Page 55 of Made For Ruin

“So,” Derrick says as we slide into opposite sides. “Tell me everything. What’s new with you?”

I shrug, fiddling with a cardboard coaster on the scarred tabletop. “Not much. Just working at the diner, same as always.”

Derrick nods, signaling to a passing prospect for two beers. “And you’re still living with Ruby?”

“Actually, no.” I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. “I recently moved in with someone.”

Derrick’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh yeah? Anyone I know?”

I shake my head quickly. “No, he’s...new in town.”

The prospect returns with our drinks, and I take a long swig of the cheap beer to avoid my brother’s probing gaze. As the cold liquid slides down my throat, I gather my nerve.

“So, this friend of yours,” I say carefully. “The one who helped you get out early. Who is he?”

Derrick’s eyes shutter, his easy grin fading. “No one you need to worry about.”

I sigh, setting my beer down with a thunk. “Derrick, come on. You can’t just show up out of the blue after three years and expect me not to have questions.”

Derrick runs a hand over his close-cropped hair, his jaw clenching. “I told you, it’s not important. What matters is that I’m out and we’re together again. Just like old times.”

He flashes me a charming grin, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I study his face, trying to reconcile this hardened man with the brother I remember.

“Actually, speaking of old times,” Derrick says, leaning back in the booth with a calculating look, “have you ever thought about selling the diner?”

I blink, taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. “What? No, of course not. That diner is our family’s legacy.”

Derrick waves a dismissive hand.

“Sure, sure. But think about it, sis. That place is a money pit. Always has been. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Why waste it slaving away in that greasy spoon?”

I bristle at his description. “It’s not a waste. The diner is important to me, Derrick. To our family. I’m not just going to sell it off to the highest bidder.”

“And I get that, I do,” he says, his voice slipping into that persuasive tone I remember from childhood. The one that always preceded him talking me into something reckless. “But at least hear me out. I’ve got this friend, a business associate. He’s always looking for new investment opportunities. I think you two should meet.”

A chill slides down my spine despite the stuffy heat of the clubhouse.

“Derrick, I’m not interested in selling to one of your ‘business associates.’ I don’t even want to know what kind of business he’s in.” I slide off the bar stool, needing to escape before whatever’s about to happen starts. “Listen, I should go. I have some errands to run.”

“Hold up.” Derrick’s hand catches my arm, his grip firmer than necessary. He glances around before lowering his voice. “You wouldn’t happen to have any cash you could spare? Just to tide me over until I get things sorted?”

My stomach drops. Of course. Three years, and this is what he really wanted.

“Actually, I don’t.”

“Come on, kiddo.” His fingers tighten slightly. “I’m family. Just a couple hundred to get me started?”

I think about the stack of unpaid bills in my office drawer. About the repairs the diner needs. About Dad’s face the last time Derrick asked him for money.

“I’m sorry, Derrick. I really can’t.”

Something cold flashes in his eyes before he masks it with a smile that doesn’t reach them.

“No worries, baby sis. Forget I asked.” His hand drops from my arm. “I’ll figure something out.”

The way he says it makes my skin crawl. He’s already turning away, calling out to someone named Blade, but I can’t shake the feeling that this conversation isn’t really over.

FOURTEEN

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