Page 12 of Overstaying His Welcome

Pompous asshole.

He pulled out a single sheet of paper and handed it to me. The information there was just as I suspected: a young conservative man from a small town worked his way up.

A young conservative man from a rich family with all the accolades he could possibly have, and an Ivy League degree was what I found on the paper. Even his extracurriculars were all things that would likely help him win an election as well.

It made sense given that when you were under this type of microscope, you were up for speculation as well as the people you surrounded yourself with. It's why my friends weren't really my friends.

They were acquaintances who had passed the checks from my father, and with whom I was allowed to be seen with in public.

My real friends were the people I met with behind closed doors. The ones who knew who I really was.

Just thinking about them had a smile blooming. I kept it tame since being too happy in this house would rile my father even more.

I'd have to text the guys to get together soon. It had been far too long since we'd hung out. One in particular who rarely got together with the group, but I often saw alone came to mind.

Tank was everything I'd ever wanted but wasn't allowed to have.

He was big and gruff and took no shit from anyone. I admired him with everything I had.

I loved him, but we would never get to be together.

What a fucked-up life I lived.

CHAPTER 4

TANK

Present Day

Rain drenched the city streets,sending people into a flurry on the sidewalk below. I watched from my office window as they scurried to and fro, careful to avoid the larger puddles as best they could. The cars on the road didn’t seem to hold the same regard. They sped through, splashing any and everyone.

It felt a bit like a metaphor for life.

You could try to avoid tough times with all your might, but it didn’t mean you would. Often, life would plow you down out of nowhere. You’d be as soaked as the poor people simply trying to get around the city.

“Tank,” Ronan called from my office door.

I turned to him, my mask back in place. No need for him to see me in one of my more depressed moods. It wouldn’t help any fucking thing if they thought I couldn’t handle this.

Besides, I totally could.

Handle this, I mean.

I was more equipped than anyone, had more connections and favors too. If I couldn’t make something happen, then Iknew at least two other people who could. And they likely owed me a favor or would trade for one.

“What’s up?” I walked over to my desk and took a seat.

The cushion welcomed me like an old friend. It had been too long since I’d been behind my desk. Most of our recent work has required me to be out in the office or around the city striking deals. My office is practically covered in dust.

Not truly, though it was damn close.

“Wanted to talk to you about Lune. Is there anyone you know who we could ask for intel?” My friend and business partner settled into the chair across from my desk. He was clearly hoping I had the answers we desperately needed.

I wasn’t sure how to tell him I felt stumped. Diestro Lune had been a thorn in my side since the moment Memphis discovered the identities of the Gilded Ones’s leaders.

While the others were dangerous, at least they were easy to track down. Lune had been mostly evasive from the start. It didn’t help that he was a psychopath too.

Having run into my fair share of them through the years, I knew how easily they could blend into society. It was a skill that made them perfect for jobs in the military — or sectors like it. Private security boasted more than a few assholes who were one flip away from a murderous rampage.

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