Page 33 of Jonny’s Redemption

Part owner in Gemini Group.

Fuck, he wanted that.

He could do the job he was born to do and not be bogged down with red tape. No more Cassie Hampton calling in only to go back to her abusive husband and get the shit kicked out of her only to start the fucked-up merry-go-round all over again. No more having to beg and plead with the State’s Attorney to do his job and prosecute the criminals Jonny arrested. He could follow the leads and trust his gut. He could have a team of men at his back. No, not a team—friends. Men he trusted. And then there was McKenna, Nixon’s wife. The woman was brilliant with a computer, most of which Jonny had had to turn a blind eye to when he was a cop. The work McKenna did wasn’t legal but no one could argue with the outcome. At the end of the day, she’d saved lives because of her skills.

So Jonny made another decision—this one far easier than the one he’d have to carry out when he got to his mother’s house.

“Call Sagle. Tell him to get started on the operating agreement.”

“Good choice.” Nix smiled.

“I appreciate—”

“Don’t say it, Jonny. Don’t tell me you appreciate it when we both know it’s not needed.”

“It is needed. And I’m not just talking about the job. I appreciate you always having my back even when I didn’t have yours.”

“The way I see it, Jonny, you’ve always had my back. When we were growing up and when all that shit went down with my wife, you also had hers. I’d say I owe you for that, but you’d twist it up into some bullshit about me wanting you at Gemini Group as some sort of repayment instead of you acknowledging you were a damn good cop. But more than that, you’re smart and your instincts are spot-on. I think you’ll find without all those pesky laws holding you back you’ll actually get to do what you’ve always wanted. Protection, stripped down to the purest sense of the word.”

It was safe to say Nixon Swagger knew Jonny.

“I’ll be in at eight.”

“I’ll have keys ready for you. Now get back to your woman. And if you need help with your mom call me.”

Another punch to the gut. That simple; call if he needed help.

Jonny stood in the reception area and looked around, letting Nixon’s offer wash over him. He was going to need help, there was no doubt about it. And when the time came, he’d call Nixon.

“Will do.”

“One more thing, Jonny. When you’re ready, I hope you tell me that long, fucked-up story. Not because I need you to give it, but because, brother, you’ve been living under a cloud since you were ten years old and it’s way past time you get that shit off your chest. It was time when Doug was fucking up in high school and bore the brunt of that. It was time when he fucked over his wife and kids. I think sometimes you fail to remember he did those things, not you. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know but Doug was an asshole. He was one when we were kids and he grew into an even bigger one.”

It was on the tip of Jonny’s tongue to defend his brother. Years of conditioning to make excuses, to lie and brush it under the rug. A hard habit to break but one Jonny was determined to free himself from.

“He was more of a motherfucker than you can imagine. A story I should’ve told you a long time ago. A story that Macy and Alec need to hear. It's time to come clean about everything.”

Nixon nodded but said no more.

Jonny walked out of the office, jogged down the stairs, and made it to his truck. All the while hatred suffused his body. Calvin and Doug were still fucking Jonny from the grave.

12

Jonny was going to freak.

It was a good thing he’d taken off to cool down because if he’d been the one to walk into the mess that was his mother’s house he would’ve lost his ever-loving mind.

The drive back to Mrs. Spencer’s was awkward at best. The woman looked older than she had the last time I saw her but her demeanor was childlike. She looked properly chastised and was silent after Vaughn had explained that I was there to pick her up. She hadn’t asked where Jonny had gone even though I knew she saw him at the station. When we’d arrived at the house, she’d sheepishly argued I didn’t need to wait with her for Jonny’s return. However, albeit reluctantly, she’d let me in.

And that was when I saw it.

The real reason she didn’t want me in her house. I was a virtual stranger so I understood her not wanting me to see the state of her house. But, seriously, the woman should’ve been more concerned with how Jonny was going to react.

It was abundantly clear Mrs. Spencer had a drinking problem. It could also be undisputed she couldn’t be left on her own while her son was out of town. I wasn’t sure if she’d even taken out the garbage in the last month. If the smell was anything to go by, she hadn’t. Dishes were piled in the sink, though not as bad as it could’ve been which meant she probably hadn’t eaten a whole lot. But what she lacked in plates and forks in the sink, she made up for in empty wine, vodka bottles, and glasses.

I started with the empties—Jonny didn’t need to see the evidence of his mother’s problem. After I’d gathered all the bottles and found the trash bags, I filled two. Yes, two trash bags full of empty alcohol bottles. Not a drop left in any of them. When I was done with that, I placed them by the back door because Mrs. Spencer hadn’t put her outside cans at the curb to be picked up by the garbage truck, therefore I had to shove the kitchen trash in the last of the space left in the cans. After that, I tackled cleaning the kitchen.

The house smelled atrocious and I feared it was from more than the overflowing trashcan. It reeked of vomit. I’d searched the common rooms and couldn’t find the source but I’d yet to get into Mrs. Spencer’s room. As soon as we’d walked in, she promptly hightailed into the master bedroom and shut the door. I’d been there a hot minute and had all the windows open but the stench was not dissipating. I bleached the kitchen and the unpleasantness of puke mingled with Clorox.