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Authors: Cora Brent

Risk (Gentry Boys #2) (19 page)

BOOK: Risk (Gentry Boys #2)
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CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Truly

 

After leaving Creed I went straight to work.  I tied an apron around my waist and I smiled pleasantly at the customers.  But inside I was numb.  I finally had to admit to myself just how much Creed Gentry meant to me.  It should have been wonderful but instead it was terrible.  I remembered feeling this way before.  It was years ago, in a lonely hospital bed.  I remembered staring at a calendar on the wall and hating it for all the days it contained.  I didn’t want to face any more days.  But life doesn’t give you that option.  It just keeps going and if you have an ounce of spirit left in you then you do your damn best to get through it.   

Saylor had the night off and I didn’t know whether to be glad about that or not.  I missed her at work, but she was also a reminder of everything I might lose. 

Mega bitch Julie knocked into me a few times when my hands were full but I didn’t do anything about it. I just didn’t have it in me.

Time passed with excruciating slowness. Around seven pm I figured I should eat something so I took a break.  I grabbed a sandwich from the kitchen and sat down at a table.  I shouldn’t have done that.  When I looked across at the empty chair all I could see was Creedence. I’ve never been a frequent crier, yet the waterworks turned on all by themselves for the second time that day.  I stared into my lap and silently watched the tears fall into it. 

“Truly,” said a voice that was firm but not unkind.  “Please come to my office.” 

Julie was smirking at me as I followed Ed into the closet-like office beyond the restrooms.  I sat miserably in a metal folding chair across from his desk as he settled into his own chair and frowned at me.  Dimly I wondered if I was about to get fired. 

Ed cleared his throat.  “Look I know I’m just the jerk who sits behind the desk and gives you crap about how to do your job.”  He sighed.  “But I’m not completely awful.” 

A picture on his desk caught my eye.  It was Ed standing on the shoreline of a pristine beach.  Beside him was a sweet-faced woman who must have been his wife.  His hands were resting on the shoulders of two little boys. 

“I know you’re not,” I told him.

He nodded.  “You’re a very responsible young lady.  A good worker.”  He laced his fingers together on his desk and gave me a long, appraising look.  “Truly, do you need a few days off?”

I was surprised.  I’d expected to hear words more along the lines of, “Get your shit together and serve some chicken.” 

“I can’t lose my job,” I told him flatly. 

Ed smiled.  “I believe we can make it without you for a few days.  Please return when you can.  Your job will still be here.” 

I nearly began sobbing again. Really, I was turning into something of a basket case.  But after spending hours teetering on an emotional edge, I was nothing but grateful to meet with unexpected kindness. 

“Thank you,” I whispered.  I stood up and took the two steps to the door. 

“Truly?” Ed ventured.  I turned around.  He was staring at the photo of his family.  “Just because things aren’t ideal doesn’t mean they’re not worth keeping.”  I didn’t know what made him say that.  I figured he was talking about himself, about the mix of joys and disappointments he’d known in his life.  I thanked him again and left. 

No one talked to me as I grabbed my purse and ran out the door.  It wasn’t quite dark yet and on any other night I would have been counting down the hours until I was in Creed’s arms.  I started my car and miserably realized I couldn’t go to him, remembering what Declan Gentry had said.  


Don’t show him that shit.  It’ll mess with his head
.”

I drove home instead. 

Honestly, I’d clean forgotten all about my troubled roommate and her bat-swinging ways until I reached my door.  I had to knock because I hadn’t yet replaced the key I’d broken earlier. 

Stephanie must have been hunkered down in the living room because she answered within a few seconds.  She was wearing a long black t-shirt reaching nearly to her knees and her hair appeared damp.  She smelled like shampoo and still carried her bat. 

“Hey Steph,” I said warily, feeling some guilt over how I’d forgotten about her as soon as I’d stepped out the door with Saylor. 

She picked a book up off the couch and peered between the vinyl slats of the patio blinds.  “I fixed it,” she said.  “The door, I mean.” 

“Thanks.  I’ll get a new key tomorrow.”  I pointed to the book she was clutching to her chest.  “What are you reading?”

Stephanie held it up for me. 


The Hobbit
?” I was surprised.  Somehow the classic fantasy tale didn’t seem very Stephanie-like. 

She gave me a tired smile.  “For sentimental reasons.” 

I cleared my throat.  “Sugar, I think it’s time you and I had a talk.” 

“Fine,” she sighed.  “But don’t call me sugar.” 

I waited until she sat on the couch before joining her.  She realized she still had the bat in one hand and the book in the other.  She dropped both of them on the floor.

