concluded. "But it wasn't at the same time," he said, shrugging. "I know that is a lot to take in," he said, leaning back against the tufted booth back, taking a slow, deep breath. "If you want me to take you home, let me know."
"I... I'm processing," I told him. "So, you were in Navesink Bank doing a, you know, job?"
"Yes."
"And that was when Scotti met Fiona's brother-in-law?"
"Yeah. Mark Mallick. That's when the plan changed."
"Fiona knows about all your... pasts?"
"Yeah."
"And Mark and Scotti..."
At that, he let out a hissing breath. "This might not be my place. But the Mallicks haven't exactly been on the up-and-up with the law either," he told me, hedging, and I understood why. That was privileged information, something the Mallicks likely didn't want shared around all willy nilly. "So, they didn't judge. They just took us in."
"And you went to work at Fee's place."
"Yes."
"And Kingston opened a private security agency," I said, feeling my lips curve up.
"The irony, right?" he asked, shaking his head. "Nixon and Atlas work for him occasionally too, but Nixon is off with Reagan and her whiskey business, which suits him a little better. He's such a dick. Clients hated him," Rush admitted, smiling fondly at some private memories.
"You didn't want to go into anything with, you know, cars?" I asked.
"I never had any interest in selling them or fixing them. Just driving them. And there's not a lot of jobs for that. So I just enjoy a good drive now and again. Helps clear the head. I'm planning a big road trip next summer, though, take off in a car and see the world. As much traveling as I have done, there was never much time for sightseeing."
"A road trip sounds like the perfect way to travel," I agreed. "You don't have to be packed into crowded trains or planes or buses or boats with a ton of other people. It sounds peaceful."
"Katie..."
"Yeah?" I asked, looking up, seeing a raw vulnerability in his gaze that made me want to reach out toward him, but he had his arms off the table.
