Page 115 of York

This would just be the first of the many projects I had planned all across the United States.

“This is the one. I can feel it. Let’s try to lock it down.”

“You know,” Teddy said as we made our way back out of the building, “you still haven’t talked to me about any of the houses I found for you and your family.”

“I know. I’m having a hard time making that decision.”

We’d mostly been staying in the apartment York had rented out—one, cute, happy little family in enough space for us for the time being.

We had months left on the lease. Plenty of time to figure out what we were going to do next.

York and I had been batting around ideas for staying until the school year was up, then taking Denny on a cross-country road trip. We could buy a nice camper so she didn’t have to sleep outside. We could visit a bunch of the national parks, tourist attractions, and random towns that were always packed with things to do.

She was young, sure. But old enough, I felt, to remember a lot of the experiences. Or, at the very least, enjoy it in the moment.

And, yes, in doing so, I would get to reacquainted with a part of myself I’d needed to set aside to take care of a baby on my own.

“You might be putting too much pressure on it. You don’t have to commit to a house forever, you know. You can change your mind every year or five years if you want.”

“That’s true. But Denny has known so much instability in her life. I want there to be something constant for her.”

“I can understand that,” Teddy agreed as we made our way to his town car. “I will let the lawyers know your plan,” he said, since I decided to use his lawyers to keep things simple. “They should start mining for the minerals in the next three months. I very much doubt anyone will try to buy this before then.”

“I do have some money now, if they are being difficult.”

The rocks that had been taken out of Sonny’s truck (and the shed full of them on his property) equaled more than enough money to buy the building. But I was anxious about spending anything until I was sure things with the ranch would go as we planned.

“I think we can schmooze the owners into waiting.” By that he meant that he could. Because the name Theodore Kane, the Third, held a hell of a lot of weight in Florida.

“Thanks, Teddy. You’re the best.”

“It’s nothing.”

It was always “nothing,” when he did something for someone in the club. I understood he had a lot of history with Huck and the OG guys, but the generosity of his spirit truly had no bounds.

“I want to be like you when I grow up,” I told him with a smile.

He glanced back at the abandoned building, then at me again as he slid into his backseat.

“I think you already are.”

And on that smooth note, the driver closed the door.

Yeah, no. I’d never be that cool.

But I was okay with that.

I made my way to the car and drove back to the apartment, figuring I would get a few hours of cleaning done before I had to pick up Denny and take her to karate class. Self-defense classes were, it seemed, mandatory for the club kids. I was pretty sure they all did it. And, given the family business, I got that. As a woman who’d been relentlessly tracked and attacked, I wanted my daughter to be much more prepared for that sort of situation than I had been.

But the scent of lemon cleaner met my nose as soon as I opened the apartment door.

And there was… Spiro in my apartment.

“Jesus Christ,” I hissed, my hand flying to my heart.

“Welcome home, honey,” he greeted me, arms spread, wearing—I kid you not—elbow-high pink gloves and an apron.

“Spiro, what the hell are you doing in my apartment?”