I shrugged. I wasn’t about to get in a philosophical argument about my psyche with a priest. “Good night, Father.”
I walked away, my steps slow and steady. I embraced the cold night again once I was alone. That’s how it needed to be. When you let people in, it gave them a chance to betray you. And in the end, they always did. People were greedy assholes like that.
Scotty, whom I’d spent my life protecting since my mother hadn’t been well enough to do so, was trying to get me out of the way by either killing me or sending me back to jail. No way. I’d avoid that iron hellhole or I’d die trying.
And that was that.
The whole way home, I tried to think of the best course of action. Kill or be killed. Stay or run. Fight or flight. That envelope of cash hidden in my place burned into the back of my mind, refusing to back off. By the time I got to my apartment, I still didn’t have any answers. I stopped in front of the ratty old red-wood door of the Patriot. The fogged-up window obscured the inside of the bar, but I knew it was still open. I bet that sexy blond bartender who had challenged me last night was inside.
She was always there.
Ms. Heidi Greene.
There was something about her that called to me. In a way, she reminded me of Ma. Stubborn, strong, beautiful, and unafraid. She was like a fresh breath of spring air rising above the stench of my life. And when I touched her, I felt alive.
I’d forgotten how that felt.
She was a challenge, and things had been entirely too easy since I’d left jail behind. It was almost closing time. The bar would probably be emptying out, so she wouldn’t be able to use other customers as an excuse to ignore me. She’d intrigued me last night, with her attitude and those sparkling eyes of hers.
Dipshit Doug had practically wet himself on the docks last night, but Heidi, now, she had balls.
I liked that she wasn’t afraid to take me on.
I could go inside. Sit down on one of her wooden chairs at the bar and flirt with her. Try to take her home and fuck her. Forget about my brother and my job. The rest of the world. But I didn’t. I went home alone instead.
Unlocking the door, I entered my apartment above the mechanic shop. I ran the place, but buried beneath layers of paperwork, it belonged to the Sons of Steel Row—namely, to Tate Daniels. It was a front for money laundering. Just like everything else in my life, nothing was as it seemed.
Never would be.
After shrugging off my jacket, I rolled my sleeves up and poured myself a whiskey. Picking up my packed bag, I tossed it by the door. After a moment’s hesitation, I knelt down and unzipped the black duffel. Two blue shirts, a couple pairs of pants, my Sig, and a white envelope stared back at me. I grabbed the envelope of cash—everything I had to my name—palming it. With a sigh, I zipped the bag up and stood. Crossing my apartment, I slid the cash back into the kitchen drawer it had been in before, and bumped it closed with my hip.
I wouldn’t be running tonight. Not till I got to the bottom of this. Not till I found out if my little brother really wanted to kill me.
Tossing back the shot of whiskey, I immediately poured another. Kicking my bag aside, I stood at the window, glowering out into the darkness. From up here, I could see the alley behind Heidi’s bar. As if on cue, the door opened, and she stepped out with a bag of trash. My heart accelerated, and I watched her as I sipped my drink. She tossed the bag into the Dumpster and swiped her blond hair out of her eyes.
So beautiful.
In the moonlight, her hair looked almost white. I couldn’t see them, but I knew her eyes would be shining, too. She was that kind of woman. Shiny and pretty.
All the things I couldn’t have.
Just as I was about to turn and walk away, I saw shadows move toward her. No, not shadows. Men. Three of them. She saw them, too, and backed up one step before lifting her chin and glaring at them.
Brave. Foolish, but brave.
She should have run back inside and barricaded herself in. Her breasts rose and fell with each accelerated breath, and she held her short frame stiff.
I watched, my grip on my glass tightening. “Go inside. Don’t fight.”
The men moved closer, and she clenched her fists at her sides. She was obviously going to stand her ground. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What were the men up to? I stiffened when I recognized them. They were the ones who had been watching her last night.
The guys who I’d later figured out were Bitter Hill guys.
One of the guys went for Heidi, and she swung at him. I tensed, because the guy from Bitter Hill easily dodged the blow and delivered one of his own. For what it was worth, she barely looked fazed. If anything, she looked annoyed as she said something to them—more than likely an insult. I couldn’t help it. Her actions filled me with pride.
She was a fighter. So was I.