“So what the hell, Steph?  Whose kneecaps are you looking to bust and why?”

She lowered her head.  Her damp curls hid her face.  “I many have pissed some people off, that’s all.  I know they pissed
me
off.”

Stephanie looked at me.  As I waited for her to continue I got the impression she was sorting through her own thoughts, trying to make a decision about what she wanted to share.  Eventually she put her hands on her knees and exhaled deeply.  She looked very small just then.   

“You know how I pay for school?” she blurted. 

“How would I know that?  You’re not the most forthcoming gal in the state.”

“I take bets, Truly.”

I had no idea what to make of that statement.  “Bets on what?”

“Sports.  All kinds.  Football to dog races.”

“So you’re a…” I searched for the word.  “Bookie?”

“Yeah.”  She pulled her shirt over her knees in a childish gesture as she looked down.  “You could call it the family business if you wanted to be cynical.  My dad’s in the middle of serving a decade upstate. New York, that is. He crossed the line and got nailed for fixing some horse shit.” 

“What kind of horse shit?”

“Literally horse shit.  Horse races.” 

“Oh,” I said a little awkwardly.  I was trying to digest her confession.  Stephanie’s eyes widened when I broke into raucous laughter.  “And here I thought you were a lady of the night.” 

She seemed confused so I clarified.  “A call girl, Steph.  I figured you were a prostitute.” 

“Really?”  She looked down at herself and gave a sarcastic laugh.  “Doubt I’d command a high price at the moment.” 

“You’d clean up nice.  I know the look of quality when I see it.” 

Stephanie sighed and leaned back.  She looked at the wall.  “Maybe for my next career.” 

“Steph?  Who is trying to hurt you?”

Her expression was instantly dark. She hugged her arms around her body and grimaced, closing her eyes as if something terrible had just flashed before her. 

Gently I put a hand on her shoulder.  “Honey, did someone already hurt you?”

She shook her head.  “No.”  A tear rolled down her cheek. “No, they didn’t hurt me.  Not in they you’re thinking of.  They…” Stephanie’s voice trailed off and she swiped at her eyes.  “They humiliated me,” she finished in a whisper. 

I didn’t know what that meant.  I waited for her to tell me but she wouldn’t.  Or couldn’t.

“Anyway, they better not try any more shit.”  She picked up her bat and rapped it on her palm.  “Pops taught me how to do damage.”  She paused, staring down at the bat.  “Unless they show up with something sharper than this.”

“Or louder,” I said pointedly. 

“Yeah,” she agreed.  “Or louder.”  Stephanie gave me a sad look.  “Sorry, Truly.  I should have been straight with you sooner.” 

“Hmmm,” I grumbled.  “That’s kind of a running slogan this week.”

I put a hand on my forehead and laughed again because that was all I could do.  Life became several shades of surreal when your boyfriend was getting ready for an underground gladiator brawl and your roommate ran an illegal gambling ring. 

Stephanie waited until I was done.  “Something else wrong?”

“Nothing.  Boy trouble.”

She smiled slowly.  “I like the ogre.  He seems like he’s no bullshit.” 

I stood, put my hands on my hips and pulled my roommate to her feet.  “You’re right about that, Miss Bransky.  Creedence Gentry is definitely no bullshit.” 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CREED

 

Having it all set up already was a strange sort of relief.   I could stop wondering.  I could stop trying to numb the horror of uncertainty with booze.  On the other hand, there was a also a desperate feeling that if I didn’t do everything right fucking now then I wouldn’t get to do it at all.  Truly was on my mind constantly.  Had I finally been capable of losing my head over a girl because of the added pressure or in spite of it?  It didn’t make a difference; I was all in where she was concerned. 

“I think I found one,” Saylor said.  She turned her laptop in my direction.  I read the listing as she summarized, ticking off on her fingers.  “Good working condition, maybe needs some oiling and a belt.  You think that’s it?”

“Yeah,” I told her.  “I think that’s it.”

I made a call and spoke to a woman whose wavering voice made me wonder if she was the original owner of the antique appliance.   I offered the asking price and arranged to pick the thing up the next day. 

Chase came home in the late afternoon.  He seemed a little stunned to see Saylor and I being all chummy, sitting on the couch and playing video games.   But after a minute he shrugged, threw down his backpack and sat between us.  He tried to grab the game controller out of my hand and laughed when I swatted him. 

“Deck’s here,” I said. 

Chase’s blue eyes looked carefully around the living room.  “Really?  Is he hiding from me?”

