Page 31 of Bourbon and Proof

His brow furrows at the out-of-left-field question. “I talk to her just about every day. Why?”

If she told him about what transpired, he wouldn’t keep it to himself. I stare back and think through how I’m going to navigate everything.

“Why are you asking?” Lincoln asks again.Great.

My phone lights up on its charging station across the room. It’s a good distraction, but when I swipe it, I notice the wall of unanswered text messages.

THE JEWELER

There’s an interesting development with a New York-based group.

Alright, no answer. I’ll be more direct. There are some pissed-off Russians making heart eyes at some investments with your little bird’s last name connected to it.

Still not interested?

I’m fucking interested. I look up at my brother, who’s still waiting for an answer. Maybe she mentioned this to him, because she sure as hell hadn’t mentioned it to me.

“She seems off, that’s all. Heard a rumor about angry acquaintances of her father’s who are looking for payment,” I say, trying to play this off as a casual conversation.

THE JEWELER

Fine. I’ll be at Midnight Proof tonight. If you don’t show, I might have to shoot my shot.

Julian knows exactly what to say for me to respond, and I hate that he’s aware of my weakness. We’re on the same side of things, a history of knowing how to clean a crime scene and erase people from existence. A forced friendship, if you could call it that, simply because we bend the same rules and connect the right and wrong people. Griz knew his father, who taught his son both trades as well. Jewelry making and “cleaning.” A family business a lot like ours—secrets, lies, and erasing the proof that either of those things existed.

ACE

What do you want?

THE JEWELER

Showing your hand, old man. I didn’t think you were that easy.

ACE

Fuck off.

THE JEWELER

See you tonight at 10 p.m.

There have been a number of organized crime families sniffing around in the past couple of years. Shortly after Laney’s arrival was the first time, but that was deflected with a few favors I had collected. Any organized crime that came close to Fiasco anymore had more to do with buying some extra cases of bourbon or getting prepared for some big betting with the Derby fast approaching. Liquor, horses, and money bring all levels of trouble. But it isn’t anything new. And it rarely warrants my attention, butthishas it.

Lincoln gets up from the chair after it’s obvious I’m distracted by my phone. He stops in the doorway and turns fast. “She asked me if I had talked to you too.”

I look up, my eyes meeting his immediately.Shit.

He rubs at the back of his neck. “What happened?”

“None of your business,” I answer flatly.

“If something happened...” he says, watching me curiously as I try to get the hell out of the kitchen, “it wouldn’t be the worst thing?—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off. I don’t want him to finish the statement. My brother caring about me hooking up with his best friend is laughable. Honestly, he’d probably cold-cock me if he knew how I left her. If he knew what she asked me and how I flat out said no...

I shake my head and take a breath. Yeah, Lincoln would throw a pile driver without thinking twice.

“Don’t ask me questions about things that you’re not going to like the answers to, Linc,” I say in a measured, stoic tone. “I know she’s been getting hassled about her affiliation with Finch & King Racing. Just wanted to know if she’s gotten any more threats regarding her father.”

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