Page 176 of A Little Broken

Tongue in cheek, Rafe stares at me but doesn’t answer, proving he’s more in the loop with whatever Roman’s involved in than I initially assumed. The thought doesn’t make me feel any better.

“You’re not worried?” I push.

“About Rudy?” Rafe shakes his head. “Pax, it was years ago.”

“So?”

“So, it wasyearsago,” he repeats, emphasizing the timeline as if it makes any of this better. “Besides, the same players aren’t around anymore, Roman’s a big boy,andhe isn’t stupid. So, no. I’m not worried.”

“Rafe, he’s your brother,” I grit out.

Rafe’s jaw tics the same way it did when we were kids and I pushed him too far. Apparently, I’m doing the same thing now, but I don’t know how to stop. How to drop it. How to let this go.

“No offense, Pax, but it’s been a while since you’ve been to town,” he reminds me. “There’s more at play than you know, and like I already said, Roman isn’t stupid. He’s got this.”

“So, you’re okay with it?” I push.

“As much as I can be, yeah.” He rests his elbows on the table, watching me. “You can breathe, man. I’m keeping an eye on things.”

Keeping an eye on things? The bastard can’t be serious.

“How?” I demand. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but you’re behind bars.”

“And maybe you’ve forgotten how well I make friends,” he argues. “You really think I’d let Rome do something stupid?” A soft chuckle echoes from the phone. “Come on, man. Have a little faith. He’s good. I promise.”

I want to believe him. I do. It’s not like I haven’t been to my fair share of fight nights, and they’ve never been a problem. Not once. But I know Dodge, and he’s never had an issue crossing the line into illegal territory. If he’s spooked, he has a good reason to be. Doesn’t he?

“You sure you’re good?” I ask.

Rafe pauses, drawing his lips into his mouth before sobering even more. “Listen, I appreciate you and your bandmates lookin’ out for Rome and the rest of the guys, but you can’t come in at half-time and expect to know the plays, let alone participate in the game or understand shit. They have it under control.”

“Maybe they do, but I can’t just sit back?—”

“Yes, you can.”

“Rafe—”

“Seriously, Pax.” With a smile, he scratches his jaw. “Fuck, man. Do you know how happy I am for you? Whatever guilt you hold for me being here. For your mom or your dad or Roman. Fuck that shit. We’re good, and we’re happy for you. But you gotta be happy for us, too, and let us do our own thing, even if you don’t agree with it.”

Count on Rafe to say it like it is. Maybe it’s the real reason why I’m here. Because I feel guilty. Because I want to keep them safe. Want to keep everyone safe. But it isn’t easy. Not when I don’t know what they’re up against.

“You want me to let it go,” I realize.

“Yeah. I do.”

“At what cost?”

“At the cost of Roman’s future,” he says as if it’s enough to justify his seemingly hands-off approach. “Rome’s making money. Having fun. And building a fucking empire. Who are you to judge how he makes it?”

Blindsided, I shift back in the shitty-ass chair, considering his words.

Who am I to judge how Roman builds his empire?

I’m his older brother’s best friend. But is it enough? It’s easy to talk shit and criticize a person’s decisions from the outside looking in, especially when you care about the person. And if anything happens to Roman, I’ll be gutted. But Rafe is right. I don’t know the full story, and if I’m being honest, I don’t need to know the full story. It doesn’t involve me, and the guys owe me nothing. But letting go? Giving in and taking a backseat so someone else can make their own decisions—good or bad—is scary as hell. The realization is a hard blow as I stare at my best friend across from me. He has more skin in the game than I’llever have, and if he supports Roman, if he accepts his brother’s decisions, then who am I to do any different?

“You promise he’s being safe?” I push.

He holds my stare, never flinching. “Safe as he can be.”

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