Page 47 of A Little Broken

I clear my throat and lift my chin in greeting. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Hey, I’m a big fan. Huge.”

“Thanks.” I lift my beer in a silent cheers motion and take a sip, turning back to the water.

“Sure thing. You from around here? How’s it feel to be back? Are the rumors true? You know, the ones about IndieCent Vows being over and shit?”

I bring the beer to my lips again but hesitate before taking a sip.

Is it over? Honestly, I have no fucking clue. I knew Judge’s family would want him back at one point or another. Knew they could pull the plug at any second, and we’d be through. But knowing time’s up? That they need him enough to screw up my future, along with the rest of the band all because his nephews aren’t pulling their weight or some shit? It doesn’t feel real.

But the most fucked up part of all is that I’m not sure how I feel about it. Traveling the world is incredible but exhausting. Maybe it’ll be nice to slow down for a little while. And maybe I’m being too easy on the rest of the band by buying their bullshit, glass is half-full perspective on everything. But being here again? I dunno. The wound might not be fresh, but it’s still there. Still here. On these beaches. At these parties. Bringing me right back to the fucked-up kid with his head up his ass and one too many wrong decisions.

“Not gonna tell me, huh?” The stranger laughs. “Come on, man. I heard you’re the one with the big mouth.”

“If you’re looking for the big mouth, you’ll have to talk to Tuke.” Pinching the bottle neck between my fingers, I take another swig when I catch a familiar face hidden in the shadows.Well, would you look at that? Roman Stone. The face of one of my many wrong decisions. Roman is my best friend’s little brother and Judge’s nephews’ closest friend despite growing up on the opposite side of town. He’s also the guy who has connections to everything in this town, and I mean everything. I scan him up and down, realizing he’s grown at least two feet since the last time I saw him. Although, now that I think about it, it’s not like I’ve made it a habit of swinging by home since I escaped a decade ago. Add in my mom’s suicide and Roman’s big brother’s arrest, and I considered The Drift a no-fly zone. Honestly, I’m surprised Roman’s still here at all. Figured he would’ve bolted given the chance, just like I did. Then again, considering the shit he’s supposedly up to with Judge’s nephews, it seems he’s found good use for his connections on the wrong side of the tracks. I wonder if it’ll bite him in the ass like it did with Rafe. I lift my chin in greeting. “Well if it isn’t Rafe’s shadow.”

“Not since he got locked up,” Roman returns dryly.

Striding toward me, he offers his hand and pulls me into a hug, slapping his opposite hand against my back. “How you been, Pax?”

“Been good, man,” I return. “What’s new?”

“The usual.” He lets me go, then turns his focus on my new friend. “But since when does this town ask questions they shouldn’t be asking?”

The stranger lifts his hand in defense. “I was only askin’—”

“Yeah, I know what you were asking,” Roman mutters. “Go get yourself a beer and leave my man alone, all right?”

“Sure thing.”

As the stranger trudges off, I give Roman the side-eye. “Seems you do have some say in shit.”

“Yeah, pretty sure Judge’s brother pulled the cord a little hastily.”

I lift my hands in defense. “Hey, I don’t know anything about it.”

“You’re saying Judge hasn’t filled you in?”

“He likes to keep family business…family business,” I offer.

“Yeah, well, even if he was good at keeping his mouth shut, considering your past, I’m sure you’ve still pieced together the reason he’s here.”

I shrug. “I may have picked up on a thing or two.”

“Figured as much,” Roman grumbles. “Not sure how they don’t see the irony in trying to shut down what they started in the first place, though.”

“So, you admit to organizing shady shit on the weekends?” I counter.

He smirks. “No comment.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I laugh. “So maybe Judge’s brotherwasonto something by calling him to come and whip your asses back into shape.”

Roman’s broad shoulders raise into a shrug before he tucks his hands in his front pockets. He’s probably trying to look innocent, but I know him better than to buy into the act.

“Just because we know how to have a good time and make some good money while we’re at it doesn’t mean we’re out of control,” he mutters.

“It does to men like Titas,” I clarify, mentioning Judge’s brother. Roman doesn’t argue, well aware it’ll only be a waste of breath. “And your brother,” I add. I could drop it. I should drop it. But I can’t help myself. Not when I know Rafe would want me to say something. To push the subject, even if it isn’t my place. “From what I hear, you’ve been following in his footsteps pretty damn close lately.”

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