Better When He's Bad
Page 40
Race snorted and had to sit down. His injuries weren’t as severe as mine, but he most definitely wasn’t in tip-top form.
“If he breaks your heart, I’m going to kill him.”
“What if I break his?” I had to laugh a little, which I instantly regretted, as it felt like acid was being poured across my chest as Race groaned and shoved his fists into his eye sockets.
“This is going to suck for me, isn’t it?”
“Come on, if anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s us.”
“I don’t know about Bax, but you, Dovie, you deserve the best of everything.”
He was right, I did, and I was going to get it, even if my “everything” was going to make me work for it.
CHAPTER 17
Bax
THREE MONTHS WAS NOTHING compared to five years. I could do three months locked up standing on my head. Well, I could’ve done it without blinking if I hadn’t actually had something to lose this time. I spent every day, every minute, every second, breaking down and dissecting what could have happened differently. Even though I refused to see him, to see anyone but the feds that were hounding me over and over again, Titus bullied his way in. I knew Dovie had almost died. I knew she was having a really hard time sitting by while I was locked up, and I knew it broke her heart every time she tried to come and see me and I told the guards to send her home.
There was nothing that could be done about it. I didn’t want her to see me in convict orange, didn’t want her to fold and try and tell the feds she was really the one who had put the bullet in Novak. So even though it tasted like dust and ash all along my tongue, I refused to see her, and after about the fifth time, she stopped coming. So I lay awake at night, stared at a cement ceiling, and turned it over and over trying to think of all the ways I could have done better by her, could have prevented her from ever being a part of any of it. The answer was really simple when I broke it down. I should have kept my hands off of her, left her alone. That way, at least, had she gotten tangled up with Novak, it would have fallen on Race’s hands, on his conscience, not mine.
The feds had wanted to keep me locked up for a lot longer. My reputation was preceding me, and the fact that I had bad blood was not lost on them. Only I was way more useful as a witness and I had enough dirt on the rest of Novak’s operation that eventually, they had had to cut a deal that involved time served and probation. Titus was pissed. The fed he had turned the case over to was dragging his feet on getting me sprung, and Titus knew it. He said it was because I refused to go into protective custody. They wanted me to move, wanted me to go play house in some nice, quiet suburb and change my name until the case went to trial against the last of the crew, but I refused. I didn’t know how to live anywhere but in the Point, and I had never been the type to hide.
Really, now that Novak was gone, I was probably the scariest guy left on the streets, and I was still mad enough about Dovie getting hurt, about Gus getting murdered, about Race having to give up his life and taking a beat-down, that I didn’t think anyone was going to be brave enough to try and take me on.
I didn’t just think about all the ways I should have done better by Dovie. I thought about her mouth, her pale, freckled skin, and the way her hair twisted and turned like it had a life of its own. I remembered the way her eyes glowed from dark green to bright jade when I was inside of her, the way she called me “Shane” when she was turned on, and the way she used “Bax” to remind me that she thought there were two sides of me and one scared her on the regular. It sucked that she was right to be afraid of him, because he had caused her nothing but hurt and trouble. And it extra sucked because there was enough of Shane in me to know that now that I had been out for two weeks, the best thing was just to forget her and let her live a safe and happy life away from everything Bax brought with him.
Two weeks of freedom. Two weeks of spinning my wheels and trying to figure out what my next move should be. So far, all I had come up with was getting super drunk pretty much every night and blatantly looking for a fight whenever anyone so much as looked at me sideways. I was being reckless and stupid. I knew it and I couldn’t stop it. In all of my life, whatever had been handed to me, I had just accepted it as part of what living hard and rough meant. I was never dissatisfied, knew I had done my fair share of really f**ked-up shit that I needed to atone for, but I had never been unhappy or felt like I was missing something. Now I did, and I hated it. I felt carved out, felt wrong, and just on the fine line of keeping it together and not going all-out crazy.
