Chapter 6

SIX

I don’t know why I allow her to have such an effect on me. She means nothing to me. She is nothing to me. Still, the thought of her spreading her legs for my brother—or anyone else, for that matter—does things to me. Things that signal to my brain that I’m more jealous than I allow myself to admit. But accepting that would mean that I care, and caring for anything or anyone has never worked well for me.

Securing the roach between my lips, I draw out a much-needed hit. Allowing the smoke to lay stagnant in my mouth, so the weed can work its magic before I exhale, I skate my hands over to my back pocket, reaching for my phone. With the touch of the side button, the screen illuminates so the facial recognition can unlock it.

Immediately, anger threatens the high that is settling over my head, the unlocked screen taunting me with the open translator app I used to find out what my brother’s gem of a girlfriend called me this time.

Her sultry tone caresses my eardrums, replaying how good it felt to have my body towering over hers, with her eyes narrowing while she looked up at me, stubborn and unwilling to let up a goddamn inch. My fist tightens around the smooth edge of my phone harder feeling like it’s about to crush in my grip as I read the word on the screen once more. Asshole.

Being called an asshole is tame compared to the things that have been said to me for simply being Alistair Cromwell’s son. But it’s the way she said it, with lust coating her every word. Her tone, sensual and feminine, was laced with such rage, such annoyance, acting as if my presence in my own damn house was a hindrance to her. It makes me want her…badly. Even if it’s just to break her. Which would certainly be a challenge given her aptitude for being a feisty little thing, but fuck, would I welcome it.

Releasing the pent-up smoke, it draws a straight line between my parted lips, leaking into the night air. My body begins to vibrate, my high finally kicking in…this – the sweet buzz of being high – is my safe place. I’m used to not getting my way. Used to the anger that constantly riddles my veins. But when I’m high, it helps me forget all the reasons why I want to bash my head into a wall. It helps me numb, even momentarily, all the fucked-up things that make me who I am.

Another vibration buzzes against my skin.

Shaking my head, I snap out of it. I peer down at my phone. It’s my friend Maddox, one of the craziest motherfuckers I’ve met in my life, which is saying something considering the amount of crazy shit I’ve been forced to deal with given my father’s extensive record. But we met one day randomly at Oogie’s Ink. He was getting an upside down cross with a flower tattooed on his face – very fitting for him now that I’ve gotten to know him better – and I was getting the outline done of the St. Michael chest piece I have. We got to talking and been close ever since. And since he’s friends with one of the biggest drug dealers in the tri-state area, he’s helping me expand Cromwell Corp, since the way Brett’s running things, we’ll be in the negative by years end.

I open the message, remembering I was supposed to text him hours ago about the new shipment of fantasma–a new engineered drug that gives a clean high and is practically untraceable in the system–that Brett and I will now be distributing.

Maddox: Everything good? Haven’t heard from you.

My fingers pause above the touchscreen, my body denying me the ability to respond. Instead, I feel my neck turn as if I’m having an out of body experience, toward the window I was just looking at Sally through. Except now, all I can see from where I stand is the way her long black dress hugs her rounded ass as she reaches the top of the staircase.

My phone vibrates again in my hand, yanking me from yet another Sally induced distraction.

Maddox: ???

Me: Yeah, sorry. I got it. Will start tomorrow once I go over things with Brett.

Three dots fill the screen then vanish twice before Maddox replies.

Maddox: No need. I think you can handle it on your own this time…

My brow furrows. Maddox knows the system Brett and I have when it comes to the drug distribution portion of our business. Brett handles the finances and logistics while I handle the street.

Me: No shit, but we have a system.

Maddox: You can handle it. Boss prefers you go solo with this round.

Something feels off. Granted this is the first time we’re running product for the Moretti’s but I thought I made it clear that Brett would have to be in the know when I agreed to work with Carmine. As long as I’ve known the Moretti’s, Armando Moretti–Carmine’s father–and my dad have always been close, but as soon as Carmine started running Marked INC, he’s had it out for me. I’m surprised he even agreed to having me work with him. I’m sure our mutual friendship with Maddox played a role in that, but still.

Maddox: Hear me out.

Maddox: You want to get on Carmine’s good side…which again as your friend, you and I both know it’s in your best fucking interest that you do…it’s his way or no way

Real rich coming from Maddox Crane of all fucking people, who takes orders from no one except the chick he’s been hung up on forever that’s always stringing him along. But even my stubborn ass knows he has a point.

Me: Whatever, I will…for now.

Maddox: That’s a good boy =*P

Me: Fuck you

Maddox: You know you’re not my type. You haven’t killed enough. Up your roster then maybe we can talk…haha

Me: Whatever fuckface. Peace.

Maddox: Peace. I’ll call you tomorrow, we can talk more. Just got to the city.

I’m about to text him back to ask what’s up with the abrupt change in plans when the word city catches my eye. I don’t know if it’s the weed heightening my already mounting suspicions of Sally, but an idea strikes me, remembering that Maddox has a connection with a P.I. in the city. It’s a long shot, but it may be able to help me figure out what she’s hiding.

Me: Sounds good. You still talk to the P.I. in the city?

Maddox: He’s not a P.I. anymore but he still has connects. Why?

Me: He cool?

Maddox: I mean, he’s still friends with me even knowing my bullshit.

Me: I need you to have him run a name for me.

Maddox: You know I’m more than capable of getting you intel on anyone…

Tempting but no. Maddox and his taste for stalking isn’t how I want this to go. I just want info. If it comes down to it, I’ll be the one to take over when it comes to her. Not him.

Me: Not you. No offense.

Maddox: None taken…shoot.

Me: Sally Hardesty

Once more three dots fill the conversation then disappear before he responds.

Maddox: Umm like in Texas Chainsaw?

Me: No, that’s her name. See what you can get me on her.

Maddox: Really? Ok, I’ll see what I can do. Any other info you have on her?

Me: Blonde, drives a CRV.

Me: Oh and she has a coffin tattoo on her hand

Maddox: Sounds hot

Unfortunately.

Me: Yep

Maddox: Alright let me call Alex and see what I can do. I’ll be in touch.

Me: Thanks

I close out of our text, about to put my phone away when an incoming text from Brett drops on the notification bar. Rolling my eyes, I open his text.

Brett: Come upstairs when you’re done smoking. I forgot to give you something.

Me: Whatever it is, give it to me later.

Brett: Now.

Me: Fine, chill your balls. I’ll be up in a minute.