New York Crime Kings Box Set: Books 1-4 (39 page)

I pull her in, pressing her cheek against my chest, resting my chin on the top of her head. I reflect back on Joel’s behavior the past few days. He doesn’t sleep, he spaces out, and has extreme bouts of anger. Twice I’ve walked in on him, his eyes red-rimmed and wet. He loves her. He loves her harder than I’ve seen him love anything and with or without me, he’s going back for the girl.

Brothers

Emily

I finish running the towel over my hair and drop it to the floor. A spattering of droplets coat the bathroom mirror and I lean in close to check the skull tattoo on my collarbone. It has healed completely, its black ink marking my skin for the rest of my life. I scratch at it.

Yep. It’s real.

I don’t know why I keep expecting it to rub off. I suck air into my cheeks and blow it out. I fucking hate it. I hate that it’s a skull and what it represents.

Fear and possession.

It’s the symbol of a psychopath who suffered through a horrific, unspeakable tragedy and decided to do unto others as he had done unto him. It’s sick. To make others feel the pain he felt in the moment his wife and his unborn baby were ripped from his life is...is…not something I want to think about before breakfast. Anything Skull related usually has the power to turn my stomach and, since the smell of bacon hangs so deliciously in the air, I don’t want that to happen this morning.

Sighing, I pluck the purple hair brush from the basin and run it through my long hair. It catches on tangles and knots, but, with a little girl power, I manage to brush them free. I don’t usually put a lot of effort into my morning rituals, but since Jai’s brother ‘moved’ in I feel the need to try a little harder. It’s kind of stupid, but I want to be up to par with the standards he undoubtedly has for his baby brother.

Placing the brush on the basin, I stick my fingers in my hair and give it a little shake, adding just the right amount of ‘mess’. I don’t want to look like I spent too much time on my appearance intentionally. I lean in close to the mirror, checking the light touch of make-up I applied. I never thought I’d ever admit it, but the right mascara can do wonders for a plain face.

I straighten my spine, flick my long, dark hair over my shoulders, and smooth my palms down the front of my worn, black Lynyrd Skynyrd tee. It’s my favorite. I stole it from a guy I slept with once when I was a slightly younger, slightly stupider, woman. To be honest, it was the highlight of my year—the shirt, not the sex. Everything about the sex was “mediocre”. If you know what I mean.

Leaving the bathroom, I follow the smell of breakfast foods all the way to the kitchen. I feel the tension in the air as soon as I enter the room. It’s thick. Suffocating. I didn’t expect to see so much hostility between the brothers. The way Jai described his relationship with his brother was a bond unlike any other. I assumed Joel was his best friend.

Not anymore, apparently.

Disappointment exudes from Jai in waves as he rest on his elbow, lightly stabbing his fork into a slice of banana. The mood in the room is depressing and awkward, dampening my joy of the breakfast foods laid out on the bench in front of me. Like Jai, Joel also has a knack for cooking. Since being here at the lake house I’ve put on weight. It’s not much, but my hip bones aren’t as sharp as they were weeks ago and my face is fuller. I kind of like the look. It’s the body of a woman who is well looked after and, dare I say it without jinxing myself, happy.

At the stove, Joel has his back to me as he fries up what smells a little something like salmon. Like Jai, Joel keeps himself in fantastic condition. His body is an orgy of muscle. He’s taller than Jai, but not by much and while Jai’s muscles are built wide, making him thick, Joel is lean.

I glance at the ink on Joel’s back. It’s a picture—a mixture of black ink and shadows with light smatterings of color.

Skulls and fire.

Men and women.

Vicious murder and total anarchy.

Joel glances over the curve of his shoulder from the stove. Dark circles surround his eyes. I guess he’s still not getting much sleep.

“Good morning.”

Immediately, I drop my stare to the bench, heat flaring into my cheeks.

“Good morning.” I say, making it my mission to sound extra chipper instead of disturbed as hell by the tattoos on his back.

I have one tattoo—one—and it hurt like hell. How’d he bring himself to cover his entire body? How long did it take? How much did it cost? I peer up at him and he tilts his head on the slightest angle, analyzing me with his dark blue eyes—eyes that match his brothers. Did he notice my gawking?

“You don’t like tattoos?” He asks, looking back to the pan.

He slips a long, metal spatula underneath a slice of salmon and flips it. While he’s preoccupied, I glance at Jai and he rolls his eyes. My lips pull at the corners as he takes a large mouthful of water out of his cup, and pulls out the stool beside him.

“Sure.” I reply, circling the bench and slipping on to the stool. “I like yours just fine.”

With a genuine smile, Joel pulls the pan off the heat and approaches us before dumping a heap of salmon on to a small plate. I glance over the bench. Does he expect the three of us to eat all of this food? There’s too much. Bacon, salmon, scrambled eggs, sausages, and pancakes. Where does he expect us to store it all?

“Good. Maybe you can convince my brother here that tattoos don’t make me a monster.”

Jai frowns, his jaw tightening. “I never said they make you a monster. I said—”

“It smells good.” I cut in, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of another one of their never-ending arguments.

Joel and Jai watch as I pluck four straps of bacon and five tablespoons of egg onto my plate. My stomach cramps in anticipation, desperate for me to scoop up a forkful and stuff it into my mouth.

“Hungry?” Jai asks, a sweet smile hinting at the corners of his lips.

I give him a smile of my own while I stab at the bacon and the scrambled egg with my fork, piling it on layer by layer. “Famished.”

I just love breakfast foods. I could eat them at every meal for the rest of my life. Joel gives Jai a look—a cocked eyebrow and a quirk in his lip—which Jai responds to with a single laugh.

