Pawn (The Pawn Duet #2) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,32
do love her. I’m fucking in love with her.
I remember my earlier revelation with Thorne. It doesn’t matter that Mickey made her choice, because I plan on making another one for her.
“You got something you want to get off of your mind?” King asks, cocking an eyebrow that’s missing half the pigment on one side.
I run my hand through my hair and blow out a breath. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Talking’s never been my thing. I thought we’d go over a plan I have for the Reich. There’s been a development.”
King pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the bottom cabinet of one of the tool boxes and nods to the skull shot glasses on the coffee table. I retrieve two of them, and he fills both. We clink our glasses together before downing our shots. The liquid burns on the way down but not enough to burn out the longing that grows inside of me with each passing hour.
“Talkin’ ain’t never been my gig, either. I speak when I’ve got something to say, and usually, it’s only when I’m pissed. But with the kids and Ray, it’s different. It turns out if someone calls “Daddy” forty-five times in a row, they’ll still keep goin’ until you respond.” He smirks and pours two more shots. “What’s this plan of yours?”
I lay it out for him, and he nods. “It’s a solid plan. Complicated as fuck, but so is the situation.” His eyes meet mine, and one side of his mouth curls up in a knowing half-smile. “So, you’ve decided to claim her, after all. You realize you’re responsible for her now. As much as it means that we can’t lay a hand on her in any way, it also means that any actions of Mickey’s that affects us comes back on you. And you can’t take that shit back. You only get one claim.”
I nod because I know there’s no going back. I don’t want to go back. “I understand how it works. Mickey’s mine.”
King downs the next shot, and I follow his lead. “You know,” he starts, staring into his empty shot glass. “I get pissed off a lot when shit goes sideways, but that’s only because I have high expectations of the people I choose to surround myself with. You, included.”
I sigh. “Yeah, and I’ve been doing a lot of fucking up lately. I know.”
He sets down the glass. “You don’t think I’ve fucked up before?” He smirks. “There was a time when alls I did was fuck up. Especially, when I first started out. Hell, I went to the clink so many times I was starting to think they’d give me one of them frequent customer cards or some shit. I fucked up more shit than I got right.” He looks at a picture of his family on top of the tool box. “Even managed to get myself locked up for a few years. Got myself separated from the only thing that mattered at the time. My baby girl, Max.”
Max is the one that Darius tried to take from King through her birth mother all in the name of causing a rift between me and King. “I can’t imagine what it was like when she…when the shit hit the fan during the hurricane.”
“No, you can’t, but you will, someday. His voice changes from sad to determined. He points at my chest. “You gotta put that past you, and you gotta know that I give you shit because I see a lot of myself in you. The drive. The take no bullshit attitude. The fucking stare you give everyone when you know they’re full of shit.” He chuckles. “You wouldn’t be around if I didn’t want you around. I trust Nine, and I trust you. Try not to fuck it up again, but if you do, we’ll work it out. That’s what families do. Real fucking families. And it ain’t got shit to do with blood. Though, some of that gets spilled along the way. Especially around here.”
I appreciate his loyalty, but I also need him to know mine. “I’ll pay you back all of the money I owe you. I’m going to sell the shop.”
King frowns, and he lifts his glass again, gripping it so tight I’m surprised he doesn’t break it in his hand. “No, you fucking won’t. I got more money than I can bury. I lent that cash to you as an investment, and sometimes, investments don’t work out. You’ll pay