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“No.”
“Then what did he say?”
“He gave me a number.”
A number? That means hope, and the beacon flares scorching hot in my chest. “How much?”
This time Leo does get up from his chair, slipping cash out of his back pocket.
“I know you love me, Luna.” His voice has lost every note of teasing and cockiness and exasperation. Now he just sounds tired. “But you don’t love me that much. And if it’s all the same, I’d rather not see your face when you realize it.”
My brother heads to the door, shoulders bowed, hands shoved deep in his pockets, the false animation he’d imbued himself with run dry.
“Asshole,” I mutter into my drink. He’s naive if he thinks I’m letting this drop because he decided to throw himself a pity party.
Then I remember one more important task. “Leo!”
His heavy sigh could fill the entire bar. “Yeah?”
“What’s Dad’s number?”
That earns his full attention. Looking back over his shoulder, he shoots me a disbelieving eyebrow raise. “You want to talk to him?”
I scoff. “No.”
“Then why do you want it?”
“Reasons.”
He faces me, the embodiment of wariness. “What reasons?”
I meet his stare head-on, leaving every ounce of emotion out of my voice.
“Mine.”
My brother watches me for a stretch of time before shaking his head. But as he resumes his departure, he calls out a string of numbers.
With his back turned, he misses my evil grin.
ChapterEight
LUNA
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” A young guy growls the greeting a second before the legs of his chair slam down on the concrete. I interrupted him playing that balancing game kids in school always did when they were bored and their chairs weren’t attached to their desk.
Not the best position for a man keeping watch.
“I’m here to see Mike.” Giving the guard any information is generous on my part when I could’ve easily brushed past him before he thought about standing. But I don’t want to play a round of tag where this teenager might decide to win by pulling a weapon.
“He doesn’t just see anyone. And you can’t go in there.” He shoves up from his seat, blocking the door in an unimpressive show of acting as a wall.
I sigh, shaking my head at this boy. Eager to be part of this criminal element but already messing everything up. He’s clueless to the point where I’m tempted to correct his mistakes.
Don’t relax on your watch.
Don’t admit to a stranger that you know who they’re talking about.
Worse, don’t tell them the boss is in the building.
