Page 17 of Healed
“I’m sure you’ll tell me even if I don’t ask.”
“They told me your account is overdrawn. Overdrawn Remi, as in no fucking money in it.”
“That’s impossible! I have it set up to draw from my savings account if it’s ever over-drafted,” Remi said, his voice falling silent at the end of his sentence as he realized that meant that his savings account had been drained as well.
“Who has access to your account, Remi?” Brandt asked.
“Nobody. Me, you, that’s it.”
“Then you need to go to the bank. Tell them your accounts were hacked, and stop on the way to make a police report and take a copy of it with you to the bank. Maybe they can get some of your money back. If not, at least maybe they can find out who stole your money.”
Remi pushed himself up, straightening up in the seat.
Brandt caught just half a shake of his head in his peripheral vision. “What’s that for?”
“If it’s not one thing, it’s a-damn-nother.”
“That it is. Get yourself straightened out, Remi. The only reason I’m involved is to protect you, and to protect our clan. You know there are reasons we don’t invite just anyone in.”
“I know.”
“Another question,” Brandt said as he pulled up in front of Remi’s house.
Remi looked at Brandt, his short temper obvious in his expression.
“Where’s your debit card. Maybe that’s how all your money disappeared. You seen it lately?”
“‘Livia has it,” Remi grumbled as he threw open Brandt’s door.
“What was that?” Brandt asked innocently.
“You heard me! And you’re wrong! She wouldn’t do me like that!” Remi shouted, slamming the door to Brandt’s truck as he turned his back and walked toward his house.
Brandt sat where he was, watching the male who was once one of the most dependable of his clan. He was going down inflames now, a completely loose cannon, unable to see for himself what he was allowing his life to become.
Remi stopped halfway up the driveway and looked back at Brandt, his mouth moving as he waved his arms and shouted at Brandt.
Brandt heard every single word, but decided to play stupid. He pressed the button on his door, rolling down the window. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“You fucking heard me,” Remi accused.
“Want to repeat it?” Brandt asked coldly.
“I said, where the fuck is my car?”
“Vince's. Where it’s staying until you can stop drinking long enough to sober up.”
“I’ll call ‘Livia. She’ll come take me to get it.”
“Make sure she picks you up on the highway. She’s not allowed here. Call a locksmith, too. I got your keys,” Brandt said, jingling Remi’s keys for him to see.
“You’re an asshole!”
“When I got to be,” Brandt said, smirking at Remi.
Brandt rolled up the window as he drove away, but Remi wasn’t finished.
He picked up a large rock out of the garden in the front of his house and ran out into the street, throwing it at Brandt’s truck as it drove away.