“He had to run out for a little while.  He’ll be back.”

“Oh.” He yawned.  “What’s for dinner?”

“I don’t know,” Saylor shrugged.  “What are you making?”

Chase didn’t like that answer.  “Where’s Truly?” he grumbled.  “She’d cook for me.” 

I saw Saylor pinch him at the mention of Truly’s name. 

“That hurt,” he complained. 

Saylor rolled her eyes.  “Give me a break.  You know what you need, Chasyn?  You need to stop the random screwing and find some sweet little domestic goddess who bakes you cookies and rubs your back.” 

Chase mulled that over.  “Will she rub other things too?”

“It’ll be a prerequisite.” 

“Right on.  Where might I find such a paragon of womanhood?”

“Try the year 1956.” 

Chase stared at her.  “You’ve gained weight, doll.  What is our Cordero feeding you?” 

Saylor jumped up and stared down at her body.  “I have
not
gained weight you obnoxious little prick.” 

I shoved him.  “Stop fucking with her, Chase.” 

Chase was offended.  “Oh, like you guys are a team now?   Guess what? I figured out that our soon-to-be Mrs. Gentry has a secret.  A big one.  Well, right now it’s a little one but give it a few months.” 

“He knows,” Saylor told him cheerfully. 

That took the wind out of Chase’s sails a little.  He pouted.  “You told
him
before you told
me
?” 

“He guessed.  He knows me too well.  How did you figure it out, anyway?”

Chase pointed to her stomach and grinned.  “You shouldn’t wear those form fitting sundresses anymore unless you want to advertise the bun in the oven.  You’re bustin’ out already, sweetheart.” 

Saylor reddened but Chase jumped up and wrapped her in a firm hug.  “I’m just teasing.  Congratulations, honey.  Cord’s gonna be a great daddy.” 

She lit up with happiness.  “I know.  He’s excited.”

Chase raised an eyebrow.  “Am I still helping you plan the wedding?”

“Yes. We’ve just kind of tabled it for now.  We’re waiting until-“  She broke off abruptly and looked my way.  I knew what she was going to say though.  They were waiting until all the fight shit was sorted out.  I couldn’t stand the way her face fell.  I couldn’t have that, not in the midst of what should have been a happy moment of celebration. 

I slung my arm around Chase’s shoulder.  “So do we get to walk you down the aisle?”

Saylor smiled a little.  “I think Cord will want you standing up next to him.” 

Chase stared at her stomach curiously.  “Just how many do you think are in there?”  He knelt down and started talking to her abdomen.  “Hello!  It’s Uncle Chase.”  He turned around and explained to me.  “The earlier the fetus gets used to the sound of your voice the more responsive it will be to your presence when it emerges.” 

Saylor backed away from him, laughing out loud.  “Is that so, professor?”

“It is,” he nodded seriously.  He tugged at me.  “Come on, Creedence.  Talk to the baby.” 

“I’m not talking to the baby.  The baby doesn’t even have ears yet.” 

“No imagination.” Chase shook his head. 

I sighed and picked up my guitar.  “I’ll one up you, junior.”  I started to tune the strings and then launched right into
‘Danny’s Song’
.  It was what I’d sung the first time I ever picked up a guitar in front of Saylor.  I didn’t know if she’d remember or not. 

Chase led her back to the couch and they sat down together.  I went through the entire song, losing myself in the music as I always did.  When I finished the last note and looked up I saw them both wearing identically tragic expressions. 

“Dammit,” I whispered, setting the guitar down.  Everything always came back to the fight.  The only comfort I got from everyone’s pain was the knowledge that soon, one way or another, it would be over. 

Bullshit.

Lying to yourself is a fucked up thing to do.  It’s like pulling the covers over your head in the hopes the monster in your bedroom won’t see the outline of your body.  It’s futile.  It’s cowardly.  If I wasn’t able to make it home in two nights then only
my
pain would be over.  For the rest of them who’d been left behind, it would go on forever. 

We all made a valiant effort to be cheerful when Cord came home.  Chase kept patting him on the shoulder and calling him ‘Daddy’.  Cord held tight to Saylor and tried to smile but when he glanced my way I saw the way his mouth turned down.  I also saw the crease between his eyebrows; it always appeared when he was upset.   It would likely be there until he was an old man. 

Declan strolled in casually a short time later.  Cord seemed perplexed to see him.  Deck gave Cord a hard handshake and then turned to Chase. 

“Hey, man.  You blazed out of town so quick a few weeks back we didn’t get to talk.” 

