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He chuckles to himself and his face grows serious. “There’s one other thing, Carmine. I need to warn you about something. You know how I’ve been doing work for a certain government?” He pauses and mouthsIsraeland winks. “I’ve been looking at the Russians for a while now, you know, surveilling the oligarchs, getting a feel for what they’re up to, and I noticed some weird chatter the last few days. Turns out that Brice’s old man is back at it trying to raise money from someverybad people.”
I let that sink in. Taking cash from Greek mafias is one thing, but talking to the Russian oligarchs right now with everything going on in the world is fucking suicidal.
“Are you kidding me? He’s hitting up Russian oligarchs for money now? That’s as low as it gets.”
“Right? I know, seriously. We’re not even talking fun Russians that like hockey and Hollywood movies, we’re talking about mean Russians that get off on killing people and eating shitty caviar. He’s into some deep, dark shit right now, and I guess he’s pretty desperate to stay out of jail. Just figured you’d want to know.”
“Thanks for telling me,” I say, staring down at my hands as anger pulses into my spine. Her fucking father is the dumbest man in the entire world. No, he’s not dumb—if he were dumb, he wouldn’t be able to do so much damage—worse, he’s a fucking coward. That man is willing to throw his entire family under the bus if it means he doesn’t have to spend any time in prison. And the worst part of it all is he probably wouldn’t even see serious jail time, and definitely not in a big-time max security prison. They’d throw him into some comfy little blue-collar jail with, like, TVs in every room and pedicures on the weekends and the occasional conjugal visit. He’s such a piece of shit that he can’t suffer even a little bit if it means keeping his daughter safe.
Lanzo says, “Anyway, I’m going to go see if I can get Evander to fight a bouncer. I’m bored of this place already. Never did like the Oak all that much. Weird vibes.”
He walks off and I watch him go, seething. Brice’s father is going to get them killed—again. I didn’t know one man could dig such a deep hole, but it’s like he’s dead set on screwing them for life, and if the Greeks aren’t willing to do it then he’ll somehow make the Russians hate him enough to cut his throat.
I turn my back on the boys and drink my drink and stew, and after a few minutes, I find myself thinking about Brice, thinking about the money her family owes, about her father getting back into the same old shit, about her safety, about the Russians, and Lanzo’s words ring through my head.
He’s right and I hate it.
Here I am in my favorite place in the world with my four closest friends, men I haven’t seen in a while, and I’m busy glaring at everyone around me and drinking too much all because I miss her.
I fucking miss her. And I hate it.
Why not do something about that?
Brice is still out there and she still needs me. Even if she thinks she doesn’t, I know Panagos is the least of her worries. Her moron father is taking money from some very shady characters and that’s going to blow up in his face sooner rather than later, and here I am drowning my sorrows instead of doing what I really want to do, which is go to Dallas and save her ass—again.
There’s a shout and a scuffle over in the corner and sure enough, it’s Evander loudly explaining to some staff why he’s allowed to break a chair on the floor if he so desires while Lanzo eggs him on and Ford and Gareth try to mediate. The poor girl Evander was dancing with looks mortified and I wonder if the big guy blew his chances with her, but kind of doubt it. Somehow Evander can act like a total caveman and still everyone loves him because the bastard’s clever and charming and handsome.
My friends are monsters. They’re bastards, players, assholes, killers, and thieves, and I love them to death. I want to be with them right now more than anything in the world but I can’t get Brice out of my head, and the worry is eating at me like a swarm of pissed-off wasps. If I can’t get it under control, it’ll destroy me, and I’m not about to let myself get ripped to shreds.
There’s only one thing I can do, and that’s to get off my ass, stop obsessing so damn much, and do something.
“Here’s to the Atlas,” I say, raise my glass to the boys, and toss it back. I slide the empty to the bartender. “Put the bill on my tab, whatever they end up owing.”
“Of course, Mr. Scavo.”
I stand up and walk to the door, hands shoved in my pockets. Lanzo catches my eye before I can make a quick exit, but he only grins and winks and blows me a kiss.
I grin back, unable to help myself, and slip out the back. I’ll make it up to them later. For now, I have business.
Chapter24
Brice
“You look like you’re having so much fun!” Robyn yells to me over the deafening club music as it pulses and pounds all around us. “Seriously! You can’t stop smiling! You’re having so much fun and it’s totally infectious!”
I glare at her. “That’s not true.”
“No shit! You’re a huge Debbie Downer!” She shoves a glass of champagne into my hand. “Drink! Now!”
I do as I’m told even though I don’t like it. Robyn dances with Sara and Cassidy, and I do my best to keep up, but even losing myself in the darkness of the club, in the pulsing lights coming from the DJ’s stage as the music slams down around us in a visceral waterfall of adrenaline and pure sex, I still can’t make myself enjoy anything. I feel lost, adrift, and it’s easy to lose myself in the crowd except every time I really try to sink into the music and the dancing and the people, flashes ofhimkeep coming back.
It’s not that I’m thinking about Carmine all the time. I’m definitelynotthinking about Carmine constantly. I’m not wondering about him, I’m not picturing what it would be like for him to sweep me off my feet, and I definitely don’t want him to be here with me right this second.
I’m not thinking about him and I don’t care.
Carmine stabbed my father in the back and got him thrown into jail all so he could take control of my family’s company. He’s a snake and a liar and a cheater and a bastard, and I hate him now more than I ever did, even more than when he rubbed my face in the dirt during the softball game, more than when he took my virginity in the piano room, more than when he held me in bed and kissed my neck and made me feel safe and loved and cared for and heard for the first time in my life.
I definitely don’t miss him like my own breath, like my own heartbeat.
