Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I do, around eight. I’m about to get ready now. You need something?”
“Do you think you can drop me off at St. Mary’s Methodist on Ninth Street and Atlantic? They have meetings today up until noon.”
“No problem. I got you, man.” Wood paused, appearing slightly embarrassed. “You sure everything’s okay?”
“I’m good,” Rayne lied again, knowing what Wood was asking, and the honest answer was fuck yes. Hearing him and Trent making love this morning was too much. He needed to call his sponsor and get to a meeting fast. He opened his bedroom door, Rayne’s breath hitching as Trent stuck his head out of their bedroom door, his naked upper body half-exposed.
“Hersch, I need you to do me a favor. My dad needs a ride home, and Summer just called and asked me to come in early, so I don’t have time.”
“I got you. Whatever you need, babe,” Wood assured his partner.
Rayne slowly closed his bedroom door. A bittersweet knot of pain bulged in his chest as moisture gathered behind his closed lids, but he didn’t let the tears fall. Living with Wood and Trent proved more difficult than he’d thought, and staying with his step-uncle had been a different kind of hell altogether, but at least there was a lot less temptation there.
I’m not sure how long this living arrangement is going to work out either.
Chapter Three
Mike
“Manny, it’s about time you picked up. What the fuck is going on? Why am I still in jail?” Mike barked into the receiver of the prepay phone attached to the brick wall.
“Why are you in there? Let me see… it’s probably because you broke into our client’s house, gut-punched his grandson, and damaged property,” his friend droned.
“Manny,” Mike ground out through a tight jaw in an effort to keep his tone low. “Is there anything in the sound of my goddamn voice right now that indicates I’m in the mood for playing?”
Manny sighed, sounding exhausted. “I posted the bond and—”
“Bond! What happened to—?”
“Can you fuckin’ let me finish? I don’t have time for this shit either, Mike. I told you not to go into that house in the first place.”
“Not now, Man,” Mike warned, running his hand through his hair and cringing at the crud beneath his nails that was being ground into his scalp from his rough treatment. He’d been stuck in this shithole all night. He was cold, hungry, dirty… and most of all, he was mad.
“Jim is at Norfolk General Hospital, and since I’m not family, it took some maneuvering and Craig sweet-talking a couple of nurses at the front desk for me to get into his room.”
“Shit. Is he all right?” Mike asked first in concern for the old man who’d been one of his first clients to take a chance on his landscaping business.
“He’s fine. He had a small cardiac episode the other night, and they decided to keep him for observation. He said he forgot to call us.”
Mike exhaled. He really did like Jim Reynolds. He’d never judged Mike and his crew of misfits like so many others did. He would’ve felt horrible if anything had happened to him.
“I called the magistrate’s office, and when I was able to get someone on the damn line, Jim told them that it was all a misunderstanding and he had no intention of cooperating with the breaking and entering or the destruction of property charges… so that takes care of one problem.”
“Fuck me.”
“Yep. I had to post bond because the guy you leveled with one punch is proceeding with his charges of assault against you.”
“Assault! It was self-defense!” Mike felt his anger rise and bubble over like hot lava in his stomach as he flexed his right fist. “Oh, I haven’t assaulted that motherfucker yet. But he’s about to learn the difference real soon.”
“Mike! Leave it alone,” Manny ordered. “And I mean it. You’ve caused enough shit for me to deal with.”
Mike gritted his teeth but ultimately kept his mouth shut. Manny had been his voice of reason for over thirty years, and like always, he was right about this too. They didn’t need this squabble blowing up more and casting a negative shadow over their company when they’d just started to be considered a reputable business in the community, despite that it was headed up by two of the city’s most infamous ex-gangsters.
It’d taken a lot of convincing from Manny back then for Mike to get out of the motorcycle gang that’d been their only family since they were teenagers, but his best friend had started to make sense all those years ago. At the time, Manny had a new wife and a baby on the way, and Mike had a son, Bishop, who was serving time in prison. Mike had wanted Bishop to have a stable home and a positive role model for a parent when he was released. Even though he didn’t get out until age twenty-seven—it was never too late to try to be the father he should’ve been from the start.