Page 56 of King of Sinners

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mason

The entire day, I’m trying to escape the pit of my stomach reaction that something is wrong.

I shouldn’t feel this way.

My permits are pushed through in record time, everyone who needs to sign being present and accounted for, all inspections happening without a hitch.

By the end of the day, I’m the proud owner of digging rights in the Las Vegas sand.

This is a day I’ve spent two years preparing for and I should be ecstatic. But that pit of dread won’t go away.

Roman is sitting next to me in the back seat of the car and he’s been unusually quiet as well, especially considering the major victory we just had.

But I can’t focus on him, or the fact that my family thinks I’m losing my mind, because my thoughts are consumed by Charlotte.

She was different this morning and I don’t like it.

The guards she’d been letting down were back up and stronger than ever. Worse still, she was asking questions.

About my motivations. About the future.

None of them had nice answers. I scrub a hand through my hair, rubbing at my face. Roman looks over at me with a frown. “Are you going to tell me why you’re in a shit mood after the day you just had?”

We might be brothers, but we don’t exactly talk about feelings. “Probably not.”

“Did you take my advice?”

I don’t need to ask what he’s referring to. “I don’t want to talk about Charlotte.”

“I do,” he turns toward me then.

“Too bad.”

He goes on like I haven’t spoken at all. “Either you did not take my advice, in which case you are sexually frustrated, or the two of you got into some kind of fight.”

“Neither,” I say through gritted teeth.

His brows raise then. “Do tell.”

“No.”

Jackson’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. I don’t take the limo on days like this because it’s too ostentatious. When the inspectors see a vehicle like that, they will apply themselves to taking you down a peg or two and find a reason to create more red tape. They’ve got their own egos and who can blame them for wanting to take arrogant pricks down a peg? But right about now, I’d give anything for a privacy screen.

“Are you upset about that thing with the professor yesterday?” Jackson asks. “I can hire someone to have him killed. I’ve still got those old school connections from our mob days.”

“The professor?” Roman asks, leaning forward, looking at Jackson and not me. He knows where he’ll get answers. “What happened with the professor?”

“He got really handsy with Charlotte.” Jackson answers for me. I swear, I’m going to punch them both when this car stops.

“And how did that make you feel?” Roman asks like he’s my fucking therapist.

“Like I’m going to beat the shit out of you if you don’t stop talking.”

Both Jackson and Roman laugh.

“I can fire you,” I snarl at Jackson.

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