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He glanced around, surprised to see that Jose had left. Regent gestured to him.

Fine. Fuck.

He headed over to his oldest brother. The one that had been more of a father to him than their father ever had.

“Everything all right?” Regent asked, pulling out a cigarette. He’d quit a long time ago, around the time that Lottie had been found. They all knew he’d stopped for her. Because he didn’t want to chance her taking in his secondhand smoke. But sometime after she left, he’d started up again.

Was the stress getting to him?

“Want one?”

Maxim shook his head. Cigarettes had never been his vice. Sometimes, he was surprised that Regent let himself have a weakness.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m just pissed that guy died in one of my clubs,” he explained. “From drugs, this asshat was selling.”

Regent nodded. “I get it. But if we don’t find out who is supplying this shit, then it’s likely to happen again. And there’s no way of stopping it until we get to the source.”

“I know.”

“So there’s no use blaming yourself for shit you can’t control.”

Maxim eyed him incredulously. “Do you ever take your own advice?” Because his brother was the epitome of a control freak. If you looked that term up in the dictionary there would be a picture of Regent Malone.

Regent shook his head. “I don’t blame myself for things that are out of my control. I just make sure that I control as much as I can in my life.”

Yep. Total control freak.

“Tell us who supplied you with the drugs.” Victor was doing something to Jeremy that had him making pained, guttural groans.

Fuck.

He didn’t have a weak stomach, but those noises weren’t something he ever wanted to hear again.

Victor was whispering something in Jeremy’s ear. Then Jeremy said something back. Something he couldn’t hear. He moved closer.

“Did he give you a name?”

“Yeah,” Victor said with a sigh. “It’s another middleman.”

Disappointment filled him. He’d hoped they’d have a name tonight.

“It’s a lead,” Regent said, patting his back. “The supplier is using layers to protect himself. But we’ll work our way back. We have to be careful, though. Those low down the chain won’t be missed, but someone higher up might be.”

“Yeah, I need to send men to scope this guy out,” Victor said. “Then bring him in. I have this.”

Maxim felt helpless. “What can I do?”

“Keep your staff watching for this stuff being distributed,” Regent said.

That was it? He wanted to do more. But he got that he had little experience in this side of the business.

“You’re helping,” Regent told him. “We’ll get the bastard pushing these drugs in our town. And then we’ll make him wish he’d never been born.”

11

I wish you’d never been born.

Those words sang through her brain. Like a Ping-Pong ball firing around her head, they wouldn’t stop.

I wish you’d never been born.

You were a mistake.

Should have smothered you as a baby.

Stop! Just stop.

Aston paused and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. She probably shouldn’t be back at work. Exhaustion had her moving slowly and her brain didn’t want to function.

Plus, she was pretty sure she still had a slight fever. She felt her forehead.

Darn it.

Yeah, she probably should have stayed at home. But the walls had felt like they were closing in on her, especially after her nightmare.

You are my greatest regret.

Stop it! Stop it!

This was ridiculous. She’d gotten away from them. They couldn’t hurt her anymore.

Only you can let them affect you. So just push it aside and get on with living your life the way you want to.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

She glanced up at Gretchen as she pulled a face, staring down at her. “Tell me what you really think.”

“I just did.”

She sighed. Maxim would have understood the sarcasm. He might have fired back at her.

Darn it. Was she missing him? Why would she be missing him?

Because you like him. He was nice to you.

She was not going to fall for the first man who was nice to her.

“You’re not contagious, are you?”

Shoot. She hoped not. She hadn’t thought about that. How irresponsible was that?

“I don’t think so.” But now, the guilt was overloading her.

Her phone buzzed and she drew it out of her handbag, wondering who it could be. Maxim had somehow managed to get Brian to fix the hot water in her apartment so she could shower this morning.

It had felt like the best shower of her life.

PITB: Where are you? I’m outside your apartment and you’re not coming to the door.

PITB: You better be in the shower or on the toilet and not at work.

PITB: Aston . . . answer me. Now.

Shoot. She’d somehow missed the first two messages. What was he doing outside her apartment?

And yes, she’d entered him in her phone as PITB: Pain-in-the-butt.

“Aston? Are you paying attention to me?” Gretchen whined.

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