Page 30 of Outcast
“So, what’s the deal with this loan? I wasn’t aware of there being one.”
“Oh, you didn’t know? That explains… Well, shit.” Holden’s eyebrow arched at Emory’s quiet curse. “We really should discuss this face-to-face. I don’t want anything lost in translation over the phone.”
“Okay,” Holden said. “When?”
“I’m on my way to lunch, so?—”
“We’ll meet you somewhere,” I cut in. “Our treat.”
Holden shot me awhat-the-fucklook.
“Gr-Gray?” Emory stuttered. “I didn’t realize you were on the line.”
“Yep. Holden and I are free, if you are. Meet at Jerkers?”
“All right, sure thing. But it’smytreat.”
Holden hung up. “You know Emory Gold?”
“From high school,” I hedged.
Not that I couldn’t tell Holden the truth. He was the only one of my brothers who knew I was gay.
He’d tracked me down only months after I’d left, intent on dragging me back. I’d had to tell him the whole story so he’d understand why I’d never set foot under our dad’s roof again.
But it wasn’t my place to tell him Emory’s private business.
Holden dragged a hand over his face. “Shit, it’s bad news. I can feel it.”
“We don’t know that.”
He shot me a look. “You really think a loan can be anythingbutbad news when we’re already operating at a loss?”
Well, when he put it that way…
“We’ll figure out how to fix it, then.”
“Wewill, huh?” Holden smirked at me as he stood and grabbed his wallet and phone. “So, when you said you couldn’t promise to stay, were you bullshitting me—or are you bullshitting me now?”
“Neither. I’m not leaving until we figure this shit out, okay? I know what the business means to you.”
He frowned at that but didn’t bother arguing. “Come on. Let’s go.”
We took Holden’s car, because of course he wanted to drive.
“Control freak,” I muttered as I climbed into his gunmetal-gray GTO.
“You couldn’t pay me to get on the back of that bike with you,” he said as he started the engine with a roar.
I’d always be partial to bikes, but as cars went, it was a sexy beast.
“You’d probably throw me off and take control of the handlebars.”
Holden grinned as he shifted into gear and pulled out onto the highway. “Lucky for you, I wanted to take the car, then.”
The banter had been a nice distraction, but soon a tense silence filled the car. Holden drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
I bit back the urge to reassure him. I didn’t know shit until we saw Emory—and that was a whole other can of worms that wound me tighter the closer we got.
