Once again, it’s a fucking hard feat.
Twenty-One
Dimitri
Icould never be accused of being tiny, especially when my chest is swollen with smugness, but I feel a couple of inches shorter when Maddox notices my entrance into the Warden’s office. The Walsh brothers don’t have the notoriety the Petrettis do, but they’re well known amongst the locals. Their mixed-race background makes them a little bulkier than their counterparts, and Maddox has taken it one step further by adding a good twenty pounds of muscle to his frame during his first stint in lock-up.
He has tatted up since the last time I saw him as well. His artwork almost looks as extensive as mine. If the quality of the work is anything to go by, he got a majority of them done outside of these walls, which is interesting considering he barely had a sleeve when he was arrested at Demi’s place of employment.
“If I knew it was you, I would have gotten dressed up for the occasion.” Don’t misconstrue his words. They were laced with so much sarcasm, they left a bad taste in my mouth, so I’d hate to experience what Maddox’s throat is going through. “What the fuck are you doing here, Dimitri?”
I take his brusque attitude in my stride. “I thought we were friends. Isn’t this what friends do? Visit the other while they’re locked up.”
He looks like he wants to spit at my feet.
The feeling is mutual.
“We ain’t friends.”
I smirk, grateful he walked straight into the trap I was setting. After pressing my palms on the Warden’s desk, I peer him dead-set in the eyes. “That’s right. We’re not. You just used my contacts to line your pockets with money, and then you wonder why we’re not friends.”
He’s got nothing. Not a single fucking thing.
“Sit down, Maddox, and for once in your fucking life, listen. If you had done that from the get-go, you wouldn’t be here.”
His sneer would make most men shake in their boots. It doesn’t cut the mustard with me. I was raised by a man who thought a fire stoke was a tool to keep his children in line. The hotter it was, the harder he struck me with it.
Don’t feel sorry for me. My father’s ways ensured I don’t feel pain. As you can imagine, the ability made me a coldhearted man. I’m not worried. Love and hate are on par when it comes to emotions. Both take everything you have and give nothing in return.
I’m hopeful my thoughts will change when I meet my daughter in the flesh for the first time, but it’s hard to change the views of a skeptic. Audrey attempted to chip at the decay. She barely made an indent. Roxanne, on the other hand, had me acting as if I had a heart in my chest. I would have taken a thirty-million-dollar hit for her—I still would.
My thoughts snap back to the present when Maddox’s chuckles ring through my ears. “He was right. You’re so fucking gone.”
He doesn’t need to spell out the name of the man he’s referencing for me to understand our conversation is no longer between us.
Maddox refers to everyone by name—except my father.
“I’m gone? Ha! I’m not the one in cahoots with the man who marked up my sister with a mangy mutt.” That shuts up his chuckles in an instant. Fucking good as I was tempted to use my fists. “What did he tell you, Ox? That I ordered for her to be punished?”
His silence is extremely telling. It isn’t just my father whispering in his ear, it’s someone he’d pay careful attention to.
Confident I know which way to take our conversation, I ask, “What’s he got on her?”
He blows off the concern in my voice as if it’s fake before he takes a seat as requested earlier.
“If my father has a noose around Demi’s throat, I can help.”
Maddox slants his head to make sure his glare has the effect he’s aiming for. “Like you did Justine?”
I growl, baring teeth. “She’s alive, isn’t she?”
He slams his fist down on the desk separating us. “And crying every week on the phone. You fucked her over good, D. I don’t know if she’ll ever come back from this.”
His words are a kick to the gut, but they push our conversation in the direction I need it to go. “So, you’re gonna let him do the same to Demi?” When he scoffs, I hit him with straight-up facts. “You kept my daughter’s existence a secret. You didn’t do that for no reason, Ox. I’m here to find out why, and I ain’t leaving until I do.”
His tongue peeks between his teeth when I roll back the Warden’s chair, take a seat, then hook my boots onto his desk. This is the first time in my life I wish I had trod in dog shit. I’d loved nothing more than to see the Warden’s face when he rocked up to his office to find a big, dirty piece of shit on his spotless desk.
With Maddox as stubborn as me, our conversation soon hits a stalemate. This kills me to admit, but I have to break the silence. I don’t have time to sit around and twiddle my thumbs. I’m juggling balls, many of them. If I don’t want them to fall, I need to move our exchange along.