I was at my shithole apartment in the center of town, and about halfway through a handle of cheap whiskey, when my brother walked in without knocking. Somewhere along the line I had subconsciously dropped the “half” every time I thought about him as my sibling. And considering he was the only real tie I had to what I wanted most, I tried to play nice as best as I could, even though I still had some issues with the way he had let the whole show play out with Novak.
“What are you doing here?”
At least that’s what I meant to ask, but I was pretty wasted and my tongue didn’t feel like it was working right.
Titus took one look at me and sighed. He walked over to where the giant handle of whiskey was sitting on the floor by the bed and scooped it up. I should have protested when he dumped it down the sink, but I didn’t have the energy or the fortitude to get into it with him.
“A lawyer contacted me today.”
“So what? Lawyers have been crawling all over my ass since I got out.”
“That’s because you’re a star witness, and if you go and do something stupid to ruin what little credibility you have, it can put Benny and the rest of Novak’s crew back on the street. They’re trying to make you keep your nose clean.”
I swiped a hand across my face and bared my teeth in a ferocious facsimile of a smile. “All clean, big bro.”
“You’re acting like a dumb-ass.”
“Whatever. What do you want, Titus?”
“Gus’s estate is getting closed in the next few days. He left pretty much everything he had to his wife. But the garage and the cars . . .” Titus’s blue eyes were sharp as he stared at me. “He left that to you.”
My head was fuzzy and I tried to sit up all the way, only to have the room tip on its side and my stomach start to roll in protest.
“The garage . . . it’s yours. You just need to get your stupid shit straightened out and go sign off on the paperwork. I guess the lawyer handling the estate has been trying to get in touch with you, but apparently, you don’t want to talk to anyone.”
I closed my eyes and threw an arm over my eyes. I smelled bad, I felt bad, I looked bad. I was bad.
“Nothing to say to anyone.”
“Really? Maybe a phone call to your best friend to tell him you’re happy he made it out alive? A call to your mom to let her know you’re out of lockup? A call to your girl to let her know you miss her and that you’re sorry for being an ass? Jesus Christ, Bax. You should see her. It was almost impossible to get her to agree to keep her mouth shut, and then you go and break her heart on top of it. She thinks you blame her, thinks you won’t talk to her because you had to go back behind bars for her. You need to make things right with Dovie. No one is ever going to love you the way that girl does. Go home, Bax. Fix this, make a life for yourself for once.”
“I almost got her killed.”
I wasn’t sure I said the words, but I felt them, tasted them, and lived with them like a lead weight on my chest every minute of every day.
Titus sighed and I heard the old chair creak as he lowered his body into it.
“Yeah, well, that was a perfect storm of bad timing. Yes, she is vulnerable because of you, because of Race, but isn’t it better to keep her close rather than let her face it on her own? Just because you aren’t physically around her doesn’t mean anyone, and I mean anyone, is going to forget the lengths you were willing to go to set her free. Pointing a loaded gun at your head sends one hell of a message, Bax. Everyone in that warehouse got it loud and clear.”
My chest rose and fell, air rushing in and out of my lungs, but I didn’t feel like I was breathing. I didn’t feel like I was anything. “She deserves better.”
He snorted and I had to turn my head and crack an eye to look at him. “She was sold out to Novak’s guys by someone she considered a friend, her own father put a hit out on her, she has a junkie mom, a brother who plays with fire, and she’s in love with you . . . yeah she deserves better, but this is what her life looks like, Bax. There is no better, there is just making do and being happy with what you have. She’s a good girl, she’s lived with all the same darkness, the same struggle, as you have, and yet she manages to still be soft, still manages to see the good in guys like you and Race. Don’t f**k this up, it will be the worst decision you have made to date—and holy hell, have there been a lot of bad decisions made on your part over the years.”
I halfheartedly threw a pillow at him, but he just caught it and chucked it back at my head, making me wince when it landed with a thunk on my tortured skull.
“Why do you care?”
“Because you’re my brother. Because even if you don’t see it, you deserve better, too. Do something with the garage. Do something with the girl. Do something with your life, Bax. This time, you can’t blame being the bad guy on not having any other options.”
