“Hmm, Sean, how much do you have on you?”
Sean answers instantly. “Around three hundred and change.”
I turn to Ginger. “Ginger? What about you? How much is in your wallet?”
“I just filled up, so around forty dollars. Why?”
“Because only a loser without a care in the fucking world is unaware of how much money they have in their pocket, and that’s because they’re content with someone else doing all the heavy lifting.”
Reaching into Jeffrey’s back pocket, I pull out his pathetic Velcro wallet and glance over at Marie. “I see your tastes have changed drastically since high school, and you’re only getting classier with age.” Ginger snorts as Marie glares at me. “I told you to go pack his shit.”
“Dom—”
“Go soothe your screaming baby and pack his shit!” Sean snaps at her, and her eyes widen in a way that she knows arguing is futile. She turns on her heels as I fix my stare back to the cesspool she’s chosen to play father figure. I release him enough to keep him pinned with my elbow while I sort through his wallet. I pull out his license and hand it to Sean, who studies it. I pluck out a bag of powder inside the billfold and toss it at his feet before holding the wallet open for him.
“I’m guessing this is the full sum of your net worth right here. This is all you have?”
“Yeah.”
“Take the money out and give it to Ginger.”
“It’s all I got.”
“Technically, it’s not,” I correct. “What’s the street value of the powder?”
“Eighty dollars,” he replies, searching all sets of eyes on him for help that’s not coming.
“Eyes on me.” He lifts blown pupils to mine. “Give the money to Ginger.”
He hastily snatches the money from the wallet and thrusts it toward her. I can practically hear the crack in his back as I reprimand him for bad manners, and the bills float to the ground before Ginger has a chance to reach them. Jeffrey whimpers when I press my forearm against his neck. “Now, Jeffrey, simple mathematics will tell you you’re leaving with twice as much as you just gave her. But my guess is that you’re going to smoke your entire net worth before you reach the highway.”
Marie bounds out of the apartment with a trash bag, her son on her hip. His tiny chest bounces with his hiccups due to the strength of his cries. My resolve only strengthens as I rip my eyes away from him while I try to rid him of the monster that sleeps too close to his crib.
“Is that everything, Marie? We don’t want to give him an excuse for another house call.”
Sean reaches for the bag as she answers me. “It’s everything.”
I keep my eyes trained on the crackhead as Sean drops his shit in the back of his truck. “You’re packed, but if anything is missing, you can live without it.”
Jeffrey dips his chin in reply.
“Need to hear you say it,” Sean instructs as I press in, and he winces, agony etched on his features.
“Right. R-Right, if anything is missing, I can live without it.”
Releasing him, I step back as Jeffrey quickly grabs his only priority—his bag of dope—and grips the handle of his truck. Eyeing me for my next move, I step back and allow him the space to get in. It’s when he’s safely inside and fires up his truck that I tap his window with my Glock. Jeffrey’s eyes bulge at the sight of it before he hesitantly cracks his window a fraction.
“Don’t call. Don’t write. You won’t be missed.” Jeffrey nods, and I step away as he floors the gas, speeding out of the parking space and biting the curb hard with his exit.
Marie turns to Ginger with a glare, adjusting Toby on her hip. “I fucking hate you.”
“You’re next,” I tell Marie. “And if you so much as utter another disrespectful word to the person putting a roof over you and your son’s head, it will be now rather than later.” She opens her mouth and thinks better of it before stomping off and slamming the apartment door. Ginger turns to me, the relief on her face enough even if she voices it. “Thank you.”
“He’ll be back,” I warn, “and she’ll let him in while you’re working. When that happens, text me.”
She nods half a dozen times, her expression filled with gratitude. “Okay. I will. Thank you. Really, I’m sorry—”
“You know he isn’t the problem, right?” I tell her.
“I do, but she’s the only family I have, even if she’s a nightmare.”
“I can relate.”
Sean chuckles at my reply—one of the rare few who gets the joke as Ginger eyes me in a way I used to welcome when in need of a distraction. I can read her invitation before she voices it. “Do you want to come in?” She looks between me and Sean. “Uh, both of you? I’ve got some beer.”
“I’ve got shit to do,” I tell her. She nods, expecting the answer I gave.
“Okay, well, I’m around if you change your mind.”
“Text me if he comes back,” I turn and stalk toward my car.
“Night, Sean. Thank you.”
“No problem, Ginger, see you,” Sean says before catching up with me.
“She grew up a stunner, didn’t she? Your first crush in junior high.”
I don’t take his bait as he continues, trailing me to my Camaro.
“Something tells me this favor was sentimental in nature, but you always did have a thing for redheads.”
“I grew out of her a long fucking time ago,” I tell him honestly. What I don’t say is that I grew out of this town after my freshman year in Boston. Coming back hasn’t at all felt like a homecoming. Years out of Triple Falls did exactly what my brother predicted it would do. It boosted my ambition to a different level—pivoting my aspirations on a much bigger scale—which only adds to my unrest. If Tyler feels the same after his years away, he doesn’t voice it. Aside from his few trips during my college years, Triple Falls is all Sean has ever known. But if given the choice, I don’t think he’d ever venture too far away from the county line. This town is in his blood. I don’t fault him for it, but it distances us a little in mindset, which only adds to the growing gap between us. “I didn’t need you playing good cop. I had it fucking handled.”
“Then why did you call me here?” A question he answers for himself. “We both know if he had fifty more pounds on him, this would have been a shit show. You have got to get a handle on whatever is festering inside you. And if it’s Cecelia—”
“It’s not. I’ve made my decision. We’re moving forward.”
“You sure, man?”
Gripping my door handle, I glance over at him. “Whatever it takes.”
“Get that asshole out of my pool,” Cecelia orders Sean from the lounger they’ve been bickering on since we got here.
I press my lips together.
Sorry mouse, the water feels too fucking good.
Sun-drenched and weightless for the first time in fuck knows how long, I crack open my beer and survey the yard. Tyler makes quick work of unpacking our cooler as Cecelia gives Sean hell for not having her back during our little showdown.