“Bet on it.”
“Good, because in three months, I’ll be in my own foreign country,” he mutters.
“Boston isn’t a foreign country.”
“It is to me,” he says contemplatively. “I’ve never been out of Triple Falls.”
The truth of that eats at me—but he was needed here—and I think his resentment is fading because he knows it’s the truth. Without him, we wouldn’t have made it this far this fast. He seems to read my thoughts.
“I can skip it,” he offers up easily, too easily. “You know I can. Tuition is expensive and—”
“No. The longer you stay in Triple Falls, the more you’ll remain a small-town thinker. School is a jumping point for you, it will be uncomfortable at first, but it will do you good, and deep down, you want to go. Sean will survive without you for a few years. And don’t worry about tuition, you leave that to me.”
He gives a small dip of his chin.
“Look at me, Dom.”
His eyes cut from the road to me.
“It’s your turn.”
A brief flash of anticipation lights his eyes before he flits them back to the road.
“While you’re there, you ease up on your part-time job, and that’s a fucking order.”
“I’m being smart about it. And I have to admit,” one side of his mouth lifts, “what we’re doing feels good. It’s a rush.”
“The best kind,” I agree, my own lips lifting. “Just pull back some, so you can focus.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” He gives me a mock salute. “How was Paris?”
“Nothing new.”
Dom floors the Camaro the second we’re on the highway, putting every bit of horsepower under the hood to work. I keep the paternal reprimand dancing on the tip of my tongue and indulge him, enjoying the ride as his brother. In the last year, since I’ve resided in Triple Falls more often than not, we’ve grown closer, strengthening the club while we set our strategy in motion.
Like Sean and Tyler, Dom’s grown into his own man, maybe more so than the other two, a man I respect and admire. The fact that I still have to go back to France every six weeks to satiate Antoine and keep him at bay grates on me, but I’ve got my own reasons for being there. Our first international chapter continues to grow with the addition of a few relatives I managed to find who have proven their worth.
And Exodus business is fucking booming.
Studying my brother’s profile, I’m amazed at the change in his build, no trace left of the little boy who was terrified of the chickenpox. He’s become even more bold, fearless, cunning, and cocky to a point it’s now an ingrained trait. He knows exactly who he is, and that fills me with pride because when I was his age, I struggled with a little identity dilemma. He feels my watchful gaze on him and glances my way, his next question more of a demand.
“Tell me about France.”
“Nothing to tell. Don’t get curious. And don’t waste your time.”
“What does he have on you?” It’s a subject he’s broached more than once that I’ve refused to entertain. But I have to give him something, or he won’t leave it alone.
“My youth. He’s nothing but a resource, one we may need down the line. I have him under control, but let me make myself clear, my business with him has nothing to do with us. Not a single fucking thing. This is my shit to deal with, not yours. If you ever step in, we’re going to have a serious fucking problem. Leave it the fuck alone.”
Dom’s nostrils flare as seconds tick past, and I hate that we’re already at odds. But I understand why he won’t let it go, and I would be just as adamant if I thought there was any threat to him. He wants to have my back, but I refuse to let him have it on this. I kick back in my seat, changing the subject because I don’t want him to know just how much this particular gamble weighs on me. Antoine’s becoming more predictable at this point, which makes his presence in my life less worrisome. “What’s the plan for tonight?”