Page 49 of Sins and Secrets

“Three reasons.” He crosses the room and sits in a chair across from the desk, sliding his cell phone across the surface. The screen displays a picture of a purple M, ornate and almost medieval in style. “It’s the logo for Majesty. This shit is bad news, and right now, only dealers are getting this tat.”

I’ve never seen it before. “I’m not getting involved in your drug war.”

“You already are involved… or at least your brother is.” He throws a baggie on the desk and my body is instantly ill. “Found this in Waverly’s place while we were packing your brother’s shit. It’s definitely not hers.”

I refuse to touch the bag and I sure as shit don’t want it on my desk. But Adam is using drugs. It’s surprising, but not shocking. I might be the tattoo artist, but he’s the one with fucking sketchy friends and money problems. “My half brother is a bag of herpes-coated dicks.”

Uri’s lips curl. “Agreed.” He reaches for the baggie and puts it in his pocket. “Wave knows we found one, but she has no clue about the three other baggies we found. Adam has a problem, and because he’s been hovering around Waverly, that becomes my problem.”

The color drains from my face as I sit in my chair. My mouth is agape. The damn baggie and the purple M burned into my retinas. People have died from the slightest contact with this shit, and she had it in her house. She kissed the guy using it. I could have lost her forever. I try to direct my focus to Uri who has been examining me silently.

The same question I asked her this morning comes to mind. “Is she in danger?”

Uri shakes his head. “Nah. She’s staying with Alana, and we’ve got people watching her.” He leans in across the desk. “That’s how I know she left your place this morning.”

Oh, shit.

He gives me a little smirk before standing up. “Whatever. She’s an adult.” He slides his hand in his front pocket and tosses a business card on the desk. “Give me a call if anyone wants that tattoo.”

Fucking Adam. Doing drugs, maybe even selling them, out of Waverly’s home. Where she’s supposed to be safe. I grab the card and start typing on my phone. I don’t notice Uri’s still standing at the door.

“By the way, you’re local now. A cold isn’t going to stop me from putting a bullet in your head if you hurt her again.”

The threat doesn’t land because his phone buzzes, and the confusion on his face makes him far less scary. “Why did you send me a coupon for baseball bats?” Uri asks.

This time I smirk. “My brother’s favorite possession is his car. Be a real shame if something happened to it.” Leaning back in my chair I move the cursor on my laptop. “You want me to put you on the schedule in six months?”

Uri has one of those smiles that shines in his eyes. It's genuine. “Yeah, man. See you later.”

ChapterTwenty-One

Waverly

It’s a family dinner night.Correction, it’s a Four Families dinner, and I’m supposed to go to Lukas’s place after. There’s an unusual amount of crack addled butterflies in my stomach thinking about going over there.

Walking into the Four Families event brings the same amount of anxiety as always. It’s hosted by the Russians this time. Uri’s mom redecorated when she moved back in and it’s a lot less tacky than it was years ago—more quiet luxury, less gangster glam of the 70s and 80s.

I take my coat off and hang it on the hook. The parents should be in the fancy room, like they normally are, and I hear an explosion of laughter from the kitchen. That’s supposed to be our place.

Resentment is pushed aside when I’m greeted with seventeen smiling faces. The whole crew is here. “Waverly!” Izzy shouts and jumps off her stool. I smell the wine on her breath as she wraps her arms around me. “Yay! You’re here.”

Dad comes over, puts his hand on my back, and kisses my forehead. Sheila smiles and gives me a huge wave before putting her glass on the counter and trekking around the kitchen island to give me a hug.

Um. This is weird.

Then Sheila whispers, “I’m sorry about you and Adam.”

Oh…

They all know. Awesome. Fantastic. “You all hated him?” I notice the expensive bottles of wine. They started celebrating without me, and because of me.

Dad shrugs. “You can do so much better.”

Izzy’s older brother, Donny, swallows. “We heard you flicked him in the nuts. Ice cold, Wave. Would’ve been kinder to shoot him.”

“He doesn’t deserve kindness.” Uri finishes the last mouthful of wine in his glass. “No, I hated him.” He glares at me across the room, kind enough not to give me his ‘I told you so’ face. Instead, he eats a mini quiche. “I hated him as much as I hate going to the pig farm.”

“What? Why?” I loved the pig farm as a kid. Normally it was just me and Dad. On the car ride, we would singRentandWickedat the top of our lungs. When we got to the farm, Dad would let me play with the piglets. They were cute and happy. I wish I had enough mental strength and commitment to become a vegetarian, but that shit wouldneverfly in my household. Plus, bacon tastes too damn good. “I mean, I guess it’s sad they kill the baby pigs.”

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