Not everyone in the family fucks rich dudes to get shit paid for.
Naomi spit those words at her earlier, and at the time, I presumed it was just out of anger because Naomi seems to have been dealt an even harder hand than Sylvie has, but maybe there’s some truth to it.
I pull my phone out and dial Max. I need to get a bead on this Will Varon and quick.
Chapter 13
Sylvie
“Tony’s place,” Will tells the driver when I climb inside the vehicle.
I try not to get irritated that he’s got his phone to his ear rather than having opened the door for me, but although politeness and chivalry is a thing common with all the Cerberus guys, I guess I shouldn’t expect that same level from anyone else. Cerberus are the few that still extend any sort of effort that way, not the majority.
I find it a little weird that he knows exactly where I need to be taken without even asking, but the guy was always good at reading situations. It rankles a little that he’s referring to Big Daddy’s former home as Tony’s rather than Naomi’s but I haven’t been around for a while.
Will doesn’t speak into his phone, and as the driver pulls away from the store, he slides it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
“You’ve done well for yourself,” I say, my eyes slowly drifting from his coat back up to his eyes.
I remember a time when I could get lost in their darkness, how easy it was for me to forget all the things I wanted out of life when this man was near. The memories are still there, but time, distance, and just experiencing life, has dulled all of that for me.
“I’m in real estate,” he answers. “What about you?”
“I’m not in real estate,” I say with a quick grin.
He doesn’t laugh like I expect him to, like the Will I once knew would. Life, it seems, has toughened him up as well.
“Are you married? Kids?”
I shake my head. “Never married. No kids. I don’t see my life ever going in that direction.”
He makes a sound of agreement as the driver of the SUV we’re in pulls back up to Naomi’s house.
Will had as much, or as little, I should say, as I did growing up. He’s walked me to this front door more times than I can count, but today I’m more embarrassed than ever.
“I hate the condition this house is in,” I mutter as I reach for the handles on the plastic grocery sack full of baby items for Naomi.
“Tony’s in jail.”
“Naomi mentioned a misunderstanding at the bar,” I say, my eyes locked on the front door.
Will chuckles, a low, devilish sound without a hint of humor.
“Do you know any of the details?” I ask, but he shakes his head.
“It’s a small town and people talk, but I couldn’t tell you what’s rumor and what’s truth.” He looks past me at the front door. “Do you want me to come inside with you?”
“No. It won’t take long,” I tell him, pushing open the door and stepping out onto the driveway that’s more weeds even now in the winter than the gravel it was when I was a child.
I’m not avoiding an in-depth conversation with Will like I would with Spade. Will grew up with just as little as I did, so he would understand easier. Spade admitted to growing up in what he felt was a loving family. Even after his dad died on the job as a cop, his mother still did everything to keep his life as normal as she could. That is until she killed herself shortly after he went into the military. He confessed softly during the breaks of our wild night of sex that he thinks her suicide would’ve been easier had he seen it coming, but she did very well at masking her depression.
I keep my eyes locked on the front door rather than dwelling about the condition of the yard or even the discarded boxes on the front porch. There are more important issues inside.
I lift my hand to knock, but Naomi pulls the door open before I can make contact with the wood.
“I brought some formula for the baby. Threw in a pack of diapers and wipes.”
“Charity,” Naomi snaps.