Page 57 of Prince of Pain

I snorted, giving him the side-eye. “My lack of emotional control comes from my addiction issues.”

“We’re all a little angry. You were pretty placid until you found the party scene, but you still had a temper.”

“It’s hard. I wish I’d never done it,” I murmured, and he nudged my shoulder with his.

“Hey, I say the same thing daily to myself. It’s a tempting lifestyle, and we got too deep.”

“What was your drug of choice?”

“Started as weed and coke, turned into ice. I still cave and have the occasional joint when I’m having a bad day,” he admitted, making me smile sadly.

“Me too. It takes the edge off.”

“Is that why you’re struggling at the moment? Have you been smoking? Took me a while to find the right balance. You’re still pretty new at the sober thing, so you might be pushing yourself too early.”

“I don’t think so. I’m just sleeping badly and I’m unfocused,” I shrugged, and he sighed.

“Because you’re busy focusing on Tempest?”

“Yeah. I’ve put my foot down with her, and I’ll ask you guys to help instead of handling her myself. I don’t want to go back to rehab, but I will if it gets bad again. I’ve come too far to fuck it up over her,” I said firmly, a grin spreading across his face as he ruffled my hair.

“You’re a smart kid. Fuck knows where you got that from.”

“Definitely Mom,” I teased, laughing as he gave me a playful shove.

“Little shit. I need to check in at the warehouse. Want to come?”

I didn’t usually tag along for crew stuff, I had zero interest in it, but I was enjoying spending time with him, so I nodded.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

He got to his feet and offered me his hand to pull me up, then we handed our eye protection and bats back in on the way out the door.

I drove to the warehouse, enjoying the breeze coming through the windows as Marco texted. It was a comfortable silence between us, and after all the energy I’d just burned, it was nice to just relax.

Once I’d parked, we wandered into the massive warehouse and headed to the office, opening the door to find Mom glaring at a stack of papers like they offended her.

“Problem?” Marco chuckled as he walked over and kissed her cheek, picking up one of the papers to run his eyes over it. “This hasn’t been done yet?”

Mom looked ready to murder him over that question, but she paused when she noticed me. “Ry? What are you doing here? You okay?”

“We went to the rage room, and Mark decided it was bring your kid to work day,” I grinned, moving closer to glance at the paperwork. “What’s all this? Didn’t know criminal organizations had paperwork.”

“We have legit businesses,” she replied dryly, motioning to one of the smaller stacks on the table. “Half of this is for our investments. Between taxes, official documents, and expenses, it’s a fucking mess. We moved most of our paperwork here since we do most other things at the shed now. There’s more room here, and it’s quieter to think.”

“Isn’t this where you store all your guns and drugs?”

“Eh, sometimes. We’ve got multiple locations and don’t store things in the same place for long. The warehouse became more of an extended office. I keep most of our real estate paperwork here too. It was organized until it wasn’t,” she huffed.

“Want me to sort it? I’m dumb as shit with taxes, but I can read what's real estate and what's not. I can sort them into stacks of categories for you,” I offered, earning a suspicious look.

“What’s in it for you?”

“You don’t come home mad tonight and glare at everyone, and I get to occupy my brain for a bit,” I shrugged, her face softening.

“You said Mark took you to the rage room? Are you having a really bad day?”

“A little, but I’m better now. I just don’t want to get bored.”

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