The loud chatter of Cade’s family cocoons me like a warm security blanket as I bring the glass to my lips. This time, I don’t sink it back, just sip.
I have nothing to worry about—they’ll protect me.
I have nothing to run from—I dealt with him.
What do I do now?
I close my eyes and maybe it’s the Jameson, but I see my mom, smiling at me.
“Live, Isabelle, just live…”
Despite the crazy day, I smile and gently tip my glass to her.
For the first time ever, that feels possible.
24
CADE
When our SUV got pulled over on the ride from Aidan Jr.’s building back to mine, it was only Lucas who stopped me from trying to beat the shit out of the cop who asked me for my ID when I wasn’t even speeding and sure as hell didn’t have a busted taillight.
At first, I’d thought it was about Davis, but the BS I was booked with were trumped-up charges that had that fucker Davis and his bloody stumps for fingers all over them.
Grateful that I’d stopped at Lucas’s place to shower and clean up after the meeting with Davis or the situation would have been more difficult to resolve, my brother called in Aidan, who called in whoever, and within two hours, I was back out on the streets.
Yet, upon returning home, it’s to find a cleanup crew in the hallway.
Gaping at Lucas as I practically trip over a member of the team scrubbing bloodstains out of the floorboards, I demand, “You didn’t think to tell me there was a bloodbath in the front fucking hall at any point during the journey home?”
He shrugs. “Didn’t want you freaking out in the cop station.”
“Well, consider me freaked out. What about the ride home? You could have told me then, dickwad.”
“You were too busy bitching about the situation.” His eyes gleam, which tells me he did this on fucking purpose.
“You’re an asshole,” I growl. “What the hell happened?”
The gleam fades, and with a grimace that I can feel in my bones because today has beenlong, he rubs the back of his neck. “As far as I can tell, Davis hired a grunt to pose as a fed. When Ma didn’t open the door fast enough, he opened it by force. The bastard knocked her out.”
Eyes flaring wide, I bite off, “Goddammit, you should have told me sooner!”
“Nah, you can see for yourself that she’s fine if you stop asking me stupid fucking questions and go into her apartment.” He rolls his eyes. “I swear, half my job is crisis management and figuring out how to tell big kids shit in a way that prevents a gang war.” He tugs his fingers through his hair and continues, “Anyhow, Kitty texted me and because I was near, I got here quickly but not quick enough to stop shit going down how it did.
“Davis forced his way in with the grunt. When I got here, Kitty proved her lessons with Vinny and watermelons hadn’t been forgotten, but her throat was a mess because Davis held her at knifepoint before your woman took care of him. I have no idea why she was armed.”
My woman.
Damn, I like the sound of that.
Then, the rest of what he said catches up with me.
“Is Kitty okay?”
“Her throat’s sliced up some, but mostly, yeah. She’s buzzing—you know what she’s like. Fucking bloodthirsty. The doctor says she’ll be fine, just has to keep it clean.”
“And Ma?”
“Headache. The force left her bruised and stiff but she’s good.”