I nodded.
“How many times must I tell you, you don’t bring things you aren’t willing to burn and get rid of later?”
I said nothing, knowing that if I said I didn’t realize we were going to work, that it would be a piss-poor excuse.
He simply shook his head and said nothing more as he walked away. Ethan handed the gun over to one of the guards and tried to walk toward our father, but I stopped him.
“Aren’t you going to say I told you so?”
“I never told you anything,” he replied.
I cracked my jaw to the side, but tried to stay calm. This was my fault, I knew that, but I was still annoyed! How did I not see this was going to happen. “Why didn’t you say anything? How did you know we were going to do this?”
“I didn’t know when we left the house,” he replied simply.
He was lying. “Then you just happen to wear the right pair of gloves and had a spare?”
He shook his head. “I always wear this type of glove just in case, and I always have a spare in case I need a spare.”
He wasn’t lying. What he was saying was that he was always prepared. And that I wasn’t. He said nothing else to me, then walked toward Father, closer to the car, and as he did, the snow started to fall. I watched them both talk, and even though they were close to me, they felt so far away.
“Wyatt…Wyatt.” I looked to the guard who was pointing at the rifle in my hands. For a quick second, I wanted to ask him why he’d called me Wyatt but called Ethan ‘sir.’ I wanted to ask and shoot a bullet right through his face. But I was out of bullets, so I did nothing and gave the rifle back to him.
Next time…I won’t screw up. I’ll be prepared.
WYATT – NOW
Opening my eyes, I looked up at the sunroof, the dark heavy clouds crawling through the sky and covering the moon.
“Why do they call you Monk, Mannix?” I asked, lifting the cigarette I’d been smoking back up to my mouth as I leaned into the seat.
His amber eyes looked back in the mirror at me. “It’s just a nickname, sir—”
“No one just gets a nickname for no reason, especially in our line of work,” I replied, cracking the window slightly, the cold air rushing in as I blew out smoke. “Why do they call you Monk?”
“I’m tall and lanky with the face of a teenager,” he said bitterly, looking in the car’s side mirror. “So, when I was an actual teenager, they called me Monk because they say no woman in her right mind would fuck me and so I’d be better off joining a monastery. When I started to work for your family, most of the other guys already knew me as Monk so the name stuck.”
I sighed, trying not to laugh. “How did I know? I swear, everyone lacks creativity.”
“What’ch you mean, sir?” he questioned, turning back to me. I just shook my head, asking another question instead.
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“If Monk is an insult, why do you let them call you that?”
He grinned. “Cause it’s funny as hell when I’m fucking their women.”
I grinned, too, nodding my head. “I’ll call you Mannix then, and since Greyson is…a little under the weather, you’ll be the go-to man between the family and the guards. You do understand how big of a job that is, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You understand what can happen to you if you screw up, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” I said, stomping out the cigarette on the back of my glove before checking the time. “Now tell them to begin.”
I didn’t say anything more, flicking the cigarette up in front with him before stepping out of the car. The wooden door to Melody’s Garden was already held open for me, despite the fact that it was already well past closing.