Up to Me
Page 26

 M. Leighton

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“Oh God! That sounds dangerous.”
Gavin shrugs.  “He holds all the cards right now.”
“No, he doesn’t.  They still have Marissa.”
“Okay, he holds most of the cards right now.  If they don’t hand her over, he’ll give them the books.  They’ll be with Nash, who he’ll call in only if things get crazy.”
“So, he’s hoping to get away with the books, the video and Marissa?”
“Yeah.”
“And worst case scenario would be…?”
“That he has to give them the books as an act of good faith to get the girl.  But he’ll still have the video. And whatever help Greg called in along with Nash.”
“Greg?  Is that Cash’s father?”
“Yeah.  He’s a good man.”
I say nothing.  I still haven’t decided if I think Cash’s father is a good man or not.  At the moment, I’d be more inclined to say not.  He’s the reason we’re all in this mess to begin with. I’m sure he has some redeeming qualities; right now I just don’t see them.
“Have you known him long?”
“Yeah, we go way back.”
“I find that hard to believe. You can’t be that old.”
“I’m too hot to get old,” he declares with a cocky grin and a wink.  I roll my eyes and he laughs.  “Nah, I started very, very early.”
“Started what?”
He shrugs, but this time I think it’s because he doesn’t really want to answer, not because he’s nonchalant.
“For a few years I was hired out to do all kinds of…odd jobs.  But I can also fly planes and helicopters, which is how I met Greg.  And then Cash.”
I nod slowly.  “Odd jobs, huh?  So you’re in a similar…business?”
“Not really.  The work I did was dangerous and unsavory in a different way.  That’s why I got out.”
It almost seems scarier to think what kind of person I’m riding with because he’s so vague about what he does.  Or what he did.  And the way Cash talked about him, I can’t help but wonder if I’m sitting next to a felon or something.  Just because he’s not in jail doesn’t mean he’s not guilty; it just means he never got caught.
All of a sudden, I’m much less curious about…everything!  It seems that there’s nothing but darkness and disappointment everywhere I look.  For the first time in maybe ever, my mother’s guest room is looking like a little slice of heaven.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cash
Letting Olivia go with Gavin was much harder than I expected.  And now, as I guide my bike back toward the club, I keep thinking of what she looked like in my rear view mirror as I drove past her on the street.  Very upset.  She looked very, very upset.
I remind myself that Gavin is both trustworthy and capable.  Doubting my judgment at this point would be as counterproductive as it would be stupid.  There’s nothing I can do about it. It’s too late to make any big changes, especially ones that could risk Olivia.  My gut was to go with Gavin.  Now I have to trust it.  Period.
Pulling into my garage and seeing the door to my apartment open reminds me I’ve got more problems than just worrying about Gavin’s role in all this.
Nash.
I park the bike and walk in to find Nash in the bathroom shaving.  After rinsing his cheeks, he meets my eyes in the mirror. I’m glad to see the hair of his goatee intact; I don’t want him looking any more like me than he absolutely has to.  This could get too sticky otherwise. Plus, I just don’t like the guy. He grew into an even bigger asshole than he was when we were younger.
“Make yourself at home,” I bite sarcastically.
“Oh, don’t worry.  I did.”
I don’t even want to ask what that means. It’ll just make me mad, and for the next twelve hours or so, I need to focus.   And that doesn’t mean on my brother.
“If you need to get a couple hours of sleep or do any more cleaning up, I can give you the keys to the apartment up town and you can drive the car over there.”
“Trying to get rid of me so soon?”
“Actually, yeah. I am.”
“That’s not very brotherly of you.”
“Look man, you’re gonna have to leave the attitude at the door for a while.  I don’t have time for your mouth or your shit.  Just stick to the plan and leave me the hell alone otherwise.”
“Well, the plan includes a need for the video, which I’ve stashed in a safe place.  I might take you up on the offer of the car.  I don’t have one since I’ve been in exile for seven years.”
Again with the bitterness. I want to roll my eyes, but I grit my teeth and resist the urge.  Obviously one of us is going to have to be the cool-headed adult of the bunch.  And it sure as hell doesn’t look like it’s gonna be Nash.
I walk into the bedroom and open the top chest drawer and dig out my alternate set of keys.  “Take the Beamer.  The gold key is the one for the condo.”
I give him the address.  He raises his eyebrows and nods appreciatively, but he keeps his sarcasm to a minimum.  I’m glad about that.  Maybe I got through to him.
“Nice.”
“Maybe for a lawyer, but I prefer this place.”
He looks me in the eye, like he’s trying to determine if I’m lying.
“I can’t believe you did it.”
“Did what?”
“Finished school and went to college. And actually graduated and became a lawyer.”
I sift through his words for an underlying meaning, for derision or malice, but I find none. He just seems…surprised.
“It’s not like I enjoyed it.  That was always your thing, not mine.  But it’s what I had to do to help Dad. Or at least I thought it was.”
I have to work to keep the bitterness from my own tone. It still stings knowing how much they kept me in the dark, remembering all the sacrifices I made because I thought Dad needed my help.
“I guess neither of us turned out quite like we expected.”
“I suppose not.  I just hope, in some ways, we’re both better off for what we’ve done and the way things turned out. Maybe it was good for both of us.  I needed a little bit of you, I guess.”
Nash shrugs.  “Maybe I needed a little bit of you, too.  Just not this much.”
His smile seems genuine and it’s easier for me to return it than I would’ve thought, considering how things started out between us.
Maybe there’s hope after all.
I see Nash’s few possessions thrown over the bed.
“I’ll give you a minute to get your stuff together. I’ve gotta get something out of the car.”
That’s a lie. I actually have to get the books out of the safe and I don’t want him to see where I keep important things.  I still don’t fully trust my brother, so I consider the fib prudent and necessary.
He nods and I walk back out to the garage, closing the door behind me.
I cross to the hook racks and peg boards on the wall opposite the car.  There’s a small lever and hidden hinges on the second board. It opens silently to reveal a safe built into the wall.  I punch in the combination.  The click lets me know it’s ready.