“Breakfast foods are her favorite. Ice cream too.”

I stuff a forkful in my mouth and savor the taste. “Mm. You’re almost as good as Jai when it comes to cooking breakfast.”

Joel smiles, astonished. His white teeth are straight and beaming, surprisingly. He places the pan on the bench and tosses the towel over his shoulder. “I still can’t believe Jai cooks.”

I nod, a mouth full of food, and Jai pushes his bowl away.

“I had to learn.” He states, his tone gruff and forceful. “Someone had to cook for Jessica.”

The look on Joel’s face when Jai mentions their little sister tears my heart in two. Emotion after emotion plays over his features. I see fear first, followed by regret, anger, guilt, and finally, acceptance. I look down at my plate and swallow my food. So much for avoiding an argument.

“...she’s okay?” Joel asks.

The weak tone of his voice sends an arrow of emotion through my chest. Joel cares about his family. Surely Jai can see that.

“She’s fine. You should know she is in Italy…just in case you were going to take the time out of your busy schedule to wonder about her.”

“Jai...” I mumble, slipping my hand around his forearm as it lies against the benchtop.

The thick ropes of muscle that rest underneath his skin tighten and tense with the frustration he feels. Joel nods, running a tattooed hand over his face and pushing it through his black hair.

“Okay. I deserve that.”

“You deserve more than that.”

“Jai...” I try again, desperate for him to end it before it gets out of hand.

Both brothers are strong and both brothers aren’t afraid to fight. God knows if things were to ignite between them there’d be no lake house left. They’d destroy the place.

“I get it!” Joel booms, sending my heart into my throat. “I’m a shit brother. I abandoned my siblings when they needed me most and dumped all of my problems and responsibilities on to you. How many more times do you want me to apologize?”

Jai leaps to his feet, sending his wooden stool crashing to the ground. “That’s the thing,
asshole
. You haven’t apologized.”

Joel’s retort catches in his throat and realization flickers over his handsome features. Shocked, his lips part, expelling the shortest puff of air.

“Are you that messed up you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying anymore?”

“I’m sure I’ve said it...” He looks to me for backup and I shrug.

“Well…technically you’ve said it once, but it was hardly apologetic.” I say, avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry. Shit. What else do you want me to say?” His laryngeal prominence
bobs as he swallows his emotion. “I went in and I got distracted—so did you, Jai, so don’t give me that fucking look.”

Raising my hands, I slip off the stool and leave for the living room. “Don’t drag me into this.”

Every argument they pitch me against Monique and, quite frankly, it’s annoying. I drop onto the couch, a little depressed I abandoned my hot food on the bench.

“I got distracted?” Jai demands, slapping his palm against the wooden surface. “Bullshit. You’re here! I did what I fucking set out to do.”

“I have to do something!” Joel argues, his fierce glare fixated on Jai. “I can’t abandon her.”

“Why? You had no problem abandoning me and Jess.”

Disappointment smooths out Joel’s features. It’s in the furrow of his brow and the spasm of the muscles around his jaw. “I’d do it for you, little brother. I’d help you.”

“Don’t you put that shit on me. That’s not fair.”

Just as Joel turns away from Jai, there’s a knock at the door. Instinctively, my entire body tenses, my muscles burning with cramps. Jai and I exchange looks, the kind of look that says “
Are you expecting anybody?
”

I shake my head.

With an air of casualty, Joel pats up the hall toward the door. In the distance, I hear the deep murmur of voices and a distinct laugh. There’s only one person I knew that has a laugh so obnoxious and loud. The front door slams shut and the sound of heavy boots thump against the wooden floor boards. I lean forward as they file into the kitchen one by one. Ted’s in front carrying a football and wearing a light purple tee with black cargo shorts. Trailing miserably behind is Huss, draped in a pink polo and dark, denim jeans that bunch around his white shoes. Oh, fuck. I push myself to my feet.

“Kitten!” Ted cheers, stretching out his arm, pointing the end of his football at me.

I
really
hope he doesn’t expect me to catch that. Also, I’d really like the whole Kitten thing to stop now.

“It’s Emily.”

Huss waves. “Morning, Emma.”

I roll my eyes. It’s fucking pointless. They’re going to call me whatever the hell they like and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Unlike Ted, Huss doesn’t appear to be in the most cheerful mood. If he is, I sure as hell can’t tell underneath all the swelling. He’s covered in cuts, stitches, bruises and even has a shiny black cast for his broken arm. Poor guy. He’s been in better shape, that’s for sure.

“It’s Emil—” Forget it. It’s not like they give a shit anyway.

“Huss. Catch.” Ted lobs the football to Huss and it hits his broken arm before bouncing awkwardly into the kitchen.

“Ouch!” Huss growls, groaning so hard under his breath a vessel threatens to pop. “If you do that one more time asshole I’ll—”

His threat is cut off by a howl of laughter from Ted. “It’s just so funny. You should see your face.”

Stepping around them, Joel grabs the pan off the bench and slips it into the sink.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” I ask Ted, strolling back over to my plate.

He gives me a strange look as he reaches out and plucks a few straps of bacon from the pile. “Joel didn’t tell you?”

“Joel didn’t tell us what?” Jai asks before I get the chance.

Ted stuffs the belts of bacon into his mouth, purposely making it impossible for him to answer, and points at Joel who narrows his dark eyes at Ted. With a heavy exhale, Joel turns on the tap and leaves the gushing water to fill the sink.

“I’m paying them each fifty grand to help me get Monique out of Skull’s compound.” Joel tells us, leaning his hip against the edge of the bench. He nervously runs his hands over the back of his head as silence rears its ugly head and Ted reaches out with his slender fingers for more bacon.