AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Brandon ignored me and moved smoothly around several bar stools to come next to me. Reluctantly, I turned to Messina, who was watching with obvious suspicion, an expression mirrored by the trio of goons at the card table.
“Who’s your friend, Red?” Messina asked in a not particularly welcoming voice.
The sound of the familiar moniker made me want to smack his doughy face, but I did my best to ignore the impulse. “Just a friend helping out with my dad.”
Inwardly, I cursed the way my voice cracked at the mention of my father’s condition. The men behind Messina snickered too, and I wondered which one of them was responsible. Had only one of them beaten him nearly senseless, or had they taken turns targeting his various body parts?
“Skylar’s a friend of mine,” Brandon reiterated. “I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d help her out.”
I didn’t miss the intensification of his accent as he spoke. I wondered if the sudden change was on purpose. He showed no signs of anger or frustration—only the slight emphasis on the word “help.”
“Boston, eh?” Messina asked. “South end?”
Brandon’s jaw locked, his body assuming an eerily still pose. “Dorchester.” He set a hand casually on the bar top behind me, his body language clearly marking me as his territory. I didn’t hate it.
Messina raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Born and raised?”
Brandon nodded again. “Near Fields Corner. You know anyone up there?” By this point his accent was so thick the words “near,” “corner,” and “there” sounded like they didn’t include the letter “r”: “ne-ah,” “cah-nah,” and “they-ah.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got a few acquaintances,” Messina said.
They were clearly talking about the crime syndicate in Boston, and I stared at Brandon. He hadn’t mentioned those kinds of connections before—was he faking it?
“Yeah, I went to school with Mickey Larsen and Doug Murphy,” Brandon was saying. “We used to run together before they got locked up.”
“How ’bout that?” Messina asked, his eyebrows now rising in clear recognition. His thick frame relaxed at the names, and I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The pissing contest was officially over. “How’re they doing? Mickey’s still in the joint, ain’t he?”
“They both are.”
Brandon and Messina launched into a short conversation about the various times they’d both had with Brandon’s old friends, getting into enough detail that Messina completely forgot to ask Brandon’s name, particularly after Brandon bought him a drink.
“I suppose we should get back to business,” Messina said reluctantly as Nick poured two more hefty fingers of bourbon into his glass. “You all right with that, sweetheart? I’m happy to have my associates escort your tall friend here to give us some privacy.”
The way he said the word “privacy” made my spine clench, and Brandon stiffened, his fingertips suddenly white on the bar top. There was no way he was leaving unless he was unconscious.
“Um, no, he can stay,” I managed.
Messina leaned heavily on the bar. “If you say so. Well, honey, I’m sure you know that your father’s in a bit of trouble.”
I took a deep breath. “Yes, I know. I’d like to pay his debt.”
Messina raised a caterpillar-shaped brow. “All of it?”
I nodded. “Whatever it is, I can manage it.”
“Well, I tell you what, gorgeous, since I like you and your friend here, I’ll make you a deal. If you can get me twenty-five percent of the two-hundred K your dad owes me by Monday, you can have until the end of the month to give me the rest.”
I swallowed. Dad’s apology made me think it was a lot, but I wasn’t expecting that much. It would take every penny left in my trust to make just the first payment, and Bubbe would probably have to take out a second mortgage for the rest. But there was nothing to be done about it. If we didn’t pay, Dad would have his other hand ruined, or worse.
“Okay,” I breathed, willing myself to sound steadier than I was.
“Skylar—” Brandon warned.
“It’s fine,” I said a little louder, looking straight at Messina.
I pulled out the checkbook I’d brought with me for this exact purpose and started scribbling numbers before I was interrupted.
“That’s very cute, sweetheart, but I’m gonna need cash.”
