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Matty lifts his eyes, slowly peeling them away from his brother and fixing them on Desmond. “So you are the head of the Genovese family,” he remarks with a hint of amusement in his tone, an undercurrent I don’t fully comprehend.
Desmond slams his hands on the wooden frame, his control snapping like a taut rubber band. “You put everyone in danger for your bullshit. I’d have let you bleed out if it weren’t for Charlotte.”
“I’m already dead,” Matty retorts with his distinctive Southern drawl. “You and I both know there isn’t any way I’m walking out of this house alive.”
In the next breath, the Desmond I’ve come to be infatuated with vanishes, replaced by the cruel crime lord I suspect him to be. His face tilts down, and he glares at Matty from beneath his lashes. “Then tell me what the fuck you were thinking.”
“No,” Matty snaps back.
Lyric sighs and pulls away from my neck. “Sorry, dove. Duty calls.” Despite his injury, Lyric lifts me up and settles me into the seat. It’s not the most graceful maneuver, a bit jerky, but he barely breaks a sweat.
Using one crutch, Lyric limps to the bed and gazes down at his brother. The room becomes charged with tension, creating a palpable sensation of unease. It synchronizes with the two brothers’ heartbeats, an unspoken understanding hanging in the room.
Finally, Lyric shakes his head, his voice heavy with mixed emotions. “I told you to stop looking for me.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Matty replies, his determination evident as he attempts to sit up. “You knew I wouldn’t stop.”
“Why, man? Why couldn’t you just let it go?” Lyric’s voice wavers momentarily, reverting to a scared little boy.
“I watched you and Kelly get carted off, and I couldn’t fight for you,” Matty admits, his voice breaking with pain. “You think I wouldn’t come looking for you after all these years? Do you think I wouldn’t use every resource I could to find you? Lyric, you’re my brother.”
“I am not the brother you lost,” Lyric whispers.
“You think I expected to find a child?” Matty lets out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and icy. “I never expected to find a child. I expected to find a broken man, but that isn’t what I found either, is it?”
A slight twitch of Lyric’s lips, and he replies, “No. Why were you at the truck stop, Matty? And don’t lie. Desmond is one breath away from shooting you.” Lyric presses a finger to his forehead, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.
My pulse skyrockets as I exchange glances between Desmond and the brothers, acutely aware of the gravity of the moment. Desmond’s intense gaze is fixed on me, watching my every reaction before he slowly turns back to the brothers, commanding, “Explain yourself.”
“Fine,” Matty snaps, tension mounting.
Lyric snorts before limping back to me. I hop up, receiving a disapproving look from him. I wait until he’s settled back into the chair before sitting on his lap again. He’s colder than his usual furnace temperature.
“I got desperate, okay?” Matty huffs, struggling to find the right words. “I knew Lyric was here, so I figured if I can’t beat them, I’ll join them.”
This confession makes me pause. I turn to Desmond, who runs a finger over his bottom lip, his gaze briefly distant before locking back on Matty. “Go on.”
“I knew that Sal’s father wanted out of retirement,” Matty continues, shooting a quick glance my way. “I knew they were getting closer to making a power grab, so I put feelers out there. I spent a decade trailing everyone in the big five. Honestly, it was easier than I thought it would be. I made enough contacts to know I could find out what they were planning if I tried, so I tried.”
“Are you a dirty cop?” I question, realization hitting me.
Matty shakes his head. “No, I’m not a dirty cop, but I know who is,” he snarks, glaring at Desmond. “Sal Sr. is infiltrating all of old man Genovese’s business endeavors. The old man is back to drug running.”
My gaze shifts to Desmond, the pieces of the puzzle coming together. We found enough cocaine to… Well, I don’t even want to think about what anyone does with that much cocaine. Desmond once told me his grandfather was losing his mind and that his people were just waiting for him to die.
Are the other families waiting for the same?
“I also knew that with Charlotte in their sights, I needed to protect her,” Matty continues, glancing at me. If he’s looking for disagreement from the other two, he won’t find it here. “On Monday, I caught wind that the old man had a shipment coming in from Canada, and Sal had people waiting to hijack it, so I tracked it first and waited.”
“You’re a damn idiot,” Desmond snarls, his anger simmering beneath the surface. Tension coils in his body, causing his muscles to twitch and flex, and I’m on edge, not fully comprehending why he’s so furious. “You got in the middle of a war.”
“No one was at war until you ordered Sal’s death,” Matty spits out defiantly.
Desmond rounds on him. “He had to die.”
“Well, maybe you should have let Charlotte in on that little secret,” Matty retorts. His words irritate me, even if I agree with him. I understand why I wasn’t in the know. Dammit, Harlow.
“Go on,” Lyric interjects, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. He pulls me closer, peppering my neck with distracting kisses. I suspect he’s doing it on purpose.
