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And I lose it. I cry for about an hour before I can tell her about everything that took place. I blubber it all out and Bailey just listens, nodding and handing me toilet paper to dry my eyes and blow my nose.

When I am done, she holds me and lets me cry a little longer, rubbing my back. “So are you guys done?” she asks me hesitantly as I start to wind down.

I shrug, wiping my face. “I feel like I should say yes, but—and I know it’s stupid and it’s soon—but I have a lot of feelings for him,” I say.

“Babe, it’s not stupid,” Bailey soothes. “You’re scared.”

I nod. “Like I was reasoning if it was really so bad, you know? But I promised myself I wouldn’t get caught up in that shit. That was how our lives got fucked up in the first place, with assholes breaking the law.”

“Yeah, Viv, but that was different,” Bailey says.

“How?” I ask her, desperate to hear the difference that might make it okay. “Like, my mom was a prostitute and a drug addict, and my father was a fucking pimp and a hustler.”

“Yeah, but come on, that’s not what Declan is doing,” she says. “He’s letting people gamble in a room. I go to the convenience store and there are fuckers there all day playing keno and scratching tickets.”

“Yeah, but that’s legal,” I remind her.

“Look, Viv, I know you want to be the polar opposite of the degenerates that brought you into this world, and I do too. But to be honest, following the law hasn’t always put us in the best situations if you will recall,” she reminds me.

I chew my lip and nod. There were some people who were foster parents and social workers who were just barely better than my mother. Then there were others who were way, way worse.

“All I am saying is, you don’t have to throw Declan and what you two have out because you made some moral decision when you were just trying to survive. You made yourself promises to get yourself through the tough times; you made decisions based on the awful that surrounded you. Things change, situations change. And hey, some of the best people I’ve ever encountered have been a little outside the legal limit, you know?”

I shrug, not sure if she is right or if she is just saying what will make me feel better.

“Viv, just take some time and think about how you feel. Think about how he’s treated you, how you feel when you are with him. Because that tells you more than how he runs his businesses ever will.”

I huff out a breath and lean my chin to my knees that I have drawn up to my chest. I tilt my head sideways. “I’m so glad you were home tonight. I love you,” I tell her.

Bailey tears up now. “Oh Viv,” she says and gathers me in her arms. “I love you, babe. I will always be there for you.”

I squeeze Bailey into a hug, and the shift in our weight sends the futon collapsing to the floor again. Bailey and I freeze, and then we both start laughing uncontrollably.

“And take that into consideration too,” she says to me. “Any man that can make a metal futon fall apart with sex needs to be given some grace in other areas.”

Oh, Bailey. She can always make me feel better when times seem too dark to find a way out.

Chapter 31

DECLAN

Igive Vivian her space. She has worked every night since the evening we were together, and I knew she was taking the bus, going to work, and coming home to sleep. There wouldn’t have been a ton of time for us to be together anyway.

But just because I know all of that doesn’t stop me from driving to her building every evening to watch her get on the bus and follow it to the hospital, then doing the same thing in the morning in reverse. She’d been attacked near her place, and I need to make sure she stays safe. At least that’s what I tell myself as a reasonable excuse for my behavior.

It is fucking torture watching her and not being able to get close to her. I ache when I see her face and how pale she looks. Is she resting enough? And what about food—is she eating? Andwhen the fuck have I ever cared whether or not a woman has eaten?

Since Vivian, that’s when.

My brothers have searched hospitals within a hundred-mile radius and have come up empty on a gunshot victim with a leg wound having come in recently. We have no idea who the fuckers are that broke into my father’s house, and I feel certain it wasn’t an isolated crime.

My head is absolutely spinning between Vivian, the revelation that my father has a degenerative disorder that he has kept from us for over a year, and the fact that he is wanting me to take over the businesses within months. I also can’t shake that something more is going on with my dad that he hasn’t admitted to.

I don’t feel right about hiding the MS thing from my brothers, but my father insists he just wants to get a treatment plan all set. He wants to have his ducks in a row before he shares it with them. He wants to be able to answer their questions. I agreed to his plan, but it still doesn’t feel right.

I need to talk to Axel and Slade about me being the head if Dad retires too. Dad has assured me he has talked to them, but a man has to have the discussion himself. I also am not sure I want it all. I’m not sure I can shoulder the whole burden without my brothers.

Monday morning comes, and after I watch Vivian enter her fucking horror movie of an apartment building, I drive my route, checking on the buildings I need to. By midmorning, I head to meet with my brothers back at our house to talk.

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