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Me: Fuck off
I tuck the phone in the pocket of my green joggers and ignore my notifications. If Nico wants to play this game, he needs to grow some balls and show his face in Atlantic City. As it stands, he’s refused to come back, even though his father, and the rest of the Ricci Crime Family, is gone.
“Hey, Pep.”
I smile at Fiona, a newly patched member, and slide onto an empty stool at the bar. “Please tell me you made some pancakes before you started inventory.”
Fiona chuckles. “You’re lucky Coast got called out in the middle of the night, otherwise I’d have made them at home for him.”
I’ve never been so happy that she’s married to a cop. Fortunately, Coast understands MC life, as he’s the VP of his club. While it’s unconventional to have a patched member who’s married to law enforcement, it’s worked out in our favor on more than one occasion.
“Here ya go,” Fiona says as she slides a plate full of pancakes in front of me.
“You’re an angel.”
Fiona returns to doing inventory while I dig into my food. I just put the last bite into my mouth when the door to the clubhouse slams open. I whirl around to see Harlow and Malachi striding toward me with matching angry expressions.
“What’s up?” I ask as I hop off my stool.
Harlow lifts her gaze to look at Malachi and he nods slightly. When she returns her attention to me, I mentally brace myself for whatever bomb she’s about to drop.
“We’ve got trouble.”
CHAPTER2
Nico
“Anything else, sir?”
I force a smile at my assistant, Bethany, and hope like hell she doesn’t notice the way my eye twitches at her use of the title. I may be her boss, but I can’t stand the formality that society dictates should come with the position. This is why I insisted on running the Seattle branch of Forza Security from my home and not a stuffy office building. I also refuse to wear a suit and tie, as I much prefer jeans and whatever shirt is clean on any given morning, but that’s beside the point.
“Nope.” I smirk when Bethany fails to hide her disapproval of my casual attitude. Apparently, no one taught her that it’s rude to roll your eyes at the person who signs your paychecks. I’d call her on it if I didn’t find it so amusing. “Why don’t you head home? Those reports can wait until Monday.”
Bethany glances down at her notebook, no doubt mentally calculating how long it will take her to type the notes I dictated to her into the system. Seemingly satisfied that it won’t take too much of her time, she offers a polite smile.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind sta—”
I hold a hand up. “I’m sure, Bethany. I’ve already kept you late enough.”
She stands from her chair and holds her notebook to her chest. “Thank you, sir. Have a good weekend,” she quips before darting out the door.
If she only knew.
I haven’t had a good weekend in I don’t fucking know how long, and this weekend isn’t going to be any different. Unlike Bethany, I can’t walk out the door and turn the work off at the end of the day because I’ve got one case that never stops: my piece of shit twin brother.
Nicholi and I were forced to travel two very different roads in life. I was shipped off to boarding school, exiled from the Family and deemed not good enough. Nicholi was embraced by the Family, groomed and taught to be the brutal man he is today.
I had no contact with my biological family until years after being sent away, when my uncle killed my cousin’s girlfriend. At the time, I didn’t know how Malachi would receive me, but I didn’t care. I had information and he had a reason to act on it. Together, and with the help of his now fiancé’s motorcycle club, we ended our family’s reign of terror.
Oh, and in the process, I met the love of my life. I use the word ‘met’ loosely because we’ve never actually been face to face, but that doesn’t seem to matter. The moment I heard her voice as she was reading me, Malachi, and her club the riot act, I was a goner. Too bad she doesn’t feel the same.
I lift my cell off my desk and open the texting app to see if I’ve missed any messages from Peppermint. I know I haven’t, but I can’t stop myself from checking anyway. It’s become a part of my daily routine, right along with my ‘Morning’ texts to her. I don’t even mind the ‘fuck off’ responses because at least she’s acknowledging me.
Now that Bethany is gone, I decide to switch to my laptop and get out of my home office for a while. I grab everything I’ll need to do my nightly dive into tracking Nicholi and carry it all into the living room of my penthouse apartment.
After dropping it all onto the couch, I start toward the kitchen, but a knock on the door slows me down.
“Come in,” I yell, thinking maybe Bethany forgot something.
