Page 76 of Demise

I slide my hands into my pockets. “I’m selling the bar,” I call out. She stops.

“I was hoping you’d be the one to buy it.”

She turns around, tears in her eyes.

I frown, swallowing. I walk closer to her, stopping when I near. I reach out and twirl one of her dreads around my finger. “I never meant to hurt you, Mae.”

She closes her eyes, causing the tears to river down her cheeks.

I bring her close and kiss her forehead. She wraps her arms around me, and we stand still for a moment before she pulls away. Rubbing her face, she inhales. “Draw up an agreement,” she says. “I want the bar.”

“Okay,” I reply.

She sniffs, nods, and then walks toward the back door. I look after her as she swings the door open, disappearing inside. My eyes move to the building as twilight paints the sky purple-blue. I think about the years I’ve been here, the day I bought the place. I was a fucking kid who’d just had his heart broken. Who just had a gun pointed to his skull because Moretti said so.

Now I’m a man in his thirties, who’s about to start over. The way I’ve been living is not the way I’ll be living any longer. Nugget’s dead, Moretti is about to fall, and I’m moving on. The wind shifts, and I see lightning in the distance.

“Change is here,” I murmur. I walk back in as my phone rings.

“Bryce?” I answer.

“Hey,” he says.

“What’s going on?” I ask, wondering why he would be calling me. I’m close to the noise of the bar, so I walk back toward the exit and stand by the door.

“Wanna tell me why I’m sitting here with a goddamn gunshot wound?”

“What?” I ask, feeling my brow furrow.

“Someone intentionally hit my fucking car, and then shot me right after they informed me to tell Moretti to stay off his turf. My wife is healing from stress-induced labor, Danny. What the hell is going on?”

The fuck? I go silent, a hard crease forming between my brows.Goddamn.Who the hell could have done that? Probably some small-time cocksuckers who barely make a grand a week. Running drugs through Red seems to have ruffled some feathers. Hate that Bryce has gotten dragged into it.

“I’ll handle this,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.”

He chuckles. “I’m afraid I can’t not worry about it, Danny. I have a child and a wife. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Remember what I told you in jail? The less you know, the better, my friend.”

“Are you running drugs out of Red?” he asks. “Is that why you bought it?”

“The less you know,” I say again. “We’ll talk soon.” With that I hang up. Jesus Christ, another fucking problem. I pinch the bridge of my nose, walking back to Sweep.

“Where were we?” I ask.

Sweep tosses a ring onto the bar. I stare at the black diamonds. My throat closes up. I look back at Sweep.

“It was Trig,” he says. “He lied.” He picks up his beer. “He fucking lied.”

Chapter Fifty-Four

Bones

It’s been a few weeks since I sat beside Sweep and he told me about Trig. He informed me of the videos of Bexley and me tied up in that shack. The ring he tossed onto the bar was the one I wore. Moretti gifted it to me after he murdered the people who took my parents’ lives. Those people were Trig’s family.

It all makes sense now. It was what I believed when Bexley and I were in that dump. He blames me for his family’s death, when in fact, he should be taking it out on Moretti, but it’s too late for should’ve. He drew up a contract; he decided his own fate.

Stupid man.

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