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“We got enough goods to fulfill our commitments. That’s all that matters.” He starts toward the bar, and my dad’s voice stops him before he wraps his fingers around the whiskey bottle.
“Get your own damn booze. I swear you boys never change.” He shakes his head in a lamenting fashion that has me and my brother exchanging grins.
“So what’s next?” Linc asks. “Do we dig up some dirt on the border guards? See what had them stopping that shipment from crossing lines?”
I set down my glass. “Yeah—” I start to say before my phone buzzes.
I pull it out and check the text. It’s a picture from Patrick of a cactus in a clay pot.
With a shake of my head, I focus my attention on the discussion between Linc and our old man about the guards and whether or not Stepanov got his hooks into them and paid them off to stop our flow of commerce.
Another text comes through from my brother. As I read it, the growl in my throat cuts to silence.
Meet Jagger.
I issue a rough laugh, surprising me and my family members even more. They both look at me like I’ve grown another head.
They exchange a what-the-fuck’s-up-with-Heath look, and I’m wondering that myself. I imagine Patrick’s laughing his goddamn ass off right about now. I tell him to be on the lookout for some dickhead tangled up with Serenity and he finds a fucking plant.
She led me along too, and I fell for it—probably the most telling thing was my reaction.
“Heath.” Linc’s voice slices into me. I shake myself back to reality. I might have gotten a bit sidetracked there for a moment.
“The drugs you took from Stepanov—did you distribute them yet?” I ask.
“Two crates so far. The rest we hoped you’d deal with, since you know more about the buyers than we do. We didn’t want to piss anyone off and lose a customer.”
“Yeah, I’ll handle it. Where’s the stash now?”
“Green Street.”
“Time to collect rents there anyway. I’ll head over now.” Buying the property on Green was my idea, a way to launder some money through the “apartments” and use the basement as a warehouse for shipments.
Normally, Big Ronnie or Killer Sebastian handle all this, but since Sergei won’t be so happy once he finds out who has the crates, I’ll do it and make sure everything’s done right.
Then I plan on going over to Patrick’s so I can hassle Serenity about the whole Jagger joke. That woman’s always had me tied up in knots. I thought I was over her.
Turns out I’m crazier than ever for her.
Serenity
Patrick takes me back to his place. Not a condo like Heath’s but an actual house on a busy street smack in the middle of town. One of those small houses you pass by every day as a kid and wonder who lives there.
Now I know.
If the exterior has an aged charm, the interior is where Patrick kicked it up a notch. I’m shocked by how modern the furnishings are and delight in the exposed brick on some of the walls.
The enormous curved black leather sofa taking up the entirety of the living room looked uncomfortable when I first sat down. Now I don’t want to get up.
I smooth a hand over the expensive leather. “This is just the sort of thing we talked about owning when we grew up.”
Patrick looks up from his phone. The cold steel in his eyes takes a second to dissipate but when it does, I see the old friend who’s always been there for me in his gaze.
He nods. “That’s why I bought it. A place to sleep. A place to—”
“Eat,” I finish. “A place to lounge and play—”
“Video games,” he finishes for me. We grin at each other.
