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I gulped. Of course. How stupid. Slowly I put my checkbook away and looked up. “Should I leave it here?”
Before he could answer, a paper bag I hadn’t realized Brandon was carrying slammed on the bar between Messina and me.
“That’s half,” Brandon uttered casually, the only sign of his tension a ticking muscle in his jaw as Messina pulled out ten thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
“Lucky you got a friend who knows something about how these things work, sweetheart,” Messina remarked as he picked up the stacks and thumbed through them appreciatively before shoving them back into the bag and tossing it to his associates. “Count it,” he barked.
“Where did you get that?” I muttered into Brandon’s ear behind me.
“I came prepared,” he whispered back.
I frowned. How had he known we would stop here? Was he planning this the entire time?
Messina turned back to us, this time with renewed interest in Brandon.
“Danny knows where to deliver the rest of the money,” Messina said as he perused the tower of tension standing behind me. “He’s done it plenty of other times.”
I bit back a reply as I watched the men count the stiff bills. This had been going on for a lot longer than I’d thought.
“And, gorgeous, it goes without saying, but if I even smell a whiff of the cops…”
“You won’t,” I said sharply. “And you’ll get your money.”
“Excellent. Shall we have another drink to celebrate our business together?” Messina leered at me, his portly face twisting in a complete perversion of a smile.
Brandon grabbed my hand. “No, we’ve got some things to do,” he said tightly.
I nodded my agreement, and Messina shrugged.
“All right, then, sweetheart,” he said as he looked over his shoulder to check on his lackeys’ progress. One of them gave a nod, and Messina looked back at me and winked. “I’ll see you in a month, Red.”
At that, Brandon practically dragged me out of the bar, barely allowing me to wave at Nick before we plowed back into the sunshine. Brandon kept my hand locked in his until we were back inside the plush interior of the car.
“Go,” he barked at David, who immediately pulled away while Brandon checked over my shoulder to make sure we hadn’t been followed. Now he was involved in this mess, and it wouldn’t be good if Messina or his nameless henchmen caught wind of Brandon’s money. I slumped into my seat.
After we had turned the block, Brandon finally looked to me, eyes blazing.
“What the fuck were you doing in there?” he spat. “That was really fuckin’ stupid, Skylar.”
His accent was even more pronounced now than it was in the bar. This time I didn’t think it was on purpose.
I gaped. “Says the man who was carrying a hundred grand as walking-around money. Are you serious? What were you even doing with that?”
Brandon’s blue eyes flashed. “Your dad’s in trouble. I didn’t know how much he owed, but it was enough to get the shit beat out of him, so I estimated. I didn’t know we were going to meet up with Messina today, but it was bound to happen. I knew what I was doing, Skylar.Youhave no idea what those kinds of people are capable of.”
“Actually, I do,” I retorted. “It wasmygrandad who ended up floating in the East River, and it’smydad who’s laid up in the hospital, not yours. In case you forgot, this isn’t the first time he’s gotten in trouble!” I laughed, a shrill, harsh bark that seemed to echo around us. “I didn’t want to drag you into this mess, Brandon, but you seem dead set on it. So you should know that this isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with VictorfuckingMessina.”
In the front seat, David’s eyes flickered back to mine in the rearview mirror before turning forward again.
“David,” Brandon barked. “Headphones.” He pressed his lips together, considering while David followed orders. “How many other times?”
I crossed my arms and slumped further. I hated that I even had to tell him any of this. “Twice before. Once when I was in high school. It wasn’t a huge debt, just ten thousand, but we had to sell most of Bubbe’s jewelry and take a bit out of my college fund to make good on it. The last time was during my first year at Harvard, and I also paid that off from my school fund.”
I didn’t mention those were only the times we’d had to deal with Messina—I wasn’t even counting the other petty debts Dad had run up around the neighborhood when I was just a kid, usually after one of the times my mom would leave. Those, thankfully, hadn’t been too life-altering, even if some shady characters showed up on our doorstep every so often.
“And do you really think paying these shitheads off helps?” Brandon asked incredulously. “Who do you think it is that gets him back to the tables and track?”
“You don’t know that,” I said weakly, although I was already distinctly aware that Dad had probably been conned into this mess at some point.
