Page 25 of Reckless Forever
“Nigga you need medication,” Jaxon said as we walked through the vineyard.
“Stop acting like that nigga don’t always got some shit to say when we at the table.” They couldn’t say anything. They knew. Trouble had been wanting to kill that nigga for years.
“What y’all about to get into?” Trouble asked before we all got into our trucks.
“Shit, going back to the hotel. KD and Storm are coming in the morning,” Jax answered. Trouble nodded, and we all shook hands before we got into the trucks.
I had never cared about being the unmarried, single brother until now. Their wives are on the way here, and my girl was in Bolivia. My girl.
I shook my head at the term and then took out my phone.
Ivy had sent me a picture of her in the mirror, standing in my white T-shirt, her hair down. I noticed that she stopped wearing it in a bun all the time when I told her that I liked it down. I didn’t realize how big our height difference was until I saw her inside the shirt. It was swallowing her little ass.
Ivy: I’m scared to wash this; it smells just like your natural body scent.
Me: You look like a fucking ghost, Ma. A pretty ghost.
She called me, laughing and cursing me out. She was still in the middle of work; I could hear some talk about the weather in the background as we talked. It was almost night here in Italy, but it was only midday there.
I talked to her as we drove through the dirt roads and into the hotel, which I had visited many times over the years. I kept my voice low as I stretched out in the backseat and dusted off the speck of dirt that had gotten on my loafers.
“You really wore my shit to work? Is a T-shirt your uniform today?” I asked, watching the vineyards roll outside of the thick tint on the window.
“I changed as soon as they said we didn’t have to be on camera today. It’s comfortable. And it smells like you. Don’t act like you don’t like it,” she said, her voice soft over the phone.
I smirked. “I ain’t gone hold you, Ma. I do. But now you gone have me at the Summit thinking about you walking around in my clothes instead of handing business.” I admitted.
“That sounds like a you problem, Judah.” I could hear her smile in her voice. Papers shuffled in the background, someone called her name in Spanish, and she lowered her voice.
“Si?” She asked before putting me on hold to answer a question. Then she came back to the phone.
“You miss me?”
I closed my eyes for a second because I didn’t know how to respond. Shit caught me off guard, and I probably took longer than I should have to answer the question.
“Never mind then,” She chuckled. I could hear the disappointment in her voice.
“Yeah,” I finally answered. “Probably more than I wanted you to know.”
She went quiet for a beat, and then she laughed, soft and nervous, like she didn’t know what to do with my honesty.
Then she asked me about how things were going in Italy. I kept it brief with her, not wanting to discuss too much of the business, but not shutting down her question. Then I heard a knock on her door.
“I’ll call you back when I’m done talking to Padrino. Don’t work too hard.” She said before she hung up the phone without giving me a chance to respond.
I shook my head. We were too grown for this sneaking shit. Santos didn’t know that my patience was running thin. I was fifteen seconds from walking onto his estate and telling him that he could get her back in blood.
When she hung up, I stared at the black screen for a second longer than I should’ve. My chest felt heavy in a way that wasn’t Judah. My whole body felt weighed down.
The trucks pulled into the hotel gates, and guards with machine guns strapped to their chests stood on guard outside. They pressed a button that allowed the gate to open, and our fleet drove through it. This was the hotel that all the elite members stayed at during their visits. It was heavily guarded by the Italian secret service. Once we stopped in front of the building, I slipped my phone back in my pocket and straightened up, pulling my mind back where it needed to be.
Ivy was a welcome distraction, but The Black Table didn’t give a fuck about how good she looked in my shirt. Here, I had to stay focused, keep my head on a swivel, and prove to these niggas why I had my seat at the table.
Still, I could feel the effect that she had on me in my chest. I knew that keeping her out of the business was the least of my worries.
CHAPTER 8
Ivy