His words landed on me like physical blows. I was drunk, but even under the blanket of booze and denial, I couldn’t hide from the truth of his words.
“What if I take the garage and do something with it you won’t like?”
He groaned and shoved to his feet. “Are you seriously telling a cop you plan on running a chop shop?”
I would have laughed if I didn’t think it would make me puke. “No, I’m telling my brother I might not have the most illustrious plans for the future. You think you can handle that?”
“I’ll handle it the same way I always have. I love you, Bax, but if you break the law and I catch you, I will put you back in jail. Now that you know what it’s like to be behind bars when you have something to lose, I’m hoping going forward that it might be enough to keep you on the right side of the law.”
I cracked a grin and slowly swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I looked around the sad little apartment and realized it was the last place I wanted to be.
“At the very least it makes me motivated to not get caught.”
“You are an epic pain in the ass. You know that, right?”
Getting to my feet was a little bit trickier than just sitting up. I needed all the coffee in the Point and a shower the temperature of Satan’s hot tub to get my head working right.
“I have been told that a time or two. Do you know where she is? Did she go back to that crap apartment across from the diner?” I figured the “she” didn’t need any further explanation.
Titus shook his head and moved toward the door. “I think she was tired of me harping on her to keep her mouth shut about the shooting. She took the news about her friend sending Novak’s boys pretty well, but I think it still stung. I haven’t talked to her since you got out. Race is still staying in the loft above the garage, but she isn’t there.”
A sharp and icy sliver of rage worked its way through the boozy haze.
“Who was the friend? The blonde from the restaurant?” Dovie didn’t have very many friends, or people she was close to, so the suspects were limited.
“No. They worked together at the group home, but before you get all worked up and think about doing something idiotic, you should know the feds scooped her up as a material witness as well. She took them up on the offer to relocate so you can’t get to her.”
I glared at him, even though it hurt like a bitch. I swayed a little on my feet, which totally ruined the badass, threatening look I was trying to throw at him. “But you can.”
“If he breaks your heart, I’m going to kill him.”
“What if I break his?” I had to laugh a little, which I instantly regretted, as it felt like acid was being poured across my chest as Race groaned and shoved his fists into his eye sockets.
“This is going to suck for me, isn’t it?”
“Come on, if anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s us.”
“I don’t know about Bax, but you, Dovie, you deserve the best of everything.”
He was right, I did, and I was going to get it, even if my “everything” was going to make me work for it.
CHAPTER 17
Bax
THREE MONTHS WAS NOTHING compared to five years. I could do three months locked up standing on my head. Well, I could’ve done it without blinking if I hadn’t actually had something to lose this time. I spent every day, every minute, every second, breaking down and dissecting what could have happened differently. Even though I refused to see him, to see anyone but the feds that were hounding me over and over again, Titus bullied his way in. I knew Dovie had almost died. I knew she was having a really hard time sitting by while I was locked up, and I knew it broke her heart every time she tried to come and see me and I told the guards to send her home.
There was nothing that could be done about it. I didn’t want her to see me in convict orange, didn’t want her to fold and try and tell the feds she was really the one who had put the bullet in Novak. So even though it tasted like dust and ash all along my tongue, I refused to see her, and after about the fifth time, she stopped coming. So I lay awake at night, stared at a cement ceiling, and turned it over and over trying to think of all the ways I could have done better by her, could have prevented her from ever being a part of any of it. The answer was really simple when I broke it down. I should have kept my hands off of her, left her alone. That way, at least, had she gotten tangled up with Novak, it would have fallen on Race’s hands, on his conscience, not mine.
