Page 36 of Sinful Sorrow

“Yeah, I?—”

“Halle-fuckin-lujah! Archer Malone, is that you calling me? Micah!” I hear the thump of a fist against my other brother’s shoulder. “He’s calling us! Is it my birthday?”

I roll my eyes and press my head back against the window. Lord knows, Felix knows how to inflict pain deep in the darkest recesses of my brain.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” I groan. “Why do you have to be so loud?”

“See?” Aubree murmurs. “What did I say about him?”

“Oh, you have an audience?” Felix chuckles. “Must be my lucky day. You wanna come to dinner, Arch? Bring my sister-in-law over to the house so I can see your faces.”

“Your house… in New York?” I firm my lips and count the hours in my head. “It’s, what? Eight o’clock there? And the flight is six hours, assuming we leave right this second. You wanna have dinner at two in the fucking morning?”

“Breakfast, then?” He flashes a wide, arrogant smile. I see it, despite this not being a video call. “Or we can come to you. Time change gets us there around eleven. Late dinner at your place?”

“Or maybe you eat dinner at yours, and I’ll eat dinner at mine. And you stop speaking for a minute so I can get to my point.”

“But the sooner I let you get to your point, the sooner our conversation ends and you hang up. I miss you, Arch. Is it a crime for me to want to see you?”

“Speaking of crimes.” Fuck it, a man in my position has to take any segue offered. “I’ve got something I wanna ask you. And I need the truth.”

“I was busy at the time of the incident you’re inquiring about.”

“Lix—”

“I have CCTV footage to prove I was nowhere near your crime scene, and a receipt for coffee from a local café, thus, busting your accusation wide open. My alibi is tight and our brotherhood remains intact. Does that cover everything?”

“It covers literally nothing, actually.” I draw a deep breath and stop short of exhaling with a whispered fuck alongside it. “There’s some talk over here about a family doing business.”

Like a switch, he turns deadly serious. “In Copeland?”

“Yes, in Copeland. Is it you? The truth,” I remind him. “I need to know, because if it is, then you have the power to fix things. And if it isn’t, then we have a problem on our hands.”

“It’s not me. Malones pulled outta Copeland way back when Dad was running things. He was making moves about twelve years back to reignite that shit.”

“Twelve years ago?”

“Yeah, but by that point, you and Tim had settled in and made a life for yourselves. Dad was gonna smoke you out and cause a ruckus: join us or suffer. But Micah and I were able to shuffle things while he wasn’t looking.”

“You shuffled…” Stunned, I look down at my shoes. “Twelve years ago, he was coming for us, and you stepped in the way? Why?”

“Because we love you, Stupid. And you made a choice not to be here. He was gonna force your hand, so Micah and I did what we do. Now here we are, and you love us too. Who is starting a fire in Copeland now? Because I’m telling you, Arch, I still carry scars from keeping that city clean for my brothers. If someone else is messing that shit up, I’m gonna deal with it. With a fuckin’ flamethrower.”

“It’s really not Malone?” I honestly don’t know what I’d prefer. That it is my brother, doing business in the city I carry a badge in. Or that it’s not him, which means I keep him safe from Gaines’ focus. “You swear?”

“Swear. I’d tell you if it was. Especially if I could make things better for you. What’s going on?”

“Friend of a friend got caught up in a dealer’s shit last night. She ended up in the hospital with enough broken bones to make sure she rattles. She’ll be down a while.”

“She? Not Minka, right? Or even the hippie?”

I bring my eyes up and stop on the doctor duo who stare back at me. “Not Minka or Aubs, no. They’re right here with me.”

“Who’s the guy who hurt your friend?”

“Some dude named Nathan Booth. He deals in narcotics and weapons, and according to those who are investigating him, he’s a mean motherfucker.”

“Seems that way. Putting a female in the hospital doesn’t scream nice guy to me. So Booth is dealing for someone else, and that someone else has no name? But that guy with no name is running the streets we technically own? That’s what you’re telling me?”

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