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“Oh, no.”

“Yep, he had me. Could’ve blown me to little pieces. Except Hedeon threw a bottle at him as he brought it around. It was like slow motion, the bottle in the air, the shotgun aiming toward me, and I couldn’t turn to face him fast enough.”

“That’s insane. Seriously I kind of don’t believe you.”

“Believe it. He threw a bottle and it smashed right into the clerk’s face. Knocked him back a step and gave me time to turn and shoot. Killed the guy right then and there, left him lying bloody on the ground. First guy I ever killed.”

I felt my breath hitch and covered it with a sip. “How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Jesus.”

“I had a hard upbringing. Drunk mom, dead dad. The usual fucked up story.”

“Sixteen though. And you killed a guy.”

“Hedeon was impressed. He helped me out, you know? Taught me the ropes, got me thinking straight. Made me realize that knocking off liquor stores in the middle of the morning was probably a bad idea.”

“Right so instead you’re dealing drugs.”

“Among other things.” His eyes met mine again and he grinned. “I know what you’re thinking. That’s worse, right? But you’d be so wrong. Robbing liquor stores is a high risk, low reward proposition. Selling drugs is high risk but high reward. We pull it off, we get rich. If I manage to rob a liquor store, I get a couple hundred bucks. Not a good gamble.”

“Glad Hedeon make you think of the odds more.”

“I am too. He gave me a spot in the Crew and let me bring Clifton along, at least until he left and formed the Jackals.”

I finished the glass of whisky and sat there for a second trying to get myself together. I felt a little dizzy after his story. I tried to picture a sixteen-year-old Owain murdering a liquor store clerk in cold blood, but it was surprisingly hard. The problem was, I couldn’t picture Owain as anything but a muscular, hard-eyed man. The kid he used to be was too far removed from the man he’d become.

But we all had a past. We were all kids at some point, even the big scary gangsters.

I pushed the glass away and leaned back. “So he saved your life then. Hit some guy with a bottle and saved your ass.”

“That’s pretty much it.”

“And here you are now, thriving.”

He laughed and shrugged. “You could say that.”

“Guess I owe him too. If it weren’t for Hedeon, my brother never would have met you.”

His eyes darkened a touch. “Your brother would’ve met someone like me sooner or later.”

“You really think so?”

“Your brother was broken. I know you couldn’t see it, and maybe you don’t want to hear it— but that’s the truth.”

I felt a stab of anger rush through me. He could dangle me out there like bait in his little war and he could talk about murdering innocent people all he liked— but talking about my brother that way was a step too far.

I pushed my chair back. “You don’t know him.”

“I know him, little diamond. I know lots of guys just like him. And they always manage to find a score whether it’s me or someone else.”

“Maybe he would’ve done drugs. But you trapped him with money.”

“Would’ve been someone else then. I know you hate to hear it darling, but it’s the truth. Your brother was rotten and stupid, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“Go to hell, asshole.” I walked around the table, trying to get away from him.

He reached out and grabbed my wrist. I barely had time to suck in a breath as he yanked me toward him. I stumbled off balance and fell into his lap. I tried to get up, tried to pull my hand away, but he held my tight and kept me there.

I whipped my free hand up and out, slapping him across the face.

He grimaced and his eyes burned fire. I held my hand there then slowly dropped it back to my side. The bruising around his nose and eyes was a faded mustard yellow from where I smashed him with the metal rod but I could tell it still hurt him.

“Be mad all you want, but I’m not the enemy.” His voice was soft but still tinged with a flair of rage.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one keeping me captive.”

“Your brother dug this grave. You’re just the one that has to lie in it.”

I struggled. “Let me go.”

He held me there another second, staring up into my eyes. Then released me.

I got off his lap and took a few steps away. I turned and looked at him, prepared to give him more shit.

But in a flash, I saw all the things I’d missed:

My brother, high as a kite one night, laughing about nothing.

My brother coming into work late, week after week.


Tags: B.B. Hamel Volkov Crime Family Romance