Page 125 of Love Thy Brother
“He’s down, boss.” Folk’s quiet voice skimmed the surface of my bad daze. “No drama. Just sweeping the room before we shut it down.”
Cam said something. His dark jacket blurred as he bent over the coffee table, back to me, oblivious to the black hole my brain was sinking into.
Folk said my name.
It took every-fucking-thing I had to face him. “Yeah?”
He gave me aSaintlook. “Here’s the other bag. For the paperwork.”
The cash. Blindly, I took the bag and moved closer to Cam. Folk disappeared and I crouched down, bringing myself eye-level with the product Cam was sweeping into the holdall.
I reached for the first roll of notes and threw it in the backpack. A grand. And another and another.I’m in the wrong game.
A faint, hysterical laugh bubbled up my throat. I covered it with a cough and grabbed more money, loading the bag until there was none left on the table.
Check the floor. The couch. His pockets.
Fuck’s sake. I did my job. Dude bro had another five hundred stuffed in his jeans. A monkey, in Rubi’s confused vernacular, and thinking about him—about where we’d be when we left this place behind—brought me calm that was easier to find than I deserved.
I dropped the last roll of notes into the bag and zipped it up as Cam rose from his stooped position, stretching his back with a crack and a groan. An old joke about elderly cats flitted through my mind, but the punchline never came.
My gaze fell on a flash of white on the carpet.
He’d missed a couple of bags.
More than a couple. A handful lay by my foot, and the easy calm Rubi had gifted me by merely existing evaporated.
Don’t do it.But the frantic plea my soul threw out fell on deaf ears. I wanted Rubi. Ilovedhim. But for reasons I’d never understand, I wanted this more.
With Cam’s back still turned, I scooped the bags up and shoved them in my pocket.
22
RUBI
I saw him. The tortured haze in his eyes. The shady look he sent Cam before he swiped the bagged-up powder from the grotty beige carpet.
Pain lanced my chest. For him. For me. My heart broke a thousand times, and my temper became a monster that barged into the room and ripped every death wrap of poison from his damn fucking pocket.
But I didn’t do it.
Icouldn’tfuckingdo it, because I had shit even worse than my worst nightmare to deal with and a split-second window to do it.
A part of me died and I blocked River out, focusing on Cam. “Get the fuck out of here. Go back to the bikes.”
Cam’s frown was instant. “What? Why?”
“Just do it.” I pointed at the way he and River had entered the house. “We’ll catch you up.”
Confusion deepened Cam’s glare. Then concern. “What is it?”
“Nothing you want to see, bro. Just fuck off. Please? For me?”
For himself, but that wasn’t an argument I’d ever win with my oldest friend.
I made myself catch River’s shifty gaze, praying that for once he heard everything I wasn’t saying.
Help me.
