Page 27 of Fourteen Years

All we knew was that Nick had always been single and never even had a date with a woman that we knew of. If he took women home for the night, we never heard about it, and neither did anyone else.

I shrugged, deciding to focus on one friend for the evening.

“I’m just waiting to make sure Monica’s sure.” I finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

“There’s a lot of history there.” Lucas agreed. “But according to Becks, Monica is getting frustrated herself.” He smirked, lifting his own drink. “Monica talks too.” He tapped his glass of bourbon against my water bottle, cockily.

Monica was frustrated?

I blew out a breath, running a hand through my hair, as Lucas and Nick started talking about something down at the police station. Maybe I was being too careful and it was time to just go for it. Every time things had gotten heated the last month and I’d pulled back she had seemed increasingly snippy with me.

I really had been trying to be considerate. Maybe I’d do us both a favor and quit stopping us. I’d been waiting for some major signal from her. Some blatant “pass go” sign. Monica had never been that way though.

“You and Becks have plans for Friday?” I asked, not even aware of what part of their conversation I’d interrupted.

Lucas and Nick both stared at me.

“I think we’re free?” Lucas responded. “Becks has been tired earlier in the evenings. We just keep it chill at home. What’s up?”

“Think you all could let the girls have a sleepover?”

Lucas smirked as Nick finished his beer.

“I think we can make that work.”

“Mon and I will have to return the favor.” I nodded.

Nick started laughing.

“Never imagined you all would be at the point in your lives you needed to find childcare to hook up.” He teased, good-naturedly.

Lucas laughed and picked up their conversation from before I’d interrupted.

Yeah. Childcare was going to be necessary for what I had planned for Monica.

I smiled and finished my water.

Chapter 15

“So, you’re still talking to the daughter like I told you to?

My eyes jerked up to meet my son’s across the dimly lit folding table in the trailer where we lived.

Using a razor I worked on cutting more cocaine into portions on the mirror I had laid out. I smirked, lining up the scale and mini bags to portion everything out. Jackson was squirming, clearly uncomfortable.

Pussy.

“Yes. But I’m not getting anywhere. She keeps saying she doesn’t feel that way about me. I can’t keep doing this. Her mom hangs out with cops. Her stepdad used to be a cop.”

“Her fucking stepdad got what was coming to him. Should have taken out that fucking Marshall and his old lady too.”

I’d sold to one of their victims, Larry, while he’d been local. He’d been one of my best customers and I was still pissed at the loss of a client.

Jackson quieted and I stared up at him.

“Unless you’re ready to work these streets you’ll keep doing what I fucking tell you. You know the consequences if you don’t.”

Jackson glared at me. Fucking brat thought he was better than this. Better than us. I don’t know why I hadn’t gotten rid of him long before now.