Page 27 of Diamond In The Rough

“He was an asshole!” I toss her hands off and spin away, only to meet Roscoe’s eyes.

His expression of horror, the final key that unlocks my freakout.

My breath catches, strangling me until my chest shudders. Then fresh tears burst from my eyes and stream along my cheeks. “Oh my god.” I reach up and press my palm to where Micah’s blade would have cut, if given half the chance. “Oh my god! He would have killed me.”

“You’re okay.” Roscoe darts from the crowd and slides into our small huddle, wrapping me in his arms and crushing the side of my face to his thundering chest. He rests his lips on my forehead, and hums, “You’re fine, Ipo. Everything’s fine.”

“He was going to slice me open.”

“He was sending you a warning. No way he was gonna gut you with an audience.”

“Real helpful, Roscoe.” Jazzy yanks me from his arms, pulling me against her much softer chest, and strokes my arm. “He was huffing and puffing, babe. He wanted to make sure you weren’t who he thought you were. But you’re okay.”

“I could have died!” My hands tremble uncontrollably, creating movement in my arms that extends into my ribs. My stomach. My bowels. My knees. “He’s so angry, he would have killed me, simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Babe.” Roscoe’s molten eyes are like liquid in the waning daylight. “You followed him out here. He was setting you free, and you came up on his blindside. Even a regular guy would take issue with that.”

“But he started all this!” I shove away from my friends and stumble along the sidewalk, no clue where I’m going. No idea what I’ll do when I get there. “He started this, Roscoe! He got in my way, and now he’s acting like I’m the bad guy.”

7

MICAH

SHARING THE WEALTH

“You made the paper, dickhead.” Felix stomps across the yard, a mug of coffee in one hand and a fresh newspaper, folded down the middle, in the other. He crushes grass beneath his heavy boots, steps around the mossy pond I dug by hand—years before Pastore mutilated my digits and left me in constant, annoying pain—and as Lix moves, his eyes are all for me.

I watch him from where I stand, by the rhododendrons I meticulously check every damn day to make sure they thrive, despite being nurtured in a yard not particularly suited for the species.

He stops three feet from me and shakes his head. “Front page. And you’re throwing hands with a chick half your size. It’s a bad look.”

“There’s something off about her.” I turn back to my garden and deadhead the spent purple blossoms to make room for more. “I’m not buying what she’s selling.”

He laughs, short and sharp and just irritating enough to make me scowl. “What’s she selling? Seems like she wants nothing to do with you. She didn’t give you the time of day inside CeCe’s, and according to the paper, she wasn’t fawning over you last night either. It would be one thing if she was up in your space, trying to take you to bed. But that’s not what’s going on here.”

“So she’s switching things up.” I snip off a dying shoot and drop the waste to the ground, making a note to come back later and rake up the mess. “Everyone tries the sex kitten thing; she’s smart enough to try something less obvious. That’s her whole game.”

“Dude.” He brings his coffee up and sips. “Women have traipsed in and out of this house for decades. Before last night, you have never held a blade to a dame’s throat.”

Shame bites at the back of mine. “Only because women are rarely a threat to us. We’ve spent our lives defending ourselves against our own father. And when not him, then Pastore or Mancino. They’re all gone now, sure, but you’re naïve to think their absence guarantees peace for us.”

“And you’re too fucking tightly-strung for safety. Wilkes isn’t the threat you think he is, and that chick from the club is doomed to a lifetime of therapy because you were feeling antsy. Hey!” He grabs my wrist before I chop an entirely healthy chunk from my plant.

Dragging me around, his stare burns into mine. “I get it. For half our lives, it’s been me and you. After Arch and Tim left, it was us raising Cato and watching each other’s backs while our father fucked us over every chance he had. It has always been me and you. But now shit is changing. Our father is dead, and Arch got hitched. Cato moved to Copeland. Pastore is finally done. Now Christabelle is part of the family, and?—”

“This isn’t about Christabelle.” I step away and move toward the agapanthus border that damn near dies on me every winter. “She’s cool, Lix. I like her.”

“So what’s the problem? Why are you taking all your frustrations out on some chick you don’t even know? Of all us Malones, I gotta be honest: I’m surprised you’re the one acting a fool right now.”

“It’s called intuition.” I crouch to study the purple flowers that the aggies have on show. The deep green leaves, and the circle of color that declare summer every single year. “I’ve had to rely on it my whole life, Lix. To survive. To protect you and Cato. My fucking job is to make sure we live. So when I look into Tiia Hale’s eyes and I get that feeling in my stomach that says something is going on, then I gotta listen to it. Because if I don’t, chances are, someone who matters to me will pay the price.”

“Okay, well…” He remains standing, looking down at me, while thirty feet away, his oversized puppy gallops on the grass and leaves burn marks behind when he pees. “In a city of nearly nine million people, including enemies who would have us dead, and businesses who protect us, purely because of the protection our existence offers them… with all that noise around us and all those threats, you’ve zeroed in on this one woman. That’s what you’re telling me?”

“I’m not trying to zero in on her.” I dig the tip of my cutters into the base of an overcrowded agapanthus, split the whole thing in half, and gently tug the excess out of the spongy ground. “She was at CeCe’s on a Wednesday, when it’s reasonably common knowledge that I’m not at the club those nights, but that you often are. And your relationship with Cannon is still fresh enough that people are gonna try to find the chink in your armor. But you just want me to accept Hale’s little lost sheep act?”

I push up straight and gently set my agapanthus on the grass for transplant. “She’s no sheep, Lix. And she’s not afraid. She probably thinks she’s got me convinced, after coming at me last night, when really?—”

“Her brass balls only confirmed what you think you already know.” Again, he brings his coffee up and sips. “Yeah, I got you. But your theory comes with holes.”

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