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“It wasn’t like that.”
“Jesus Christ.” He glares. “Can’t you follow a simple order?”
“Not my strongest suit.”
“No shit. Always were too stubborn. Always had to be in charge, in control.”
Because he’s right, I don’t say anything.
“You always thought you had to give back to us because of all you’d gotten. I didn’t understand the extent of it then, guess I do now. But did you ever stop and think for a moment how fortunate we are that you came into our lives? I don’t just mean the ranch and business you bought for Maria and James. Or this house that gave us a start or the college funds you set up for all the kids. Way before you had money, you made our lives better just by being you. You’re the brother I used to wish for. The other son my parents always wanted. You gave us as much as we gave you. More. It’s time you wake the fuck up and realize that.”
My mouth is bone dry. “Can I say something now?”
“Yeah, I’m through.”
“I admit that I’ve felt I owed you all, but it wasn’t out of a sense of obligation. Never that. It was always out of gratitude and love. But I realize now that’s not an excuse for lying and keeping secrets. I messed up, Victor. I should have told you years ago. I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what else to say. What else to do.”
“What’s done is done. Now we move on and deal with Malcolm. I got the piece.” He gets up and disappears from the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a black device in his palm that’s not much bigger than a paperclip.
“That’s it?”
“Yep. One of the smallest recording devices available. It’s got good range too, and a transmitter that will allow for a backup. Let’s try it out.”
Victor gives me a quick lesson and I tuck it inside the front pocket of my jeans.
“Testing, testing,” he says from several feet away.
When I play it back, his voice comes through clear as a bell. “Cool.”
“Yeah. I get to try all kinds of gadgets doing surveillance and sting operations. I’m looking forward to this one.”
“Thanks for helping me out. This meeting’s been a long time coming.”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Yep. It’s set. He’ll be there.” I stick the device back inside my pocket. “So, we’re good?”
Without answering, he raises his hand to his mouth, spits into his palm, and extends it out to me.
“Jesus.” I grimace.
“You weaseling out?”
“Nope.” Respectful of the pledge we made at six, I spit into my own hand and grip his firmly. “Brothers forever.”
And just like that, we’re okay again.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Dee
Dr. Patrice Roland’s office isdecorated in subtle pastels that are both professional and calming. The good doctor conveys the same—an attractive woman in her mid-fifties with a salted afro and earthy brown eyes that are warm and intelligent behind plastic frames.
“How are you, Dee?”
“I’m great,” I say, settling into my usual spot on the light peach sofa across from her. She takes a seat in the matching armchair and places a tablet on her lap, crosses her legs, and gives me a pleasant smile.
“It shows. Tell me what’s great.”
