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This would be a problem long term if Sanjay didn’t know that Gordie had no say in his future. Like the rest of the top ten percent of the top five percent, we were bound by old blood and money to fates few of us escaped, alive anyway.
“You gonna make it?” I asked.
Squeak nodded, said, “It’s not the first time someone’s punched me in the mouth.” He looked up at Gordie, back to me, and as he started to walk away, he said, “Just the first time I didn’t get off after he did it.”
My brow shot up, and Gordie blushed so red I thought his face was going to catch fire. I shook my head. “You better get that shit out of your system. Her father will—”
“I would never.” He glared at me. “I love her. I treat her with respect.”
“So you don’t respect or love him?” I tilted my head. That family was really fucked up in the relationship department. Since I was practically raised in a drug lord drama of my own, that made the thought of having an emotion-based relationship absurd. I thought that said something about them.
“It’s different with him. I love them both. You’ve never been in love with anyone but yourself, Apollo. One day…it’s going to knock you the fuck out.” He shrugged. “Then you’ll see.”
“If it knocks me out, how would I see anything?” I snickered. “Oh, when I wake up, is that when I get to get off from it?”
He walked away and flicked his hand at me as if he were exasperated. Weak. If I learned anything from growing up in my family, it was simple. A kingpin needed a queen, but that couldn’t be just anybody. It had to be a ride or die. It had to be someone who had your back and could hold up your front if you were locked away. It had to be…I tilted my head as I watched Harpy holding Rip’s hand as she walked with him, Dane, and Tituss toward the pool. It had to be someone who knew how to be loved and feared. Who inspired that love in others. Damn, maybe she was my Helen of Troy after all. I needed to make a new addendum to that contract.
Chapter Thirty-One
Harpy
I took a seat at the round table in the office at the Junior House. Dane and Tituss flanked me, and Apollo faced me. He said, “This is what we are prepared to offer you.”
I pushed it back and said, “I’m good where I am.”
He smiled and pushed it back toward me and said, “Did you read it?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t need to read it. I don’t—”
I looked from one to the other and realized that they knew this was coming. Dane said, “It’s a promotion, and…it’s…I don’t like—”
“I don’t care what you like. I know you don’t like. He won’t like either, but I like.” Apollo tilted his head and gave me a somewhat appraising look, and said, “I’m not all that interested. I just want the option if I get bored.”
I blinked at him. What the fuck did he just say?
Tituss clenched his fists, and I looked over, and his jaw was just as tight. “Don’t—”
Apollo let his head fall back on a laugh and said, “Jesus. You…that’s the reason. Right there, though. I can’t help it. Look at you. You want to fight me, Tituss?”
“No.” I shook my head. “No more fighting. Let me…look at the contract.”
Something about how they both moved their legs so that their knees touched mine under that table made me aware that I was not about to like what I was going to read.
They were right. And they were wrong. I gulped and said, “This is a lot of money.”
A whole lot of fucking money.
Apollo said, “It’s a lot of work. But you already know that.”
“I’m the Mrs. Carson of this…” I needed to choose my next word wisely. “Fraternity.”
All three of them waited. “The head housekeeper on Downton Abbey. Never mind.”
Apollo said, “I didn’t know the head housekeeper was fucking the boss. I might need to—”
“She wasn’t.” I shook my head. “And I won’t be either. If you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only one not falling to their knees here. It said that I am exclusive to the three of you. Are you going to be exclusive to me?”
“Are they?” he asked.
