could get away with almost anything and still have mobs clamoring to be at his side—well, almost anything. Like he’d said in Spain, if they deemed him a terrorist, nothing would save him from the backlash.
My stomach turned, thinking of the stash of rocket launchers in the secret compartment of the Ada Mae. They’d be gone today, and then I could put more space between Armaud Racing and my FBI activities.
Two of my phones were jangling in the pocket of the sweatshirt I’d thrown on to purposely hide the fact I was carrying them. I gave a wave to the crowd before going into the yacht club and heading to an unused conference room.
I pulled out the phones and saw Truck’s message first.
TRUCK: Damn. Your head will never fit in a doorway again.
It was accompanied by a picture of him, Jersey, and Nell, all smiling. Nell was holding a paper with a childishly drawn boat and stick figure, and above it, someone had helped her spell the word congratulations. It was the cutest damn thing I’d seen in a long time.
TRUCK: I’m really proud of you.
I swallowed hard.
I hit the call button, and Truck picked up right away. “Congratulations, Daws.”
“Thanks, man,” I said with a lob of emotions stuck in my throat.
“Are you crying? Dawson Langley is crying.”
“I’m not crying,” I croaked out.
“When the guys on my crew act all jealous, I can tell them you wimped out and cried like a baby to ease their minds,” he teased.
“I’m not fucking crying. You’re the one that cries at big events,” I laughed.
“You wait. If you’re crying now, you’ll be sobbing when it comes to weddings and babies,” he said with his own chuckle.
He’d sobbed at the vow renewal he and Jersey had done on their third wedding anniversary. When they’d actually gotten hitched, it had been in a judge’s office for fake reasons, and they’d only fallen in love for real afterward. When Nell had been born, he’d cried more tears than I’d ever seen my brother cry.
Thoughts of weddings and babies brought me back to the woman waiting for me in New London, the one with purple highlights, and lilac-colored eyes, and a scent that had been burned into my memory for half a decade.
“Hey, I’m heading back to New London tonight,” I said, trying to figure out what to say. What to ask. How to feel out any opinions he might have regarding Violet and me. Violet had said Jersey had pretty much given her approval, but that wasn’t my brother.
“You hurt her, and I’ll choose them over you,” Truck said in a way that let me know he and Jersey had obviously discussed it. His voice was all tease, but I also heard the warning. Don’t fuck it up.
What would he do if he knew I’d sent her into a Kyōdaina den to retrieve Jada?
“Violet…she’s…” I trailed off. What could I say?
Truck burst into laughter. “Fucking cry baby.”
I couldn’t hold back the smile if I tried. “I think you need to wish me luck again.”
Truck got quiet. “Seriously, Daws. No luck needed. I think Jers and I always knew this day would come, but I mean it when I say you have to be sure. You can’t play around and walk away. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Not after all this time.”
“It kind of hurts that you think I’d screw around with her,” I told him honestly.
“I know you love her. You just haven’t ever stayed long in one place, and I’m not sure what that means for either of you.”
I did love her. It wasn’t a surprise or a sudden notion. It had been there for longer than was wise for it to have stayed. But I also had never really thought I’d have the chance to actually show her that love, to say it with the real meaning behind it and not the careless toss of friendship.
“I’ve lived in New London for five years,” I said. “That’s as long as you’ve been in San Francisco.”
“But how many days of each year are you really there? And what would that mean for you and her and any relationship you might start?” Truck was right. I wasn’t sure love would be enough to get us over the humps standing in our way.
“We haven’t even had a chance to talk about it. We’ve barely shared a―”
“Nope,” he cut me off. “Don’t even. I can’t. She’s like a little sister. It’s weird enough with you being my brother