Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)

“Yes. I know.” He raises a brow to go with the grimace he flashes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His grimace turns to a frown. “Only that you have been a predictable piece of the puzzle for many parties involved.”

Ouch.

That kinda hurt.

Someone was actually counting on me being me.

Thomas sees that he’s made his point and moves on.

“About two or so years ago another player entered the game. Completely outside of the police department. Said he represented some very important people. People who wanted to improve the economy.”

He waits for my mind to play catch up but I’m already there. Immediately, Graham Black comes to mind.

“Go on.”

“He wanted me to hand over members of my gang, my family, to his contacts to show he was doing his job. Cleaning up the city, he called it.”

“And?”

“I told him to go fuck himself.”

Classic.

I’d laugh, except Thomas adds another tidbit of information to that enlightenment.

“When my brother’s death was announced on the news, I knew immediately what had really happened. Before long, his face was being plastered all over the area as a drug dealer and murderer.”

Jesus fucking A.

My mood just crashed and burned.

“I’m sorry, man.”

Why I’m sorry, I have no idea, because helloooooo, gangbangers. But still, a part of me wants to rip Graham Black’s head off for pulling something as low as that shit.

“The next time I was contacted by that man, I wasn’t so quick to tell him to fuck off.”

The way he says it, combined with the look of regret and purpose he’s giving me, tells me everything else I need to know.

Everything I don’t particularly want to know.

He looks away. Ashamed maybe. Air leaves me and my gut clenches.

“You gave him Donnie’s name.” I can barely fucking say it. The kid’s face flashes in front of my eyes. I think about the sincerity in his expression and how he grinned over to wish me luck the night of that drag race.

“They killed my brother.” Thomas’s rage is growing. “All the fucking work I did.” He scowls at the buildings that stand abandoned across from us. “The money I invested to protect him. To keep my brother out of this shithole. It was all for nothing.” Anger bubbles out him uncontrolled now.

I’m right there with him.

“And you fucked another kid. Right in the ass.”

He spins on me. The gun Dice brought him at his side now. I hadn’t even noticed he’d taken it.

“What would you have me do, Stiles?” He waves the gun at me. “You want me to keep saying no to him, and he kills someone else I love?”

I can’t really say I give a shit if he shoots me at this point or not.

It might just put me out of my own misery.

So I lay it on him straight.

“Donnie was getting out, Tom. He wanted something more than this shithole.” To put it in familiar terms for him.

“Yeah? Well, so did my brother.”

At this point, he doesn’t give a fuck either.

I want to choke the life out of this asshole.

“You give him Stix’s name?”

Swear to fucking God, I’ll actually do it if he says yes.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t.”

I’m relieved in a way. I also believe him. Why would he lie at this point?

Lucky for you, dickhead.

I have to remember to breathe in and out for a while after that. It’s quiet on the street with Thomas holding his gun and me with nothing on me because I left that shit in the car like a fucking idiot.

“You gonna shoot me now?” I may as well put it out there, right?

He tilts his neck to stretch it out. “I’m thinking about it.”

“So what’s the fucking verdict?”

He looks over at me. “I still don’t like you much, Stiles.”

“Feeling’s mutual.” And fuck you, by the way.

“But I think you might be growing on me.”

Wish I could say the same.

Instead of making that a known fact, I keep my mouth shut. For now.

“Then let me fucking help you.”

“We’re handling it.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

“You got the information you came for. It’s time for you to go.”

“But I─”

“Goodbye, Jack.”

He starts to leave me, but I can’t have this conversation end like this.

“Thomas. When my kid brother…” Shit, this sounded better in my fucking head. It was easier, too. I’d drop it all together except Thomas’s attention is back on me, and I’m pretty sure if he feels like I’m wasting his time here, he might just change his mind about capping a bullet into my head.

I like my head the way it is.

“When Mikey died, I wanted to crawl into a fucking hole and die myself. I blamed myself for a long time.”

Who am I kidding?

“Okay, I still blame myself. And maybe you’ll always blame yourself for Robert’s death. But you have the opportunity to do something here.”

His eyes fall for only a second but I see it.

Hell, I see it every day I look in the mirror.

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