Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Ellie peered up at me and scrunched her nose. “What’s a case? Like the bag for my doll clothes?”
I chuckled under my breath and dipped down to kiss the top of her head. “Just a joke between Daddy and me. Go inside and get cozy for a movie you can fall asleep to.”
“Okaaay.” She trailed inside.
I had no plans to linger, so I was just gonna give West the barest amount of information. “I had a work thing come up. Shouldn’t be more than three hours, tops.”
“A work thing.” He folded his arms across his chest, clearly not believing me. “A work thing at almost midnight. Sounds very legit.”
“You should meet people who work on call,” I said. “We can fight about this later, though. Trip asked me to come back when I’m done, but chances are they’ll be dead to the world by then. Can you tell them I stopped by, and then I’ll be here bright and early in the morning? I can bring bagels.”
He frowned and straightened a little, and he gave my clothes a brief once-over. Nothing much to look at, just jeans and a hoodie.
“What’re you going to do?” he demanded.
I gave him a look. Like I was gonna give him specifics?
As Finn was quick to point out—certain details could be shared with your wife. Or husband. Whatever. If you trusted them with your life, if it was a gesture of goodwill to someone who could keep a secret. You gave a spouse a hand, never an arm.
West wasn’t my spouse, and I honestly wasn’t sure he wouldn’t use some information against me.
He sighed, impatient and frustrated. “Will you be in danger?”
Aw. Was he worried?
“I’ll be fine. But I appreciate your concern.” I smiled, because I was a dick.
He rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Alfie.” He stepped back and grabbed the door, so I guessed our moment was over. “If you end up in prison, I’ll tell our children you died.” With that said, he shut the door in my face, and I was no longer smiling.
Thanks, honey.
I swallowed my unease and went back to my car.
I received two messages on my way back to the city. One from Kellan, letting me know where to pick him up before we went across the river, and one from West.
You will come back here if that’s what you told Trip. You can lie all you want to me, but you won’t break the promise you made to our son.
He really did view me as a shitty dad, didn’t he?
I could cry in my ice cream about that later.
By the time I picked up Kellan outside his building at Rittenhouse Square, I was blasting Irish punk rock, and—what the fuck? I did a double take at the baseball bat he threw in the back.
He turned down the volume a little, then lit up a smoke and rolled down the window. “Don’t swallow your tongue. Drive.”
I pulled away from the curb on autopilot and tightened my grip on the wheel. This was normal, I reminded myself. I had no reason to react to a baseball bat. Hell, he was already carrying a gun. A bat was nothing in comparison. Right? Unless he had plans on using it.
“Anything you wanna tell me about tonight?” I asked.
He nodded and adjusted his suspenders. Always dressed for a catwalk, that one. Nice charcoal pants, a burgundy button-down that fit him like a glove, expensive leather shoes, and suspenders.
“Little bit of background info—you know of JJ Doyle,” he said.
“Yeah. Crew boss.” Part of the younger generation. Our generation.
Kellan inclined his head. “There are no problems with him and his kid brother—but their cousins? JJ recruited them last year, and we’ve about had it with them. JJ’s gonna kick up to Finn for the headache. It’s already settled. No drama.”
Okay, so Tony and Colby were Doyle’s cousins, and they were the ones currently—allegedly—drunk while waiting on a shipment with one of our many Mikeys. Got it.
“What kind of headaches are we talking about?” I wondered.
He puffed out a breath and flicked ashes out the window. “Constantly late, drink too much, refuse to grow up, can’t shoulder responsibility for shit, and, to add to Finn’s list, they never show up at Mass.”
The last one was hardly a deal-breaker, but fine, as the tiny cherry on top…
“Is it wise to let them handle shipments?” I asked.
He grinned to himself. “Clearly not. JJ’s gonna think twice about who he approves in the future. But it worked out for us—we turned it into a test. Red Mikey’s gonna handle the shipment while we handle the cousins.”
Handle the cousins…
I cleared my throat and checked the rearview. “Are you using the bat?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said pensively. “We try not to use violence on guys under eighteen.”
Fuck me. I was gonna need a smoke myself.