Wood (A True Lover's Story #2) - A.E. Via Page 0,107
said, slamming the glass down on top of the bar. Thankfully there were no customers on that side, but the bartender still took notice.
“All right. Cool.” Marcus eyed him again, smirking as if he found him amusing. An interesting toy to play with. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Trent. Mama’s long-lost son.”
Trent felt a twinge of guilt for not coming to see the woman that’d helped raise him when his own mother wanted nothing to do with him. “Heard what.”
“That she loved you harder than she loved any of her other boys, but it was never enough. And that when you got locked up you broke her heart,” Marcus said seriously as if he no longer needed to flirt after receiving Trent’s hard brush-off. “Then you just never came back, like a spoiled, unappreciative—”
“But he’s here now,” Mama said, coming through the set of doors like the queen she was. Marcus didn’t finish his insult. Instead he got up and placed a few bills in the tip jar. “I manage this place now. Come back anytime, Trent. Your name has always been on the VIP list.”
“My son is home,” Mama said, opening her arms the same way she used to, and Trent fell into the embrace, damn near weeping on her shoulder right there in the club. She looked as if she hadn’t aged a day since he’d last seen her almost six years ago. He squeezed her tightly, inhaling the scent of Southern comfort cooking and her lingering Chantilly perfume.
“I’m so sorry,” Trent said agonizingly. “I was ashamed.”
She leaned back and cupped his cheek. “If Miles could see you now,” she said softly, her gentle voice and faint Mississippi accent washing over him like a soothing balm. “Come on in the back, son. You hungry?”
Trent was healing already.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Wood
Wood was drinking his third cup of coffee when Mike came through his front door like a wrecking ball without so much as a tap first. Wood slowly lifted his head, ready to mount some kind of defense when his eyes caught the glint of metal in Mike’s right hand. Shit. Wood carefully got to his feet, keeping the dining table between them and his back to the wall.
Mike expertly flipped the switchblade over the back of his hand, snapping it open and pointing it in his direction. “I told you what I’d do if you hurt my boy, didn’t I.”
“Mike,” Wood warned. “Think about where I’ve been the last seventeen years. Do you really think I’m just gonna let you stick that blade inside of me?”
Mike stopped short, staring at Wood as if he was stupid. “Of course not. That’s why I brought backup.” More men filed into his house through the front and back doors. The same men from Mike and Manny’s concrete crew, the ones he’d worked with on a couple occasions. “Sorry it took me a little while, but Trent’s brothers insisted on coming.”
Wood sighed tiredly. It was almost two in the doggone morning, and he hadn’t heard from Trent once. No one had. Not Summer, not Edison, not Bishop. Wood didn’t have the time or the patience for this crap. He’d done a good job of keeping himself in control since he’d got out, but this was as close as he’d been to losing his mind since he’d been tossed in solitary for two weeks. He also hadn’t hurt anyone in that long.
“Where is he?” one of the younger guys asked, standing next a man that looked as if he was related to him. “How long has he been gone?”
At least someone was keeping their eye on the bigger picture. They could always kick his ass later; he wasn’t going anywhere. “Since about eleven thirty this morning.” Mike took a hostile step toward him, but Wood didn’t back down. “Someone from my past came to see me today, someone I wasn’t expecting, and Trent took it the wrong way and stormed off.”
“Wow.” Mike shook his head, his knife still out. “So he mistook finding you with another man’s calves on your damn shoulders?”
If Wood could strangle Mike with a look, he would’ve. “He didn’t catch me doing a damn thing. I would never cheat on him. Look!” Wood barked. “There’s no time for this! Now Mike, you know him better than anyone. Where in hell would he go? What’s his favorite hotel? A place he goes to sit and think? Or does he have any other brothers I don’t know about?”