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“It won’t help. They’re both new hires.
Of course. “All right, I’ll be going.”
“Can I expect Miss St. James next week?”
“No. I don’t feel your boutique meets my standards. Not for my most distinguished clients, anyway.” I strutted out of the boutique, leaving the manager with her jaw on the ground.
It took me an hour to make sure Simone’s building was secure, along with her loft. I knew it was but I needed to be sure. All the cameras I’d installed were intact. I knew they would be; I was exceptional at my job.
What in the fuck was I to do about Simone? Sitting on her sofa, I warred with myself over the dilemma I’d been thrown into. I had a choice to make. One I didn’t want. One I hated.
For my entire life, my loyalty had been to my younger brother. To keep him safe and out of harm’s way. Neither of us knew our fathers. Their names were not listed on our birth certificates—only our mother’s: Patsy Pérez.
But it was easy to see two different men had fathered us. I was tall with dark, wavy hair and olive skin. Conrad was of average height, dark-skinned, and had kinky, curly black hair. Mom had told us we both had her Spanish blood in us, and it was all we needed to know.
Conrad had been bullied in school. He was the runt in the pack. His dark skin stood out against the rest of us, but it never bothered my buddies and me. We were all from broken homes, and several were fatherless like Conrad and me. But it was snotty, “we’re better than you” white kids who had given my brother shit. They didn’t bother me because I was bigger than most of them and beat the crap out of them.
In elementary school, I had protected him most of the time. But he was four years younger, so when I went to middle school, I couldn’t be his bodyguard. Of course, after school I handled it, jumping whoever hurt my brother and beating the shit out of them.
It was never enough though. Conrad had gotten mixed in with the wrong crowd in seventh grade. Started experimenting with drugs and drinking. He was never interested in his education; he failed classes and got detention for mouthing off to teachers or just being a dickhead. Me? I studied hard because I wanted out of our mostly white town.
In my senior year of high school, Mom’s latest boyfriend, Monty, caught her with another man one night at a local bar. He pulled a knife on the guy, the cops were called, and all three of them spent the night in jail. Monty had been arrested for drunkenness and fighting before, so I wasn’t surprised when my mom called me.
Two days after they were released, Monty followed Mom over to Dan’s trailer. He stabbed them to death then took his own life. It was Conrad’s fourteen birthday. Fortunately I was already eighteen and could be his guardian. But our lives had changed forever that day.
I’d gotten a scholarship to play football in college but gave it up for my little brother. It wasn’t like I could move him into the dorms with me. Instead, I joined the army so I could provide for him. We were all we had left in the world. There was no one to take Conrad in full time, so the responsibility fell solely on me. I’d be damned if I let my little brother go into foster care. I would have worked ten jobs just to provide for him. Luckily, one of my friends took Conrad in when I went to basic training.
I had been taking care of my baby brother ever since, digging him out of the crap he got himself into, but this latest shit was beyond my abilities. My kid brother had a price on his head because the little fucker had messed with the wrong man this time.
I fucking couldn’t save him on my own, but I’d do anything to protect him. Even return to the one place I hoped to never step foot in again, St. James Investments.
After the ordeal with Jason Sayton was over, Will had told me if I ever needed anything to come to him. He felt indebted to me for helping him and Miranda. It was a nice gesture, one I appreciated but never intended to take him up on.
I never liked relying on anyone, but after Conrad called scared out of his mind a week ago, I didn’t have a choice. I needed help.
Monetary help…
Seven hundred and thirty grand or my brother’s life.
Conrad shivered on the bed, drenched in sweat. They fucked him up good, giving him a fat lip and black eyes. Bruises covered his body. From what I could feel, he had several broken ribs. The sick fucks even shaved the back of his head and tattooed $730k on it so he wouldn’t forget the price to keep his head.
“They…they said…twenty…twenty days.” Conrad stuttered, looking like the kid I’d held as he cried the day of our mother’s murder.
The flea-bag hotel Conrad had called from reeked of mold and urine. I sucked in a breath regardless as I paced, a raging fire growing in my chest.
“And?”
“And? And what? What more… do… do you want? They’re going… going to kill… me, Ax. Kill me!” He broke down, sobbing on the bed.
“Have you finally learned your lesson to not dick around with these fuckers? Have you?”
The gambling idiot was just as, if not more, stubborn than our mother. Maybe this time, having his life threatened and getting the shit beat out of him would finally make him change his ways.
I wasn’t going to hold my breath though.
He hung his head. “I really thought luck was on my side this time.”
I groaned. “Jesus, you will never learn, will you?”
