Page 40 of Death's Deal

Putting his hands up in a defeatist motion, he says, “She’s your kryptonite. I’m looking out for you. If you’re not going to cover your ass about her, someone has to.” I laugh. “J isn’t here to tell you how bad this is. I bet you haven’t even told her. Why don’t I give her a call?” Pulling out his phone, he flips through his contacts. Fucker is trying my patience and my last nerve.

“Jaz stays out of this. The last thing either of us need right now is my sister trying to act all scary killer, psycho sister.”

Pulling a second beer from the fridge, cradling his phone, he lets it ring. “I’m not saying this is a bad decision for my Boss and the club. Taking the job for the money was the right thing to do. This is as a friend who’s seen how that cunt fucked you over.”

“She had a reason, and it was justified as far as I’m concerned.”

Letting the phone ring once, twice, he continues to let it ring. “There’s no reason to send an innocent fucking kid to jail. She fucked you on the stand. She lied and sent you to jail.”

“There’s more to it—”

Third ring. “Don’t defend her. You’ve always been soft about her.”

Grinding my teeth, my patience is gone, replaced with annoyance. “Hang up the phone, Boyd,” I tell him as the phone connects and Jaz’s voice scratches across the tiny speaker.

“I’m not up for nookie.” Her voice carries across the garage’s empty space with a mental picture I didn’t need.

“Hang up,” I say darkly once again.

With a sideways smirk of his, the scar on his cheek tightens. “You need to talk sense into your brother, J. He’s not listening to me.”

In a warning tone, I state, “Boyd.” Picking up the nearest wrench, raising it, and stepping toward him, his smile cranks up another notch. I’m super pissed, and he thinks I’m bluffing. “Hang up the phone, now.”

“Brother. If you won’t deal with this shit, drastic measures are needed.” He speaks into his phone closely, “Antonia is here.”

“Bennett!” she squeals loudly. “Why would you be anywhere near her?”

“Mitigating circumstances.”

“Yes. Your cock is happy to sink itself inside her again. That crazy bitch sent you to jail. Don’t forget that, B,” Jaz snaps off, causing Boyd to wiggle an eyebrow in a “see, I’m right” look.

I can’t handle much more of the schooling from my longest friend and my baby sister. The two of them have no idea. As Boyd explains the circumstances, leaving out the cash injection, they both continue to tell me why I shouldn’t guard her, and why I should kick her to the curb as fast as I can. Without a second thought I blurt out, “I have a son.”

Pausing, causing the room to quiet, in near unison J and Boyd both say, “Wait? What?” Her voice carries around the room on a pitch I didn’t think she possessed, and he nearly matches her tempo.

I tell them the truth. “The mayor gave her an ultimatum when he found out she was pregnant with my child. It was the baby or me. She chose our son.”

Wide-eyed, with his jaw slacked and a stunned look, Boyd’s expression is probably no different than mine when she said it to me. Again, total disbelief.

“You’re shitting me? She was pregnant? With your kid?”

Jaz speaks up, “It’s a ploy. You don’t have a kid. She’s just playing you. Wise up, Bennett. She’s trying to get you to save her ass from whatever shit her family is into. It’s not your kid.”

Softer, less jovial and now serious, Boyd quirks a brow. He knows me enough to see my expression. I’m not lying. “He’s yours and not some random guy’s kid.”

“I’ve seen him in person. I’ve seen pictures of him from when he was born. Timing and all match up. She gave birth nine months to the day from our camping trip. He was born while I was inside.”

Still shocked, Boyd takes a seat in a blue folding chair that was leaning on the wall just behind him. “Why did she say something now, after letting all of those years pass?”

“She’d carved out a deal with her father. If she kept it a secret, even from me, she could keep her son. Once the truth came out though, he’d be off to foster or some shit. She knew her father was powerful enough to make it happen and to not care who was hurt in the process, as long as it didn’t affect his reputation. Tristan is older now and there’s no threat to him.” Even saying it all out loud, I want to stroll back to the mayor’s gates and punch Morriso in the teeth so hard he’s shittin’ chicklets for a week.

Calmly, Jazmine asks, “What’s his name?”

“Tristan Quinlan Morriso.” Smiling, I perk up that this conversation has lightened. “His nickname is Little Crow.”

“Ain’t that coincidental?” Boyd chirps before bringing the phone to his ear after taking it off speaker. “I need to catch Bennett up on a few more things, then I’ll be over, gorgeous. Anything you want me to bring?” Pausing to hear her speak, he smiles as he answers, “Yeah. I’ll get you a package of those red laces you love. No. I’m not grabbing you condoms for the pool boy. I am the pool boy.” Rolling his eyes, he knows she’s just taunting him, torturing him a bit. “Just remember, the only man sinking into that flesh is me. See you soon,” Boyd states with a smile as he hangs up and pockets his phone.

“You two drive me nuts with that shit. Keep it to yourself,” I blast him. I swear, I tell him that every time they talk about sinkin’ the pink. They love to find new ways to gross me out.

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