Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
“The union,” he bites out, denying nothing I’ve stated.
“Which is the mob,” I remind him. “Once you owe them money, they will find a way to get the money which is why you don’t do it. Good luck to you, brother. You’re going to need it.” I flag the waitress. “Check, please.”
Isaac leans in close again. “You’re a part of this. Why do you think Dad’s in that bed right now? Why do you think Harper was attacked?”
“So you do know details of my attack?” Harper challenges.
He ignores her, his agitated attention locked on me. “Those attacks were a message to you and me. Fix this or else our people will get hurt. I’m not making this shit up.”
Which means he’s making at least some of this shit up.
“Be smart,” he says. “Aren’t you a genius?”
“It doesn’t take a genius to stay away from this,” I say.
“Your woman and your father were both attacked,” he snaps, his foot tapping under the table, a nervous tic he’s favored all his life, at least since I’ve known him. “Ignoring that sounds pretty fucking stupid to me.”
“How much do you owe?” Harper asks.
“Yes, how much do you owe, brother?”
“Five million.”
Harper gasps. I laugh. “I’ll make sure you get a really snazzy casket when the time comes.”
“Give me a stock tip,” Isaac orders, but the command is weakened by the desperate note in his tone. “I know you did that for Dad once. One that gets me the money to pay this debt off. Then it’s not your money.”
He says that statement with absolute disgust, as if that action I took has been rubbed in his face over and over. Without a doubt, it has, and I get it. Dad sucks that way. He used me to abuse him, but holy fuck, he deserves to be abused. “No,” I say simply.
“You’re a stockholder now,” he reminds me. “You think they won’t come for you?”
“I could offer my stock to the mob,” I suggest sardonically. “Will that work for you?”
His fingers curled in his palms, fists ready to lash out. “This is not a fucking game.”
I consider him a moment, his eyes all but bulging with anger, a muscle in his jaw ticking. A look he wears often. A look I know well. It’s called busted. “You’re lying,” I say. “There’s more to the story and until you tell me everything, you’re on your own.”
“You’re a fool who’s going to regret this,” Isaac snaps. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And with that threat, he starts to get up.
“What was Dad going to tell me when you had him poisoned?” I ask. “What don’t you want me to know?”
“If I was going to poison anyone, it would be you.” There’s a brutal quality to that confession and I believe him. Harper has spoken of hate often in our time together. That word was created for Isaac. He hates me.
“You’ll never get that stock tip if I’m dead, brother.”
His eyes glint and slowly shifts his attention to Harper, his eyes lingering on her a moment before he pierces me with a stare. “You’re going to help me, Eric. You just don’t know it yet.” He gets up to leave.
I read the message loud and clear. I shove my gun in my waistband, stand and step in front of him. “Do not push me, Isaac,” I warn, my voice low, lethal. “If anything happens to Harper, I will strip you down to your underwear financially and stick you in a corner with your thumb in your mouth. Now, I suggest you leave before I decide to act on my fantasies right now, and they aren’t nearly as kinky as they are bloody.” I step aside.
He smirks. “For a smart guy, you’re just as fucking stupid as ever and I predict you’ll agree with me sooner rather than later.” He starts walking away and it’s all I can do not to yank him back, take him to the bathroom and beat answers out of him. I contemplate the merit of such a plan, when Harper steps in front of me and wraps her arms around me.
“Whatever you want to do right now,” she orders, “kiss me instead.”
I might just do that, kiss her right here in the middle of the diner, drive away all the demons my brother represents with the sweet taste of her, but we’re not alone. Savage steps behind her, a grim look on his face that says he has news. And it’s not good.
Chapter one hundred thirteen
Eric
Harper senses Savage behind her and twists around to find him there. “Savage,” she gasps, and I know why. He’s sporting a black eye the size of Texas. “What happened to your eye?”
Savage’s eyes light with amusement. “Worried about me? Or sending me to my room for being a bad boy?”