Page 32 of Love At Peace

“Get him a drink,” I told the bartender. “On me.”

Jerry grinned, ordered something top shelf as he sat.

“Did you rent out a place to my niece?”

He sipped his drink, not facing me. “I’m not sure I ever had the pleasure of meeting her.”

“Don’t fuck with me,” I warned him.

“Nevaeh has stayed in a couple of my places from time to time.”

“Which ones? When?”

He huffed. “I don’t have to tell you shit. That’s confidential information between me and her.” He shot me a side eye. “What, you wanna stalk her or some shit?”

“I’m her uncle, you asswipe. Why the hell would I stalk her?” I turned so he could be bothered by my direct stare. “And if she’s knocked up, I want to know if she’s going to be a homeless mom. A baby deserves better than that.” For too long, I convinced myself that Nevaeh wasn’t in control of the shitty state of her life. That it wasn’t her choice to have been born into the family she had, with my brother and sister-in-law. She hadn’t chosen her parents. But she did choose to do what she did after they were gone.

He rolled his eyes. “If you’re that worried about her, then let her crash at your place.” He snickered. “Oh, wait. Then again, you don’t got a place to call your own either. I heard you were house hunting.”

“Is Nevaeh currently renting one of your properties?” I asked, not taking the bait to get riled up by this weasel.

“If she is, that’s not your business.”

“Which one?” I asked. “Where is she staying? At the apartment next to the one David’s got?”

“David moved out. He only stayed temporarily.”

“For how long? When did he move out?” I asked.

“Listen to yourself,” he taunted. “You ain’t the fucking police. I don’t have to tell you shit.”

I was two seconds from grabbing him and strangling him. “Then get ready for Marty to ask, you piece of shit. Eric was found wounded at your apartment building.”

He shrugged. “News to me.”

News you don’t care about.

Gavin walked in, raising his brows at me and Jerry at the bar. “Everything all right here?”

“Yep. Now it is. Come manage your nosy friend,” Jerry said with a jerk of his chin at me as he spun on the stool, giving me his back.

I shook my head, getting up and leaving with Gavin before I did punch that weasel.

“Did he tell you anything?” he asked.

“No. No one does. No one tells me shit.”

He did though. On the ride back to the cabin I was staying at, he gave me a summary of Eric’s injuries, courtesy of an old friend who was a nurse at the hospital. I doubted that they were upholding confidentiality laws, but I was glad to hear Eric would have a full recovery.

“He can’t remember how he got there or anything about how he got hurt?” I asked when he parked at my place.

“No. I guess it’ll come back to him. But as of right now, it’s a big, old question mark.”

Shaking my head, I got out of his truck but didn’t close the door. “What a clusterfuck, man.”

“You can say that again. I’m glad that he’s all right. And not hurt any worse than he is. Marty’ll go after David if he’s at fault for this. He’ll pay for what he’s done.”

I could agree with that, but only to an extent. Marty could go after David for what happened to Eric, but what about all the terrible things he had to have done to Heather to make her so skittish and scared? What about justice for her?