Chase closed his eyes briefly and then raised his chin, directing an intense glare at Declan.

“That’s right,” he said.  “We didn’t talk.” 

Deck stared back for a moment then gave a short nod, signifying he understood whatever silent warning Chase was issuing. 

But Cord was curious now.  “You were down in Emblem?” he pressed Chase.  “When?”

“Few weeks back.”   Chase shrugged.  “I went for a drive.  It’s not important.” 

I could tell from Cord’s narrowed eyes that he felt differently.   I felt differently too.  The last time the three of us ventured down to Emblem was to proudly offer our mess of a mother a big piece of our carefully saved cash.  We’d gotten word that Benton was in lockup for a little while and we figured maybe that fact plus the money would be enough to jump start Maggie Gentry.  We should have known better.  She grabbed the money out of my hand, gave us all an unfocused grin and then shuffled back into the trailer.  It had been a cloudy late autumn day and the sweat rolling off my body had nothing to do with the weather.  I collected my brothers and sped out of that bad memory as fast as I could. 

I hadn’t returned.  If I never saw the place I came from again it would sit just fine with me.  To my knowledge, Chase and Cord hadn’t gone back since then either. 

“Did you take my car?” Saylor asked Chase and for once she sounded irritated with him.  “I remember that.  You used up nearly a whole tank of gas.” 

Deck clapped his hands together all of a sudden.  The sound was loud.  “Let’s get some pizza, kids.”  He elbowed me.  “I’ll treat if you drive.” 

I didn’t know what was up with Deck since he wasn’t a guy to beat around the bush, but he obviously had something to say to me and he didn’t want to do it in front of a crowd.  Deck settled beside me in the pickup and as I swiveled to back the truck up I caught sight of his profile.  I could swear I was looking at a darker-skinned Uncle Chrome.   I didn’t bring that up though.  Deck had a troubled relationship with his father.  Chrome was gone more often than not, leaving Declan and his mother to carve out a meager existence smack in the middle of Gentry chaos.  Since Chrome’s messy death several years earlier, I’d never heard Deck speak his name. 

“So what is it?” I asked when we got out to the road.  “You manage to track down those rumors?”

“I paid some visits,” he answered slowly.  “I didn’t like what I found out.  You’re not gonna like it either.” 

Deck’s grim manner made was making me sweat a little.  If Declan thought things were bad, then things were
bad

My cousin shifted. He smelled of leather.  “This dipshit you’re going up against?  Even before he got to that poor slob the other night, he was in the habit of killing.  And these were no shanks in the shower, my friend.  This was some messy shit.  Well, somewhere along the way he scored a benefactor.  He was locked up for Murder One and should be sitting up there for decades to come, yet here he is.  Word has it he was turned loose on a legal technicality, but there are also whispers that it was something more sinister.  Something orchestrated by people who can get something out of him.”

I grunted.  This wasn’t welcome news but it wasn’t exactly surprising. 

Declan wasn’t done talking yet though.  “You know that fucker who’s sponsoring you?”

I raised my eyebrows.  “Gabe?”

“Gabe,” Declan spat.  “He ain’t exactly got your best interests in mind.  You think he’s backing you?  It’s just a fucking game show and you’re supposed to be the loser.  Creed, they’re tossing you out there like a mouse being set before a snake.” 

“Shit,” I swore, pounding the steering wheel, more incensed at my own stupidity than anything else.  It had never crossed my mind that Gabe would be betting against me. 

Declan looked as miserable as I’d ever seen him.  “I’m sorry man.  All the fucking favors I’ve got in the bank don’t mean a goddamn thing here.”

“Not your fault,” I coughed.  “Can’t expect you to swoop in and save me from my own recklessness.” 

“I never had no brothers, “ Declan muttered.  “At least none that I ever knew about.”  He gave me an arch look.  “I always thought of you three as my little brothers. I tried to take your place, Creed.  I would have.  Those men ain’t havin’ it though.  They’re billing this shit as a battle of Aryan brawn and I don’t fit the profile. I’m not telling you this because I’m looking for thanks or for fucking tears. I just want you to know that I’m in your corner.” 

We were pulling up to the pizza joint.  I turned the engine off and breathed deeply. 

“So what the hell do I do, Declan?”

He didn’t mince words.  “You gotta win, Creedence.  By any means necessary.  You gotta remove every shred of mercy and make it so there’s nothing left of that fucker.”

My cousin is telling me I need to kill a man if I want to live. 

“Would that even end it, Deck?  Would it?”

He couldn’t answer either way. 

 

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