Page 54 of Hold Him Like Gravity

As we approached, Coal kept his head down, but I saw how busted-up his face was regardless.

That was why he had to go? His friend was hurt?

“Is he okay?” I asked as Rico moved toward the edge of the curb, throwing up an arm when he saw a taxi down the street.

“He’s fine, babe. Don’t worry about him,” he said as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a wad of cash, and peeling off several bills. “Go on. Get in. Get home. Get some sleep,” he said, pressing the cash into my hand. Then, before Icould object, he slammed the door and patted his hand on the hood of the cab.

Feeling something akin to heartsick, I watched his shadow as the taxi drove off and he disappeared.

Only then did I look down at the money he’d given me.

A hundred bucks.

For a two-minute cab ride.

More money for Kyle, I guessed.

Though as I pushed what I didn’t need for the taxi into the pile of the rest of the stolen cash, tears were flooding my eyes.

Sure, I was putting the money toward getting my brother back.

But I was losing everything I wanted with Rico.

And he had no idea how badly I was betraying him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Rico

“The fuck you mean he wasjumped?” Renzo snapped as I stood in his living room first thing the next morning, not wanting to wake him up on the first night he’d called it early to go home and spend time with his wife all week.

“Just that. He was jumped.”

“The fuck didn’t he call me?” Renzo asked as he walked over to his coffee pot.

“He was close to the meat shop,” I explained. “He decided to make his way there in case the fucks came back.”

Renzo nodded at that, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“Does he know who it was?”

“No. Two guys,” I explained.

“Makes sense. Only way that kid is losing a fight is if he’s outnumbered,” Renzo said.

Coal was his little pet project.

The kid started out as an enemy of the family. But after enduring some brutal beatings as Renzo tried to get information out of him without losing his cockiness or begging for mercy, Renzo kind of decided he would be better as a part of our family than potentially working against it.

Coal was a street kid, on his own for a long time. Which made him hard and hungry and eager to prove his worth. The kid was forever carrying around a black eye, busted lip, or ripped open knuckles. And we allowed it because it was always good for the people on the streets to remember how willing we were to spill blood.

It was rare for someone to win against him.

And it was not good that two guys who should have known who Coal belonged to decided to fuck him up anyway.

Renzo sighed. “Did Coal get any good licks in?”

“Never seen his knuckles so bloody,” I confirmed. I’d taken him with me into the bathroom to clean him up. Partly because I needed the water from the sink. But also because my office smelled like blueberries and sex.

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