Page 108 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

My jaw clenches in fury as my body goes rigid. Looking up to Mav, I see similar sentiments echoing within his demeanor.

“Joanna,” she continues, “she had me follow your brother on occasion as well. Specifically, when he’s with your friend.”

“Are you the one giving them to the Feds and the Russians?” Mav asks, his tone surprisingly compassionate in this moment.

Val shakes her head vigorously. “No. Mav, I swear. I just take the pictures. Everything I snap gets turned over to her and then she does what she wants with them from there.”

He looks to her, his gaze softening as he slowly nods his head. “And this guy that’s helping her, the one in the video, have you ever seen him before?”

She shakes her head, staring down into her lap as she continuously wrings her hands.

Mav crouches down to her level, commanding her attention. “I’m going to need the address you woke up at and the exact date this all went down. Understand?” Val nods, her nerves still evident in how she shifts her body in her seat. “In the meantime,” Mav continues, “you will continue to keep up appearances. Take pictures, give them to her. But moving forward you’ll only follow us when I say it is okay. Same with Nicky and Daphne. And under no circumstances are you to clue Amber in. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” her voice rushes out in relief. “Yes, of course, Mav. I’m so sorry. I should have come to you. I was just so scared. I still am.”

“I will figure out how to get that tape. I will bury it. You won’t have to worry about anything. But Val? This is your one free pass. I hope you don’t need me to tell you what happens if you cross me again.”

“I won’t let you down, Maverick. I promise.” Her voice comes out earnest, as though Maverick’s promises of ending this nightmare have instilled a sense of hope, outshining the fear that bitch Amber’s been invoking within her for far too long.

She turns her attention back to me. “Joanna, I’m so sorry. There are pictures from last night in the parking garage. I—”

I shake my head, my gesture silencing her. “You’re a victim in this. She took advantage of you. That ends today.” Val smiles at my words, her shoulders relaxing on a sigh. “And for future reference? My friends call me Jonsie.”

CHAPTER 47

MAV

I pull up to our building in Killington for my Parley with Nicky. We’re both riding solo today, which is risky considering four days ago I tried to kill him. However, if either of us are going to come out of this shit storm we’ve spent the last four years wading through in one piece, we unfortunately need to accept the fact that we need each other.

I did offer to bring J, but she passed. She’s not ready to see him. The sting of Nicky’s betrayal is still too fresh.

I don’t blame her. To be honest, it’s still a fifty-fifty chance of whether or not I take another shot at the douche. I guess we’ll see how I feel once I lay eyes on him.

I enter through the side door, making my way to the conference room where I find him posted up, sitting atop the long oversized table. I give him a quick once over, noticing he had the same thought as me today, forgoing that suit and tie bullshit altogether.

Over the years Nicky and I have had to adapt. Morph into powerhouses that could withstand the brunt of whatever came crashing our way. One lesson we learned? If you’re going to sit at the table with world renowned criminals for negotiations, you can’t do it in jeans and a band tee.

Yet, that’s who we are today sitting in this room together. Nicky’s donning his ripped black skinny jeans with an excessive number of safety pins holding the holes together. His white tee’s topped with a jean jacket that’s had the sleeves cut off, leaving gaping holes in the sides. The blue denim fabric is covered with various patches repping the names of eighties punk bands. As much I wanna crack on him, I know J would be happy to see him looking more like his old self. He’s unique, if nothing else.

I stroll in much more low key. Black jeans, black Vans, black tee, rocking my black aviators. We don’t have to play pretend with one another by hiding behind those high-power gangster façades because though our differences may be vast, Nicky and I share an origin story. No bullshit, I think that’s why we struggle so much with each other. At our core, we’re essentially the same person, and we know that. Yet when we look at one another, we don’t like what we see. It’s as though the universe is forcing us to stare in a mirror that highlights all our flaws, which makes it hard to be in the same room together at times.

Nicky glances over at me just as I remove my sunglasses on approach.

“Yo,” he briefly acknowledges me before his gaze returns to straight ahead.

I come to stop several feet from him, leaning back against the opposing wall. “How’s the shoulder?” I eye him curiously.

“Fucking hurts.” A slight scoff escapes him as he reaches up, pulling the collar of his shirt aside and exposing his bandage.

“Good.” I continue to eye him as I drop down into one of the high back leather seats.

“That’s fair.” He nods, slipping from the table into a matching chair as he turns to face me. “How’s my sister?”

My gaze holds his as I release a long sigh. “I know shit was tense the other day, but regardless of what was said, if you wanna talk to your sister then call her, Nick. I wouldn’t expect you to actually ask me for permission to speak to her.”

“I wasn’t planning on asking you.” His face scrunches up as though I’m insane for even suggesting such a ridiculous notion before dropping once more in defeat. “But she blocked my number, so I have no way of getting her. Daph isn’t talking to me much either these days.”

“The only thing shocking about that last bit is it took you hurting Jones to earn the silent treatment from Daph. You just continue to fuck up with her, I’m surprised she didn’t drop your ass a long time ago.”

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