Keeping my chin braced on my chest, I pay the high entrance fee before slipping into the main floor area of the club. My face isn't famously well-known around these parts like Isaac’s, but it is known enough I have the possibility of being spotted.Most likely by criminals, but detected nonetheless.
I guess that’s why Damon chose this location? Corrupt men are less likely to confront their own in their territory. If it weren't for the pull I've amassed the past six years, Damon's extensive list of criminal activities would be higher than it currently sits. He took my word of protecting him from my father's murder and twisted it in a completely fucked up way. He didn't just expect me to take the fall for our father's demise, he anticipated I'd handle every misguided thing he does.
I have news for him. Just like my search for a pretty blonde with green eyes ended years ago, so did my offer of the safety net I’ve been using to catch him the past ten years.
I swore to protect him on the promise he wouldn't become our father. He lied, so there is no need for me to continue my side of our agreement anymore. I've done everything I can: extensive rehab, drug counseling; I even set him up with an apartment in town when he rocked up eight years ago. What did I get for my efforts? Lies, lies, and more lies.
Damon has gone so far down the rabbit hole, I honestly don’t know if he can still lie straight in bed. With every request for money came a dishonest pledge. I caught on to his games years ago. My mom is still learning.
You’d think she’d be more clued into the games abusers play after handling my father’s antics for twenty years, but she is none the wiser. Instead of her life improving when my dad passed away, the baton of burden shifted to Damon. She will go without groceries for a week to ensure Damon’s drug habit is maintained. It is a vicious, demoralizing cycle that has no end in sight.
I love my brother, but I hate the man he has become.
Spotting Damon and Brax in a far corner booth, I increase my pace. Although appreciative of the many flirty smiles I'm getting from the staff at Vipers, I'm not so desperate for female company I'm willing to part with my hard-earned money to achieve it. My detective salary certainly is a step up from the rookie income I lived off when I joined the force a decade ago, but it will never be high enough for me to drop coins on something I can get for free.
As long as she doesn't have honey hair, green eyes, and a lack of self-respect, I'm open to the prospect. But if there’s any requirement involving money, I'm not interested. Not in the slightest. Never going to happen. Nada.
When I reach my brother, I hold my hand out in offering. “Damon.”
He accepts my offer, although hesitantly.
"It's been eight years, man, time to let bygones be bygones," Brax mutters into my ear, greeting me in a friendlier nature than the one I issued my brother.
I wasn’t shocked when Brax called to say he received an invitation from Damon. Damon might be a liar and a cheat, but he’s also smart. He knew Brax was the perfect buffer. He is the equivalent of our brother without the blood or the official title.
Brax did everything in his power to get Damon on the straight and narrow ten years ago. He went out on a limb for him, but because he was only working with half-truths, he didn’t fully comprehend the mammoth task he was undertaking.
As far as anyone in this town is concerned, my mother killed my father—even Brax believes this. When my mother returned from the rehabilitation home where she resided for nearly two years, she wasn’t shamed, ridiculed, or spoken down to. She was seen as a matriarch of the domestic violence community, which is distressing considering her current predicament.
My mom has grown a lot the past ten years, but she still isn’t half the woman she could be. No matter how much light I shine on her, she will always find a shadow. It is who she is. Nothing can change this.
Brax slaps my back three times, drawing my focus to the present.
“You know why he picked here to meet, don’t you?” I ask, pulling back from his man hug.
Brax quirks a brow. “Yeah, I know. But there is nothing wrong with an off-duty detective spending his weekend looking at some fine ladies.”
He gestures for me to slide into the booth before him, understanding my objective to remain inconspicuous. If anyone here remembers my dad, I’ll be pinned as corrupt in less than a nanosecond. I worked my ass off for years to have the mud removed from my family name. I won’t let anything taint it.
* * *
Forty minutes pass in silence, adding to my agitation. Damon has had two lap dances since I arrived, but I’ve failed to see him remove his wallet. I’m not a regular at these types of establishments, but don’t businesses demand payment prior to service? You don’t watch a movie before paying for the ticket, so how can you secure a stripper without proving you have the means to pay the tab?
I chuckle under my breath.Is Damon the problem or me?Perhaps I've disconnected so far from society I'm not seeing things the way they are anymore. I do work—tirelessly.Maybe I am out of the loop?
I can't remember the last time I went out. I'm reasonably sure it was a year ago when I succumbed to Regina's suggestion of letting her set me up with someone she knew.
After seeing Izzy for the first time, I wish I had surrendered to Regina’s nagging years earlier. Without hesitation, I can testify that Izzy is gorgeous. Big chocolate eyes, dark temperamental locks, and the personality of a girl who should be a whole lot uglier. For the first time in years, my interests were piqued. It is a pity she is Isaac’s girl.
Izzy did a stellar job pretending she was unaffected by Isaac's domineering personality, but within minutes of watching them interacting with one another, her ruse came undone. I wouldn't necessarily say Izzy was under a spell, but Isaac's prompts reminded me a lot of a guy I once knew: my young, stupid self.
For the years following Ophelia’s death, Isaac was a ghost. I didn’t hear or see him in years. When Ravenshoe boomed, his presence became more known. Within months, the shadow swamping him vanished, and our mutual interest in a pretty brunette at one of his clubs resurrected our natural competitive nature.
That is why I kissed Izzy.
I shouldn’t have, but the competitive edge Isaac always instigates from me was rearing its ugly head that night. I wanted to show him the expense of a suit has nothing on the man wearing it. Did I go in strong? Yeah, I did. Did he react how I expected him to? Yeah, he did. Do I regret it? No, not at all. Why? Because the words he spoke when he returned to pick up his date have stayed with me since then.
“I once asked if you could fight. You said, ‘You don’t need talent to fight. Anyone can take a hit; it is how you accept it that proves your worth.’ I never understood what that meant. . . until now. I’ll accept your hit like a man, Ryan, but you need to accept mine in return.”
