Page 19 of Protecting What Is Mine

The thought repulses me. “God you’re such an asshole. I really shouldn’t blame him for hating you the way he does,” I say thumbing at Chet, asleep in his bed a few feet from us.

“Does he?” Leo asks.

“Does who, what?”

“Chet. Does he still hate me? Really?”

My jaw drops. “Are you really asking? You did your absolute best…or possibly your worst…to ruin his wedding. If you two weren’t on permanently shaky ground before, I’d say that sealed the deal.”

Leo seems genuinely hurt by the statement, but he does his best to hide it. “So, who’s the girl?”

“Mollie Williams.”

“Hmm. Sorry bro, name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“She works at Belle’s. Blonde? Thin? Gorgeous smile.”

Leo rubs his chin. “Sounds like someone I’d like to know. What about the cousin? Didn’t you say she had a cousin who is closer to my age?”

I nod, thinking of Mollie’s cousin Sam. But before I say another word, the look on Leo’s face goes sour.

“Wait. You said a younger cousin? Last name Williams?”

I nod. “Yeah, what’s the problem? I’ve met her, she seems genuinely sweet.”

Leo raises a brow. “She? No she. I’m talking about Clint. Clint Williams. Is that not her cousin?”

The thought hadn’t entered my mind before now. Of course, Leo would know the cousin with a rap sheet. Why should I expect anything else? I grit my teeth. “Yeah, actually. That wasn’t the cousin I was thinking of, but unfortunately Clint is also related to her. I’m almost afraid to ask how you know him.”

“No worries, man. It’s not like that. I was never really in his lane. That dude was the definition of bad news. Hell, last I heard, he was doing a stretch upstate.”

“Really? What can you tell me about him? We had a less than ideal introduction at The Saddle the other night. One look at him and it was obvious he was trouble.”

Leo shakes his head. “Can’t say as I know anything about him since high school, but that fits the bill of the guy I remember. He and his family were into bad shit, like for real bad. And he was always right in the thick of it.”

“What’s that mean?” I ask. “Bad shit that was too much for you? Give me a for instance.”

“Well. This one time, school had just started back after Christmas break and Clint went on and on bragging about how he and his family had stolen a bunch of cars and sold them to a chop shop. I mean, whatever rebellious shit I might’ve done as a teenager, grand theft auto was in a whole different league. You know?”

I rub my forehead, trying to process what I’m hearing through the sleepy haze I haven’t yet fully come out of. “Holy shit man.”

“Yep. It didn’t stop there. Anything they thought they could steal and get away with, they were willing to try. But…” Leo raises a brow. “They obviously weren’t criminal masterminds. I mean, Clint did time, and I think his dad was in prison all through high school. I always assumed that’s why he did what he did. Trying to prove something to the old man. Show him he had what it took, or whatever. Dumb as hell if you ask me.”

I blink hard. “Seriously? You’re sitting here talking about how stupid someone else’s rebellious life choices are? Especially someone who might’ve been rebelling because of their dad? That’s a bit ballsy, even for you. Don’t ya think?”

Leo throws both hands up. “What, man? I’m not perfect, but I didn’t rebel because of Dad. He was awesome. I rebelled after Dad died and Chet—and Gabe too I guess, to a lesser extent—thought they had the right to step in and tell me how to live.”

“Uh. Somebody had to. You may not have been stealing cars, but it’s not like we all didn’t see you ending up there. Fighting, cheating, getting suspended. You were on a path, little brother. It took a lot of favors and old family history to keep you out of juvey…probably jail, if Chet hadn’t stepped in the way he did.”

“And you wonder why I don’t come around more. Who would purposefully sign up for this abuse?”

I reach over and smack him on the back of the head.

“What. The. Fuck. Dude.”

“Little brother. You make me feel like a sleaze ball for defending you, that’s what.”

Leo rubs at his head with one hand while he flips me the bird with the other.

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