The feds had wanted to keep me locked up for a lot longer. My reputation was preceding me, and the fact that I had bad blood was not lost on them. Only I was way more useful as a witness and I had enough dirt on the rest of Novak’s operation that eventually, they had had to cut a deal that involved time served and probation. Titus was pissed. The fed he had turned the case over to was dragging his feet on getting me sprung, and Titus knew it. He said it was because I refused to go into protective custody. They wanted me to move, wanted me to go play house in some nice, quiet suburb and change my name until the case went to trial against the last of the crew, but I refused. I didn’t know how to live anywhere but in the Point, and I had never been the type to hide.
Really, now that Novak was gone, I was probably the scariest guy left on the streets, and I was still mad enough about Dovie getting hurt, about Gus getting murdered, about Race having to give up his life and taking a beat-down, that I didn’t think anyone was going to be brave enough to try and take me on.
I didn’t just think about all the ways I should have done better by Dovie. I thought about her mouth, her pale, freckled skin, and the way her hair twisted and turned like it had a life of its own. I remembered the way her eyes glowed from dark green to bright jade when I was inside of her, the way she called me “Shane” when she was turned on, and the way she used “Bax” to remind me that she thought there were two sides of me and one scared her on the regular. It sucked that she was right to be afraid of him, because he had caused her nothing but hurt and trouble. And it extra sucked because there was enough of Shane in me to know that now that I had been out for two weeks, the best thing was just to forget her and let her live a safe and happy life away from everything Bax brought with him.
Two weeks of freedom. Two weeks of spinning my wheels and trying to figure out what my next move should be. So far, all I had come up with was getting super drunk pretty much every night and blatantly looking for a fight whenever anyone so much as looked at me sideways. I was being reckless and stupid. I knew it and I couldn’t stop it. In all of my life, whatever had been handed to me, I had just accepted it as part of what living hard and rough meant. I was never dissatisfied, knew I had done my fair share of really f**ked-up shit that I needed to atone for, but I had never been unhappy or felt like I was missing something. Now I did, and I hated it. I felt carved out, felt wrong, and just on the fine line of keeping it together and not going all-out crazy.
I was at my shithole apartment in the center of town, and about halfway through a handle of cheap whiskey, when my brother walked in without knocking. Somewhere along the line I had subconsciously dropped the “half” every time I thought about him as my sibling. And considering he was the only real tie I had to what I wanted most, I tried to play nice as best as I could, even though I still had some issues with the way he had let the whole show play out with Novak.
“What are you doing here?”
At least that’s what I meant to ask, but I was pretty wasted and my tongue didn’t feel like it was working right.
Titus took one look at me and sighed. He walked over to where the giant handle of whiskey was sitting on the floor by the bed and scooped it up. I should have protested when he dumped it down the sink, but I didn’t have the energy or the fortitude to get into it with him.
“A lawyer contacted me today.”
“So what? Lawyers have been crawling all over my ass since I got out.”
“That’s because you’re a star witness, and if you go and do something stupid to ruin what little credibility you have, it can put Benny and the rest of Novak’s crew back on the street. They’re trying to make you keep your nose clean.”
I swiped a hand across my face and bared my teeth in a ferocious facsimile of a smile. “All clean, big bro.”
“You’re acting like a dumb-ass.”
“Whatever. What do you want, Titus?”
“Gus’s estate is getting closed in the next few days. He left pretty much everything he had to his wife. But the garage and the cars . . .” Titus’s blue eyes were sharp as he stared at me. “He left that to you.”
My head was fuzzy and I tried to sit up all the way, only to have the room tip on its side and my stomach start to roll in protest.
“The garage . . . it’s yours. You just need to get your stupid shit straightened out and go sign off on the paperwork. I guess the lawyer handling the estate has been trying to get in touch with you, but apparently, you don’t want to talk to anyone.”
I closed my eyes and threw an arm over my eyes. I smelled bad, I felt bad, I looked bad. I was bad.
“Nothing to say to anyone.”
“Really? Maybe a phone call to your best friend to tell him you’re happy he made it out alive? A call to your mom to let her know you’re out of lockup? A call to your girl to let her know you miss her and that you’re sorry for being an ass? Jesus Christ, Bax. You should see her. It was almost impossible to get her to agree to keep her mouth shut, and then you go and break her heart on top of it. She thinks you blame her, thinks you won’t talk to her because you had to go back behind bars for her. You need to make things right with Dovie. No one is ever going to love you the way that girl does. Go home, Bax. Fix this, make a life for yourself for once.”
