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This gold digger and the little girl hurt my family, and for that, they will pay.
Someone must take the brunt of my anger.
My eyes fix on a weed sprouting through a crack in the concrete. Most of it has died, the other part halfway to hell.
“A bill is due, and someone must pay it.” I grind my heel against the weed, snuffing out the remaining life and putting it out of its misery. And they say I’m not capable of mercy. “Since you aren’t here to face the consequences of your actions, Dad, you’ve limited my options. What happens next is on you.”
It didn’t matter that he died. Evil lasts forever. I have no doubt he’s in hell, watching this unfold. His fault for loving the girl. His fault for wanting her to be taken care of after he was in jail. His fault for leaving her here for the wolves.
For me.
Instantly, I know who to call.
Reaching into my back pocket, I fish out my cell phone, swipe the screen, and hit number two on speed dial (Ivy is number one. I love my sister. Sue me).
“Aldridge,” Jax answers. “How the fuck are you? I haven’t spoken to you in forever.”
“Apparently, you’re too busy to call back your old friends.”
“You’re one to talk. When was the last time your sorry ass picked up the phone to call me? You use me for my resources and then crickets. Some friend you are.” His signature sarcastic chuckle fills the line.
“Fine. You’re right,” I admit, forcing myself to loosen up. “I’m just as bad, but I like to fuck with you.”
“So, what’s going on? As much as I’d like to believe this is a social call, you sound off. Talk to me.”
“Not over the phone.”
“Come on, Trent. You know my shit is locked down.”
“True. If anyone’s is, it’s yours.”
I run a palm down my face, making my way to the car. I feel like I’m leaving behind a crime scene. The weed is lifeless behind me. Strong enough to break through concrete but not strong enough to survive the heel of my Kitons.
“But hell.” I sigh. “You never know.”
With some of the shady shit I get myself involved in these days, I can never be too careful.
“Fine. Where should we meet? The usual?”
“That works for me. Time?”
“Same old time. Once I finish work.”
“Should we hit up Cyrus’s after?” I chuckle, sliding into my Aston Martin DBX.
There’s no way Jaxson Price would show up to a card game these days. The man is too busy hacking foreign governments.
“Shut the fuck up,” he barks out, not missing a beat, making me laugh even harder. “See you at six.”
When I hang up, I drive to the office, park in my spot in the structure, and head out onto the sidewalk instead of into the building.
I’m later than normal, but it’s fine.
Technically, I should probably call Ivy and see if she wants to talk.
I’m sure this shit is hurting her.
If my brain is this fucked up, I can’t imagine hers is okay. This shit has got to remind her of a past she wants to forget.
