Page 9 of Bad Boy Next Door
“What the fuck, Shane!” I yelled.
“Thanks, Nicky.” Shane’s gaze darted around to our brothers instead of me. “You saved my ass. Those guys were going to kill me.”
“Why, Shane? Why were they after you?”
“Have a beer, Brute Squad.” Keagan said, using their stupid nickname for me. He offered me his bottle, and I grabbed it.
“How the hell do I know?” Shane’s entire body shook. “What did you tell the cops?”
“I didn’t mention you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I took a long swig of the beer, and the cold liquid shaved a few degrees off my anger.
Shane’s body visibly relaxed for an instant, going limp before his leg started bouncing again.
I pointed my bottle at him. “You can’t bring your shit to my work like that, Shane.Ever. You’re going to get me fired.”
“Why do you want that shit job, anyway?” Keagan grabbed another beer from his fridge. “You know you’ve always got a place in our business.”
“Fuck you, Keag.” I dropped into the empty chair next to Shane’s. “You know I want to go legit.”
“Legit?” Mac laughed. “Get off your high horse, Nicky. You work in a fucking strip club owned by gangsters. Don’t act like you’re better than us.”
I knew what I was. A thug. I wasn’t delusional. Thug was the only job I was qualified for and given my size, I could often wield my god-given talent without even throwing a punch. My size had made me useful to my brothers, but that didn’t mean I wanted any part of their schemes. Not anymore. My strip club job wasn’t what many would call savory, but it was legal.
“I show up. Do my hours. Get paid. Sounds legit to me.” I drowned my frustration with the rest of the beer, then dropped the empty, letting it clatter on the terra-cotta tile floor.
“Don’t I always give you your share?” Keagan reclaimed his alpha position in front of the fireplace.
“Poor Nicky.” Mac mimed crying. “Couple of years inside and he got scared straight.”
“Fuck you,” I tossed a beer cap at my brother. “Just because I don’t want to do more time doesn’t mean I’m scared. It’s about the life I want.”
“What life is that?” Mac laughed. “Wiping jizz off a strip club floor?”
“I don’t wipe…” I shook my head. Mac was pushing my buttons on purpose. And I was making it easy.
Even after my last major growth spurt—when they changed the name they used to tease me from Shrimp to Brute Squad—my older brothers still had a way of making me small.
My brothers weren’t bad guys, nothing like what you’d call gangsters, but a lot of what we’d done to earn money was well on the wrong side of the law. My brothers and I had lines we wouldn’t cross—we never killed anyone, we weren’t greedy and never stole from someone who couldn’t afford to take the hit—but that didn’t change the fact we were criminals.
And if we got caught we’d end up inside, like our dad. I was done with it.
Of the five of us, Shane was the only one who’d never done real time. My stint had been in juvie—no adult record—and I’d been out now for nearly five years, but the time inside had been enough.
“That’s the last time, Shane.” I pointed toward my brother. “The very last. Do not show up at the club again. I won’t let you get me fired.”
“Your job’s more important than your brother?” he shook his head. “You’d let me getkilled?”
I stood and towered over Shane. “Just try me.”
Mac jumped up and draped his arm over my back. “Come on, Nicky. Chill. Have another beer.” He nudged me back to my chair and went to the fridge for more bottles, handing them around.
“Some brother you are,” Shane said. “Where’s your loyalty?”
“Where’s yours?” I shot back. “You think you’re showing loyalty when you fuck up my job? Show up with a gun?”
“You have a gun?” Keagan glared at Shane, who visibly shrank.
“I got rid of it,” he said.
