“You want to tell me what your problem is? You’ve glared at me all night like I kicked your prom date.”
Oh, he thought he was funny,sí?
Stopping in his tracks, he faced Texas and curled his corner lip.
He already had shit on his mind with what was happening in Miami, without this aggravation.
“I don’t think so. Can’t be sure you’re not wearing a wire for your bro.”
“Oh, fuck off, Capone,” Texas said. “I’ve said sorry until I’m blue in the goddamn face. I didn’t do anything to you personally.”
“You fucking kidding me with that shit? The club is me. I am the fucking club,Esé.” his fingers flexed inside the sheepskin jacket, buried deep to ward off the cold. It was times like today and this whole frozen month that he missed the warmth of Miami beach. They had one season there and it was magnificent. Denver took some getting used to.
“You voted me out, what more do you want? Me to suck your cock for forgiveness? I did wrong, I admitted that.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“And? Shall I throw a parade because you’re pissed off at me, Capone, what do you want from me?”
The window whirred down and that same dark head popped out, her voice tentatively croaky. “Tait, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, Poppy, close up, baby, you’ll get cold, won’t be a minute.”
“See you landed on your feet.”
“Grow the fuck up, Capone.” Texas sighed.
It was strange seeing him without his usual shirt and thick tie at his neck. Stranger still with the beard. Texas was always groomed like a Disney prince.
Capone hated the betrayal.
Hated more that he didn’t confide in anyone until Arson caught the brother out.
Would he still be a cop informer today if that hadn’t happened?
He just hated it all around and he couldn’t get over his anger for trusting this guy for years.
“You’ve got some balls on you, Texas, to play the wounded victim. Who was going to be next, theSouls? Going to send Rider down the river,sí?”
“Fuck you. Ineverwould. The whole shit I was doing was to protect my fucking club. Always. I would have put my own neck on the line before anyone in the compound.”
The fierce way he spat out the words through his clenched teeth made Capone think for a second he was actually telling the truth or he just believed his own lies.
It was a bad mistake to square off with Capone.
He had a hair trigger ever since he walked into his family’s home and found everyone in a blood bath.
He got into fights regularly—instigated them, then he fell into a bottle to forget his sorrow.
He never backed down from a fight and if Texas wanted to go boot to boot with him then it was going to be the guys funeral.
If only there was some anger in the other man’s voice it might have helped Capone reach that no return moment but Texas’ voice was downgraded to a tortured croak, almost as if he were in pain for his actions. But he’d gone in with his eyes wide open so Capone felt no amount of pity for his predicament now.
“I fucked up, you can hate me all you want, brother, but no one can hate me as much as I fucking loath myself.”
Capone snorted and rolled his eyes.
Pity party of one, he wondered if he were about to get a gift bag.