Page 11 of Southpaw Slots

Or not.

FOUR

ASA

Stuffy and cluttered. And smells old, too, like ancient dust from the graveyard visible from the open back windows letting in a summer breeze. Don’t these fucks use air conditioning? My sweaty T-shirt clings to my back as I lean forward in the uncomfortable, gaudy chair. The bear stares me down with what could only be described as disdain. Deep brown eyes narrow at me.

Neither of us has spoken for a good minute. Maybe two.

I’d rather do this at my office, but he said he “didn’t feel comfortable” after he busted into my joint like he owned the place and got shown up. What a wuss. Always was.

There was one time when we were kids that he cried like a baby when he got stung by Yellow Jackets. Livia had to help him out. Sometimes I still think abouthis swollen face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran screaming and dove into the pond while I laughed my ass off.

Sniffing, my nose almost drips onto my shorts, but I catch it before it does. It’s been two days since I had coke. Not that I miss it. It’s expensive as fuck and the boys burned through the last batch like it was melting snow. No, that’s not that bad. Not compared to the throb in my head from not getting my dick sucked in six days, eighteen hours, and thirty-seven seconds.

I can’t do this anymore.

It’s been years since I had to jerk off, and I shouldn’t have to start doing it now at almost thirty years old. My new wife better be ready for those duties in about seven hours after herpreciouswedding she insisted we hold. The empress has her brother wrapped around her finger, from what I can tell. Though I only saw her twice. Once at the courthouse where we didn’t speak. And another at the Freidenberg manor, but I was too busy trying to kill Cal to pay attention to her then.

A frustrated sigh spears through my nostrils quickly before I wipe the perspiration off my forehead, using it to style my hair back into place. “Are you gonna fucking speak or what?”

“Listen to me, and listen good, you prick.” Max sits back in his chair and taps the legal pad on his old-ass mahogany desk with one index finger like he’s a principal and I’m in detention. “You willnottreat my sister badly. If I hear a word from her about ill conditions, I’ll rip you limb from limb. Won’t even bother to make it look like an accident.” Picking up his hand, he shoves the disciplinary digit toward my face. “No boozing. And no drugs. That means you don’t cheat, either. No other women, Asa. My sister is gold, and you should treat her as such.”

“No, thanks. I’ll leave the pussy whip for you. Livia’s got such a stranglehold on your dick, you probably can’t take a piss without it coming out in two streams.” With my retort, he stands and leans over the desk like he’s gonna hit me. He could try… Wish my guys were here with me, but part of the deal was I had to come alone.

“You’re broke. Your name is a fucking joke around here. If you want Freidenberg cash and weapons, you’ll be a good husband to her.” He clears his throat and lowers his voice. “Your mother and father would have wanted that for you.”

I jerk up to a stand, ready to strike. “Fuck you. Don’t mention my family.”

“Well, you and I are already family, Asa.” Relaxing his shoulders, he sits back in his seat, kicking up his feet on the desk all at ease. “You’re my brother-in-law.” As he busies himself with some papers, he barely gives me a glance, and finishes with, “See you at the wedding.”

Picking up an ancient crystal ashtray nearby, I chuck it at his marble fireplace, making it shatter, then turn and throw open his office door, hightailingout with a pounding stride as his old butler hurries past me to find out what the commotion was.

Gold melts at a high enough temperature.

I know this because I lost my parents’ wedding bands in a poker match three years ago to Nicky Raine. Shark’s guys melted them right in front of me just to prove what an asshole he was.

After all the family jewels were gone, I started hocking art, then furniture. The only thing I didn’t touch was Ashley’s bedroom, which my mother kept as a shrine with some delusion that my sister would walk back through the front door one day like nothing happened. Dad tried to comfort her by encouraging it, too. But I knew. I was the only one who understood.

Ashley was never coming back.

But after she was gone, I faded into a ghost, not her. Without even doing anything of her own merit, she became the once-and-for-all favorite child. I had no shot for any attention after, and despite being the firstborn and a son, I was forgotten. It was over for me the day they got her mangled body back, delivered on our front lawn like a sack of meat thrown from the back of a truck.

That was the day Asa Donovan ceased to exist. And the only way I knew I was alive was because of the pain.

When I was twenty, someone shot both my parents in the head and left their bloody bodies lying on the family graves next to the Crimson Angel. It was then Idecided I’d never set foot in the tomb of my family home again. It’s cursed. Haven’t been back since.

Through our lawyers, the empress of the Freidenberg clan demanded a wedding and even suggested my parents’ house. But she’d have to have it at the casino. There was no way I was venturing into a portal back to my own personal hell. It’s my household she’s coming into, and I live in the penthouse. She’ll just have to deal.

Fuck, I hadn’t even thought about where she’d put all her stupid girl shit. Hopefully, Kline dealt with that.

In the VIP lounge in the back room, the tailor fixes some last-minute touchups to my white tux as Cass helps straighten my ascot. I didn’t give a shit about the rest of the wedding preparation as long as it was at the White Wolf Lodge, and I got to pick out my Armani suit. White, of course.

“Whelp…I’m sure the triplets won’t care that you’re married.” Cass steals a glance at me before returning his focus to the silk around my neck.

Staring into the mirror, my lips tighten into a line. “They already left me the last time ’causeCalhad to spoil it. Cindy won’t come over ’cause they won’t. I don’t know about the other girls.” With a peek up at the corner camera, I narrow an eyelid. “And I have a feeling Freidenberg’s fucks are probably watching who’s coming and going from the penthouse.”

He stands and places his hands on my shoulders. “You’re really not going to keep it as just our place? A bachelor pad? You’re letting her live there?”

---