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“Don’t pity me,” he gritted out.
Slowly, she raised her hand and cupped his jaw. Her insides were flayed open, and her heart, bleeding. How much could one man take?
“It’s not pity. I hurt for your hurt. I want to take it away. I want you to feel how much you mean to me.” Her hand slid behind his neck. “Please don’t give up on us.”
He stared into her eyes for two heartbeats, then swept her into his arms. Crushing her against his chest, he murmured into her hair. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. But if you want me, I’m yours. For as long as you want, however you want, I am yours.”
She was starting to get light-headed when he finally eased his grip.
“I don’t know how we’re going to make this work,” he breathed, “but I swear I’ll do anything I can to find a way.”
He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.
Her mouth still tingled as he let himself out the front door.
***
Brick
Brick returned to work the next day, though he had some trouble holding on to his tools. His hands had come a long way since the fight Friday, but they still had some healing left to do. Kane quietly stepped in whenever he struggled.
He tried to call his grandma at lunch, but the nurse gave him the runaround with some bullshit about how the doctor would call him. It would have made him nervous if he hadn’t received a picture of her in her dressing gown taking a bite of what appeared to be oatmeal for breakfast. If he couldn’t get her on the phone, he’d go visit in a few days. As much as he hated those pictures, occasionally they were as much of a blessing as a curse.
Wednesday night, Sucre summoned him to El Cabron. He went with his heart in his throat, sure his bastard of a boss would have some other degrading hoop for him to jump through.
When he arrived, though, Sucre, missing his regular gaggle of girls, sat on his throne with Tre on one side and a younger guy on the other.
He only spared the kid a glance at first, but something pushed him to do a double-take. The boy looked eerily similar to Tre, but instead of projecting bravado, his face was very serious. No flashy clothes, he wore jeans and a dark hoodie and stared at the wall across the room.
Damn.
He would bet all the cash in his coffee table he was looking at Olivia’s missing student. Gaze focused back on his boss, he advanced toward the throne. “Sir.”
Sucre tossed him the phone he’d taken at the apartment. “Brick, I want to introduce you to the newest member of our little family.” He gestured to the teenager in the hoodie. “This is Devon. He’s going to be learning the ropes over the next few weeks.”
The kid flashed a look at him briefly, and Brick nodded his head. In his peripheral vision, he could make out Tre’s clenched fists and tight jaw.
“Young Devon is Tre’s brother by blood. I’m sure they’ll both be able to bring something special to the table.” Sucre turned to Tre. “You’ll welcome your little brother to the fold with open arms, won’t you?”
For a moment, he thought the fool would be crazy enough to tell Sucre no. Tre’s eyes drew to slits and his mouth, a thin line. Ultimately, though, he managed to grit out an unconvincing, “Yes, sir.”
Sucre clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Devon’s already been doing some small assignments for me. We’ll start revving things up a little later in the week. Brick, I want you to go over the outstanding accounts with Tre. His brother and I have some quality time we need to spend together now.”
Apparently, Sucre wasn’t going to say anything about the scene he’d made Saturday or the video he’d texted from his phone. Fine. But Brick wasn’t fool enough to think his boss had let it go.
As Sucre led Devon toward his office, Brick could only hope the man’s harem waited back there as a surprise for the boy. The alternative was too disheartening to consider. Either way, there was nothing he could do to affect the outcome.
He motioned Tre to the bar where the bartender was already popping open two longnecks. They sat on the old leather stools.
“Where are you on your collections?” he asked before taking a swig of his Budweiser.
Tre didn’t answer. His fingernails dug into the scuffed wood in front of them.
Brick cleared his throat. “I understand if you’re worried about your brother.”
“Worried?” Tre scoffed. “I’m not fucking worried. I’m pissed.” He gripped his beer and guzzled it down. “This is my gig. Last thing I need is perfect little D coming along and trying to do it better than me. He needs to stick to his own shit.”
“You think he wants to be here right now?”
