Page 26 of Overstaying His Welcome

"Tank?" he said as he answered.

"It's me. How's it going, Ricardo?"

He snorted. "It's going. What are you calling for? Did someone die?"

I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"No one's dead. I'm calling because I need your computer expertise. I know that you don't usually work in that, but I could use some extra hands on this. Hands that can protect themselves in case of any blowback."

He hummed in understanding. We both knew of other people, people like Grayson, who worked for Stryker. We even had a few guys we knew in Bellport that could help out.

Unfortunately, they were too clean-cut to be part of something this dark. Something this dangerous.

"Have Memphis send me whatever it is. I’m busy at the minute, but I'll take a look as soon as I get to it."

"As soon as you can is best. I'll pay you or whatever. Money, favors, you name it, it’s yours."

There was a pause, and then he whistled softly. "This must be a big fucking deal if you're willing to hand out favors to me."

I turned from the guys watching me, tilting my head back as I closed them tightly, wishing I could be invisible. Wishing they wouldn't hear me.

"It's the most important favor I'll ever give out. I need your help."

"Done," he said. "Whatever you need, I’ll get it. Let me help."

I ended the call with a promise to be in touch soon. Memphis was already sending what he had, since he knew Ricardo.

Then I dialed the other number in my phone.

One that I wasn't supposed to know about.

One that I had really, truly tried to avoid.

It rang and rang and rang until a soft voice answered, "Who is this?"

"It's me," I said. And since we spoke once a week for the last three years, he knew who I was off the bat.

I had him labeled with a star. It was easy and simple.

Like me, though, he didn't have my number saved under a name. But I imagined, on his end, I was some type of emoji. Maybe a devil, or one of those faces that looked like it was constipated. He loved to torment me that way.

Him asking who I was likely was a precaution for anyone else he thought might be listening.

"Why are you calling me today? It's not our time to talk," he said.

"I'm calling because I need your help."

He gave a rough sort of laugh. "You don't need my help. You're Tank. The big bad guy who's got it all under control."

My head was still tilted back, and my eyes still closed. Instead of arguing, I gave him what he needed.

"I'm not just Tank to you. I'm your brother. I'm the man who’s willing to help in every way that I have. The one who has your back nonstop. Help me with this. Please. It's important."

“It's about him, isn't it?”

My brother Kendall, a surprise to me when he showed up all those years ago, and another secret that I kept from the team, spoke as if he knew about Chance. I shouldn't have been surprised. I had no doubt he was keeping tabs on me.

When he first appeared in my life with a blood test and proof that we were related, thanks to my mother donating her eggs for money one time, I panicked. How could I have a sibling and not know?!

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