“I almost got her killed.”
I wasn’t sure I said the words, but I felt them, tasted them, and lived with them like a lead weight on my chest every minute of every day.
Titus sighed and I heard the old chair creak as he lowered his body into it.
“Yeah, well, that was a perfect storm of bad timing. Yes, she is vulnerable because of you, because of Race, but isn’t it better to keep her close rather than let her face it on her own? Just because you aren’t physically around her doesn’t mean anyone, and I mean anyone, is going to forget the lengths you were willing to go to set her free. Pointing a loaded gun at your head sends one hell of a message, Bax. Everyone in that warehouse got it loud and clear.”
My chest rose and fell, air rushing in and out of my lungs, but I didn’t feel like I was breathing. I didn’t feel like I was anything. “She deserves better.”
He snorted and I had to turn my head and crack an eye to look at him. “She was sold out to Novak’s guys by someone she considered a friend, her own father put a hit out on her, she has a junkie mom, a brother who plays with fire, and she’s in love with you . . . yeah she deserves better, but this is what her life looks like, Bax. There is no better, there is just making do and being happy with what you have. She’s a good girl, she’s lived with all the same darkness, the same struggle, as you have, and yet she manages to still be soft, still manages to see the good in guys like you and Race. Don’t f**k this up, it will be the worst decision you have made to date—and holy hell, have there been a lot of bad decisions made on your part over the years.”
I halfheartedly threw a pillow at him, but he just caught it and chucked it back at my head, making me wince when it landed with a thunk on my tortured skull.
“Why do you care?”
“Because you’re my brother. Because even if you don’t see it, you deserve better, too. Do something with the garage. Do something with the girl. Do something with your life, Bax. This time, you can’t blame being the bad guy on not having any other options.”
His words landed on me like physical blows. I was drunk, but even under the blanket of booze and denial, I couldn’t hide from the truth of his words.
“What if I take the garage and do something with it you won’t like?”
He groaned and shoved to his feet. “Are you seriously telling a cop you plan on running a chop shop?”
I would have laughed if I didn’t think it would make me puke. “No, I’m telling my brother I might not have the most illustrious plans for the future. You think you can handle that?”
“I’ll handle it the same way I always have. I love you, Bax, but if you break the law and I catch you, I will put you back in jail. Now that you know what it’s like to be behind bars when you have something to lose, I’m hoping going forward that it might be enough to keep you on the right side of the law.”
I cracked a grin and slowly swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I looked around the sad little apartment and realized it was the last place I wanted to be.
“At the very least it makes me motivated to not get caught.”
“You are an epic pain in the ass. You know that, right?”
Getting to my feet was a little bit trickier than just sitting up. I needed all the coffee in the Point and a shower the temperature of Satan’s hot tub to get my head working right.
“I have been told that a time or two. Do you know where she is? Did she go back to that crap apartment across from the diner?” I figured the “she” didn’t need any further explanation.
Titus shook his head and moved toward the door. “I think she was tired of me harping on her to keep her mouth shut about the shooting. She took the news about her friend sending Novak’s boys pretty well, but I think it still stung. I haven’t talked to her since you got out. Race is still staying in the loft above the garage, but she isn’t there.”
A sharp and icy sliver of rage worked its way through the boozy haze.
“Who was the friend? The blonde from the restaurant?” Dovie didn’t have very many friends, or people she was close to, so the suspects were limited.
“No. They worked together at the group home, but before you get all worked up and think about doing something idiotic, you should know the feds scooped her up as a material witness as well. She took them up on the offer to relocate so you can’t get to her.”
I glared at him, even though it hurt like a bitch. I swayed a little on my feet, which totally ruined the badass, threatening look I was trying to throw at him. “But you can.”
