Page 42 of Ruthless Son

“We haven’t officially met,” he held his hand out, “and I hear I have you to thank for fixing my brother up.”

I wasn’t used to this much appreciation. Back home, I’d get a ‘thanks’ and hopefully five minutes to rest my feet before moving on to the next patient. Sometimes, there was no gratitude at all, even if you spent days watching over a patient. I never let it bother me, considering this was the job I signed up for, but there was something about all of the recognition that had my chest puffing up. Every single brother, including Callahan, had approached me and thanked me for what I did for Sly last night, and… I really liked it.

“I just did my job.” Shaking his hand, I smiled back.

“Well, make sure Rex here shows you our appreciation.”

Rex snorted a laugh, and I glared at him, my cheeks flushing bright red.

“I have most definitely shown her how much I appreciate her.” He squeezed me against him, my eyes rolling at the underlying bragging in his grin.

Sonic’s return grin was knowing. “It’ll be nice to have someone as capable as you around.”

We both froze, our bodies pressed against each other, tension arising at Sonic’s suggestive comment. Was he implying that I was staying? Because that wasn’t something that was being taken into consideration, and I especially wasn’t staying just because Rex and I had had sex last night. He could lay all the hickeys on my body as much as he liked, he could wrap his arms around me and kiss me in front of his friends to make it clear whose bed I was in, but any long term plans to stay weren’t in the cards.

His eyes darted between us, noticing the tautness in our embrace, and Sonic’s smile turned more polite than anything. “Anyway, prez wants a meeting in ten to go over everything.” With a final nod toward me, he walked away to join Cal at the bar, who was nursing a large cup of something steaming, which reminded me that I never got my coffee from Wendy.

That bitch.

“You know it wouldn’t be so bad.” I faced Rex, having to crane my neck to look up at him. “Staying here, I mean. Your sister likes it here, and it wouldn’t be hard to change up your visa…”

“Don’t.” I held my hand up, covering his lips before he said something we might not be able to come back from. “Just… don’t. OK? Let’s call this for what it is, a holiday… fling or fun… or something, but I’m going home as soon as this dust has settled and I make sure Millie is either safe here or on that plane next to me.”

A cold glint lit his eyes, his arm falling away to hang loose beside him and he stepped back. His warmth left me and I didn’t like the icy glare that was directed my way, but my choices wouldn’t change no matter how much he hated them.

“That’s how it is, huh? A fling…”

“Rex, look…” I reached out, wanting to ease the coldness from him and bring back the Rex that touched me with such… care. He maneuvered out of my way, walking toward the door without a backward glance, and I had to watch him walk away from me.

Before he reached the door, it opened, the sunshine blinding behind the figure who stormed in.

Kannon and Millie rushed forward, my sister’s face was as white as a sheet and Kannon glared at everyone in his path. His face like thunder, he stalked toward Callahan at the bar. “We need to talk Prez.”

Rex

“Are you sure?” I leaned forward, elbows digging into the wood, trying to figure out how the fuck this happened.

“Of course I’m fucking sure,” Kannon growled.

“I get you’re sure, brother. But is she?” We had to make sure what he’d just sprung on us in church was real, because if it was, this just brought a whole new level of shit to our plate.

The road captain looked as worried as I’d ever seen him. “She’s sure, Sarge. And I trust her.”

“Well, hell!” Sonic leaned back in his seat, his head thrown back against the leather and sighed, his eyes closed against the knowledge that the suit guy—the man who had been funding the purchase of our own drugs and bringing them back to our town was none other than the right-hand man of our very own mayor, Frederich Whitmore. “That muthafucker.” Sonic’s fist slammed against the table, the strength of his anger making the wood shake.

“As soon as she saw him she started freaking out, I had to get her outta there,” Kannon started softly. “She was shaking, she didn’t know who he was, just recognized his face as the man that Mickey had met up with.”

“Don’t tell her who he is just yet.” Kannon looked curiously at Cal. “Tell her we’re investigating who he is, we don’t need every Tom, Dick and fucking Harry knowing that Miles fucking Rutter is a drug pusher, not until we know for sure whether he’s working on his own or if the Mayor knows anything.”

“Jesus Christ. That would explain so much,” I muttered. “The Mayor has had it in for us since he took the seat. Bringing our own drugs back into town, contaminating them and having people die on our watch would immediately turn the townsfolk against us.”

“And once the people turn their backs on us, our legitimate business dries up, no more pushing bodies, no more insurance deals, we’d have to figure out another way to clean the money,” Cal said, the brothers looking more and more angry at the realization that our home, our livelihood was in jeopardy. “I ain’t leaving my home that I’ve built, that we’ve built together. And Jenna would have my ass if I even so much as mentioned moving.”

Shouts of aggression followed by slams of hands had us riled up, there was no way we would be pushed out of our home… our town. “The people know us, they know we wouldn’t let these drugs kill our own.” My voice carried over the ruckus, the anger dying down to nods of agreement. “We find this Miles Rutter, we deal with him.”

“We need proof that the mayor is behind it, but knowing that slimy fucking weasel, it’s well hidden. The people won’t believe it without evidence,” Prez started. “Sly’s laid up in bed but he can still use a fucking laptop, get him one and get him into Rutter’s financials. There must be some paper trail linking the two.”

“Of course there is, he’s Whitmore’s lawyer, they’ll just use that to excuse any money transferred between them,” I countered. “We need more proof than that, pictures, witnesses, their drug den… where are they cutting the white stuff? If we can link that place to Whitmore, no one can argue anything.”

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