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“Shut up,” he grumbled. “Let’s get this shit over with.”
“Ah, the words every man wants to hear on his wedding day,” Duke grinned. “It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I asked you to do this.”
Again, my head whipped back to Johnny. “You knew!”
“See, this is why I don’t do this shit,” he snapped, trying to step around us.
I grabbed him by the arm and shoved him back. “I won’t say another word.”
“You better not.”
“Except forI do,” Duke added quickly. “That’s sort of necessary.”
Johnny looked between the both of us, then pulled a small book from the back of his pants. “Dearly beloved…Seriously? I can’t do this shit. Duke and Rae, do you?”
It was exactly the wedding I imagined ten minutes ago. I smiled at Duke and nodded. “I do.”
“Me too,” he laughed.
“Good, then we can get the fuck out of here,” Johnny said, shoving the book at me as he stormed between us and back the way we came.
I turned back to Duke, unable to keep the smile from my face. “So…”
“So…Mrs. Duke.”
“I like the sound of that. Johnny said we have a half hour, so…” He jerked his head toward the house.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his. “With the short ceremony, I bet we have an extra fifteen.”
He swooped me off my feet and hauled ass to the house, ignoring the catcalls from everyone around us. When he shoved us through the door, he stopped and grinned sheepishly at me. “I suppose now would be the wrong time to revisit that conversation about kids.”
10
JACK
I stoodon my front steps, fighting the morning chill with just a sweatshirt and jeans. My bare feet scraped against the concrete steps as I sank down on the first step, pulling out a pack of smokes and a lighter. While it was still dark out, I could pretend that I was anywhere else, maybe living in the country somewhere, far away from the drugs and guns running through this city. No matter how long I lived here, I just couldn’t see the appeal.
Shaking out a cigarette, I placed the tip between my teeth and flicked open the lighter. The first drag felt like relief after nearly two weeks of being clean. I ran my hand up and down my thigh, rubbing away the urge to use. My hands still tingled, and I constantly felt like I was covered in bugs. They burrowed under my skin, eating away at me from the inside. Most days, I just wanted to end things so I wouldn’t have this goddamn overwhelming desire to shoot heroin into my body.
But I would never give in to the temptation. It wasn’t in me. I was a fighter, born to fix whatever issues came my way. I’d never taken the easy way out in my life. Even when I joined the military to get out of going to jail, I set the standards higher than any of my drill instructors. And when I was deployed for the first time, there was no messingaround. I stayed focused, refusing to joke around with the guys about the simplest things. They all thought I had a stick up my ass, but I was only that way because of how badly I’d fucked up with my sister. There was no room for error when others’ lives were on the line.
I took another drag and scanned the neighborhood. Every light was still off, except for my neighbor to the left. Skylar was always up at this time. She left with her kid before most people were even awake. I couldn’t imagine that poor kid’s life, that he was always running out the door so early. Did he get a proper breakfast?
Not that I should be thinking about that. He wasn’t my concern. The only reason I paid attention was because of her connection to Rico. He would come around again, and when he did, I had to be ready for him. It wasn’t a coincidence that Baz put her in the same neighborhood as the rest of the crew in the area. He had her under lock and key, and I had a feeling it had something to do with his business, not just that her kid was his grandson. But if that was the case, where did she fit into all this?
The screen door of her house jerked open, banging against the siding. The kid ran out, not even paying attention to his surroundings.
“Parker! I told you to wait!”
I shook my head as I watched her lock her door. Pathetic. How did a woman like that not only procreate with a loser like Rico, but then decide that it was okay to live amongst criminals? That was a shitty way to raise a kid. I would know. My parents were the absolute worst of humanity.
She rushed down to the car, grabbing her son by the arm as she turned him to face her. I couldn’t see what she was saying, but she looked pissed. My fists clenched as I watched her scold her son. I waited for her to make a move, to lift her arm in anger. It would be the last fucking thing she ever did.
But just as I thought it was all coming to a head, she wrapped her arms around her son and pulled him in for a hug. Grinning, the kid planted a kiss on her lips. That wasn’t what I expected at all. She tucked him into the backseat and got in her car, but when she started the engine, it wouldn’t turn over. She slammed her hand on the steering wheel, then tried again. It wasn’t going to work.
I took another drag of my cigarette, the orange light catching her attention. Fuck, I knew it was a bad idea to sit out here. She made a call, clearly frustrated with the situation. I don’t know why I pushed off the step, or what possessed me to walk over to the woman. Just talking to her was dangerous. I didn’t need to be wrapped up in her mess with Rico. The only thing I wanted was to gain intel on his father. But getting close to her might be the best way to get more intel into Baz’s operation.
Knocking at the window, I ignored the way she jerked at the sight of me. I motioned for her to roll down her window. I saw the hesitation in her eyes, the way they flicked to the back seat first. She was nervous and that was a fucking good thing in this neighborhood. I was a little disappointed when she decided to trust me. She didn’t know that I was the good guy. Hell, in this neighborhood, I was the furthest thing from someone trustworthy.
