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“For safety.” He put the basket in the bed of the truck and ran down to retrieve the equipment before jogging back.
Remy unlocked the doors when he got to the truck and he climbed in and drove them home where they would be safe.
Why did he have to borrow fifty thousand dollars from a drug dealer? Pride. He’d needed that money to invest in Andre’s and his construction company and the bank had turned him down. If it was only the money, he’d get him the cash right now. He’d pay anything for Remy and Lyra’s safety. But Joe was the one who’d sold him the heroin that Paul Evans had overdosed on. Joe had been his father’s dealer, and he knew that heroin wasn’t Paul’s drug of choice. He knew what Mikel had done. Too many years had passed for there to be any real proof. But if Bently found out what Mikel had done, he’d lose his brother for good.
“Is everything okay?” Remy asked, watching him warily.
He reached out his hand and wove his fingers between hers. “Of course. I’ve got my baby girl sleeping in the back, and her sexy-ass mama by my side.”
She smiled, blissfully unaware of the panic that seized his chest. He needed to talk to Bently and figure out why Joe Canoby was not behind bars still serving out the last half of his ten-year sentence.
When they pulled in to Remy’s driveway, Mikel checked his mirrors one more time. As far as he could tell, no one had followed them.
He carried Lyra in before tucking her into bed and turning the baby monitor on. He’d need all the reassurance he could get. Mikel walked out to Remy’s bedroom, their bedroom, as of tonight. He should be celebrating, like he’d said. But a nagging feeling was pulling him in another direction.
“Does this party involve you naked too?” Remy asked as she walked in the room wearing nothing but a white lace thong and matching bra.
He swallowed hard and clutched his chest. “Damn, woman. Are you tryin’ to kill me?”
Her smile was confident.
He walked forward, hating himself for having to do this. “I need to go check on Bently really quick. And grab a few things from his place. Maybe we can move the party to tomorrow morning?”
Her face transformed with worry. “Is everything okay? Did something happen to Bently?”
“Nah, I just need to make sure he’s doing fine. He’s been tired and too sick to eat much lately. And you know him; he’s too stubborn to ask for help. His treatments have been taking a lot out of him. I just want to check in.”
“Oh. Okay. Yeah, I get it,” she said.
He ran his hand over her cheek and then her bottom lip before kissing her, stealing goodness and comfort like a thief. With everything this woman had done for him, and after all these years, he was still taking. This would be it—the last time. He’d shoulder the responsibility for his mess and take care of it himself. She didn’t need to be involved in this again. He couldn’t risk hers or Lyra’s safety.
“I love you,” he said, pulling away.
“I love you too.”
“Get some sleep,” he said, kissing her forehead before making sure the baby monitor was turned on in her room. It was, so he left, not looking back at the lips he wanted to get lost in, or the thighs he wanted to part and dive between, or the white lace he would swipe aside surely to find her slick with arousal. No, he would not be selfish for once. He’d be the man she needed.
* * *
Mikel parked his truck and ran to the door of Bently’s house before using his key to enter. All the lights were off downstairs, so he went up to his brother’s room. Empty. His truck was in the driveway, so where was he? Light peeked out from the bathroom door as the toilet flushed, followed by a heaving noise.
Mikel knocked on the door. “Bent? Are you in there? You okay?”
There was a groan and then more heaving. Mikel turned the knob and entered. His brother was hunched over the porcelain bowl, white as a ghost without his shirt on. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, so much thinner than he had been when Mikel had first returned to Shattered Cove.
“I’m fine. Just go,” Bently managed, out of breath.
Mikel grabbed a towel, and a glass which he filled with water. He bent and wiped the vomit from his brother’s mouth and chin.
Bently groaned and clutched his stomach, shaking his head. “Just go.”
“Here, rinse your mouth out with this.”
Bently just stared at him.
“Goddamn it, Bently. You’re so stubborn. Just take the fucking water.”
Bently did as he said, rinsing and spitting into the toilet. Mikel flushed and then got him fresh water to drink. “You gotta stay hydrated.”
