“I can’t see her. Not tonight.” I have had enough of surprises and bad news. Her being here is the icing on the shit cake that is currently my life.
“Gentry is losing his mind and your old man is barely holding the club together.”
“They have Yara.”
“But they need their Freya.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. He knows how to play me. Convincing me that my family needs me is super rude of him, but I suck it up.
Fisher kisses me and I melt into him, thankful he’s here. Glad I don’t have to navigate this alone. It hits me like a bolt of lightning. How much I’ve missed Fisher. Missed him having my back and my front.
I missed how good we were and how good we can be.
“You ready to go in?”
“Not really, but I’m cold.”
“My Freya,” Fisher whispers, sounding nostalgic.
I can’t believe what I’m witnessing. My mother and father are seated at the bar shoulder to shoulder having a drink and engaged in civil conversation. At least I’m assuming since they aren’t at each other’s throats. Normally they can’t be in the same room together. Not since before the divorce. Nothing like a murder to bring people together I suppose. Yara is with Whiskey, sitting at a table with Gentry. That’s where Fisher and I decide to park our rears. Gentry nods at me then dives back into his conversation with our brother-in-law.
None of them are discussing the elephant in the room—our mother.
“Zuko hadn’t fucked that bitch in months. Knew she was fuckin’ trouble. Fisher knows her cunt ain’t worth the headache,” my brother states, without sparing a thought for my feelings.
“Never fucked that bitch,” Fisher grits.
“Man, whatever. We all know.”
Fisher’s chair falls back as he jumps up and snatches my brother up by his shirt. “Watch your mouth or I’m going to knock your teeth down your God damn throat.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
“Guys come on. Shit. This isn’t helping,” Whiskey attempts to make peace.
“Nah. Fuck that and fuck you,” Gentry says, spitting in Fisher’s face. All hell breaks loose as the two of them go at it, throwing punches and flipping the table over. Yara and I move out of the way. We know better than to get involved. My sister learned the hard way once when Whiskey and Fat Bastard fought. She caught an elbow to the nose.
“Let them fight it out,” Yara tells me. “Gentry’s wanted a go at him since he broke your heart.” While I’m touched my brother gives a shit about me, fighting with Fisher doesn’t do a damn thing for Zuko and his legal woes.
Finally with bloodshed happening, my father wades between them. “Enough,” he barks. My mother’s gaze catches mine. She starts toward us but I shake my head. No way. She doesn’t get to show up here and play mommy. Too little too late.
Maybe if she’d been a better mother one of her sons wouldn’t be part of a murder investigation.
Chapter Eight
Gentry’s got a mean left hook on him.
I know he’s a smart ass and pissed about Zuko but he’s not going to disrespect his sister. Not on my watch. He might not think it’s a big deal. To me though, that shit burns me up. April’s bullshit fucked my life up. Freya cut off all contact with me over that unfortunate setup. That’s all it was. The bitch setting me up to save her own skin.
That cunt was always after her next pay day. I’m surprised she was fucking Zuko. Sure the club has money but not the type of money April had her sight set on. Nah. She was mixed up with a dope dealer. Said if I helped with a drop it’d pay good. Fucking paid me all right. Paid me with a three year vacation to prison.
Freya presses an ice pack to the cut over my right brow where Gentry clocked me. “You didn’t have to trade blows with him.”
“Yeah, I did. Little prick needs to know he can’t go around saying stupid shit. Not on my watch. It wasn’t cool. Was a fucked thing to say considering.”
“Is this where I thank you for you caring so much about my delicate feelings?”
“Something like that.” I grin, the action forcing me to wince. My discomfort earns me a kiss.