Page 495 of The Tempted

For a man who cared so much about living to fuck, he drove like a man looking to die. I closed my eyes like a pussy as he blew lights and swerved in and out of traffic. The crazy motherfucker didn’t drive a cage much but when he was behind the wheel his ass went fast and furious.

He pulled in front of Jack’s house, nodding towards the Bulldog’s bike that sat in the driveway and my truck parked behind it.

“At least Blondie kept your truck in one piece,” he commented.

I grunted, reaching for the door handle.

“Good luck,” he called as I climbed out of the car and slammed the door. I grabbed my balls and climbed the stoop, taking a deep breath as I pounded my knuckles against the door.

I closed my eyes, threw my game face on, because I was about to be the scumbag who looked my brother in the eye, the same friend who created my angel, and pretend like I didn’t destroy her.

He pulled the door open and glared at me.

“Now’s not a good time,” he hissed.

“Too fucking bad, gave you twenty-four hours to wallow in your shit,” I said, pushing past him and making my way into the house. The quicker I got a handle on him the quicker I could drag my ass to his ex-wife’s house and apologize to Lacey.

My eyes fell on Reina as she tugged her shirt down and looked away.

“See you found your man. Thanks for keeping my car in one piece,” I said, noticing the tears that streaked her face and turned to Jack. Looks like I wasn’t the only one fucking up women these days. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Mind your fucking business,” he barked.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for a lovers fucking quarrel, brother,” I seethed. Fucking hearts, they were breaking everywhere.

“Take Reina home,” he ordered, ignoring me as he stared at Reina.

“I don’t need anyone to take me anywhere,” she replied.

For fuck’s sake.

“Either he drives you home or I do,” he demanded.

“Fine,” she hissed, turning toward me. “Give me a minute to grab my things.”

I blew out a breath, glancing back and forth between the two of them before nodding curtly.

“Five minutes,” I warned as I crossed my arms against my chest.

I watched on as she moved towards the stairs only for him to grab her arm and whisper some shit into her ear. She finally tugged her arm free and disappeared up the stairs leaving me alone with Jack. He stalked through the living room where the walls were long ago marked with holes from his fists punching through the Sheetrock in search of bugs he believed his brother planted when he became a Fed. He never plastered the walls, keeping the reminder of the menace, his mind was and what drove him to insanity the day his son passed away.

He grabbed a pack of Marlboros off the dining room table and walked back into the living room.

“Got a light?” he asked, pushing the cigarette between his lips as he walked past me to the front door.

Fresh air.

Good idea.

I took a seat next to him on the stoop and handed him a lighter in exchange for a cigarette. I studied his profile as he took a pull, searching for all the telltale signs of a breakdown but came up short. He appeared to be battling the war in his heart and not his head. Maybe pussy did shake crazy.

“You want to talk about that?” I questioned, looking over my shoulder.

“What’s the point? You probably know more about my actions than I do,” he muttered.

There was truth to that and the reason I was his vice president. I knew Jack and I knew his maker and for a long time I’ve been the one who merges them into one.

“Not talking about your breakdown, talking about your woman,” I commented, taking a drag. “I was wrong about her, you know,” I offered. I’ve never worked Jack down from old lady bullshit and was riding blind. Give me the manic shit. I’m all aces with that.

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