Eric says, “You had no right to take that money and—“
“Listen, you two. I had every right,” Dax says pointedly. “I’m twenty-five this week. The trust is in my name. I and I alone got to decide how we spent that money. You’re fucking lucky I didn’t take it and spend it all on a Camaro for myself and tell your sorry, ungrateful asses to fuck off. This is for us to build something for our entire family’s future.”
Eric’s mouth snaps closed. He looks at the building again, narrows his eyes and shakes his head.
Vincent is sitting in the cab of the truck, ear buds stuffed in, listening to music on his phone. We couldn’t even get him to leave the truck. At least the other two got out, if that can be seen as progress. Vincent didn’t even thank Dax for setting aside the money for his college education. Dax said he wants to go the Camaro route, too. He has a new girlfriend he’s trying to impress, so all he’s been doing is making back-handed remarks about how Dax can have me, but god forbid anyone else in the family tries to get some.
Without warning, Dax bangs on the side of the truck. “Wob! Out!” he shouts.
Vincent doesn’t move. He mutters something about sucking his dick.
Dax’s face turns rigid. He stalks around to the side of the truck, pulls open the door, and yanks Vincent out of the car. Vincent, deer-in-headlights, stumbles into the lot, then as he’s trying to straighten, Dax grabs the wires for his ear buds and pulls them out of his ears. The three brothers straighten into military ranks immediately. They know not to mess with their older brother when he’s pissed.
“I don’t give a shit what you three think,” he barks at them, glaring at each one in turn. “This is what’s going to happen. Whatever we have to do, even if it means giving up your fucking blessed Cheeto Sunday for the next few months, we’ll make it work. Got it?”
They all look at each other and then nod.
I grin and reach into the back of the truck, pulling out a broom, mop, and a crate with other cleaning supplies. Dax takes the heavy crate from me and starts to head into the apartment so we can get to work. Now that we’ve closed on the property, Dax and I have every hope of staying in the apartment tonight and making as much noise as we damn well feel like.
Dax suddenly switches direction and comes back up to me. He smacks Vincent on the head as I struggle to bring in another heavy crate of stuff. “Help her, Fuckface,” he seethes. “For god’s sake, show that someone raised you right.”
Vincent glares at me as he takes the crate from my hands. The rest of them do the same as they stalk past me.
I whisper to Dax, “I think they think I pressured you into this.”
He considers this. “They won’t for long.”
I follow him into the apartment, where he drops everything on the ground, picks up a broom, and bangs it hard on the ground.
“Listen. I made this decision. Alone. And why? The old garage is falling apart. It needs a lot of work. The building needs a new septic system and all the equipment is shit. We could either invest the money in fixing that place up, or we look forward. We move onto bigger things,” he says to them, waving his arms around, his green eyes fierce. “We have to embrace change. This place isn’t just my future. It’s our future. Not just Katie’s and mine. Yours, too. Katie is a part of this, like it or not. But if you don’t like it, know that I’m going to make your life a living hell.”
Their gazes all drop to the ground, rather than look at me.
“Got it?” he barks.
They all nod half-heartedly.
As Dax takes his brothers back to the garage to start the workday, I have to grin. I throw my hair into a ponytail and get started. I work like a woman possessed on removing the thick layer of dust from everything, opening the windows and getting the musty smell out, and scrubbing every surface of all the grime. By the time Dax comes back, the sun is starting to set. I smell the pizza the second he opens the door.
“Food!” I scream, lunging at him like a charging bull.
He holds up a six pack. “And beer.”
He looks around the kitchen. Even with all my hard work, it still needs a lot more TLC before its presentable. From the look on his face, I know he’s not thrilled. “It’s slow going, but we’ll get there—I promise.”
He looks down at the floor. He grins appreciatively. “Floors look great.”
He unbuttons and sheds his work shirt, then drops the pizza on the counter and starts to wash his hands at the sink. It’s funny, he’s standing there next to a pizza, and I haven’t eaten all day, and yet what I’m drooling for right now is him. I wrap my arms around him from behind and kiss him on one exquisitely sculpted bare shoulder blade. His body is so rigid. “You think your brothers are okay with this?”