Masterpiece (Adrenaline Series Book 3)

by Xavier Neal

“Thanks for that by the way.” Swirling the liquid around I ask, “So you've never hooked up with a McCoy?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not? Busy on Daniel's free days?”

  “Wow. How about because I don't wanna be a day of the week girl, but a tomorrow one?”

  Perplexed, I question, “A tomorrow girl?”

  “The one you always promise to see tomorrow and then do,” she explains as she fiddles with her curly hair. “Not sure that'll ever happen, but a girl can dream right?”

  Pushing the glass across the bar I say, “Don't give up on it. I never knew I needed a tomorrow girl until she fell into my lap.”

  Literally. Remember that? Fuck...seems like a life time ago.

  “Yeah well, I hope we can all be so lucky,” Azura coos. “Now go talk to your girl. And your brothers.”

  “Yeah.” I stand and pull out of my wallet. “I'm going to.”

  She points at me. “Don't even think about tipping me.”

  “But-”

  “Just...just knowing someone might get a happy ending is enough for me.”

  I smile and shrug. “You'll get yours.”

  There's a hum out of her but nothing else.

  “Hey, you're welcome around us any time by the way.”

  “Thanks,” she sighs before waving goodbye.

  You know, I like her too. Seems like good people, but do you get the feeling she's longing for one of my brothers? Right. But which one?

  The question oscillates in my brain as I walk out with my head down. Not paying attention to where I'm going has me bump hard right into someone.

  “Watch it fuck head,” the voice grunts. When my head pops up he sneers, “Fucking McCoy.”

  Why couldn't this asshole have been the one to fucking die? Why'd it have to be someone who fucking mattered? What a better world it would be with one less crooked politician's child.

  “Just can't stay out of my fucking way can you? You or that punk bitch cousin of yours.” Before I have the chance to say anything he smugly smirks. “Oh wait. He's dead now, so I guess it's just you.”

  My immediate reaction is to punch him in his fucking face. To drop him where he stands. Bash his brains out the back of his skull.

  Jail might be a safer place for me. Then again The Devil has contacts and reaches everywhere.

  As my fist clenches to strike, something catches my eye over his shoulder.

  Better yet. It might be safer for him.

  I step forward and make sure to keep my eyes locked on him, so his have to stay on mine. “Talk all the fucking shit you want about my family, but they'll never be the useless waste of space that is you and yours.” His eyebrows rise and I whisper, “Enjoy your night in jail.”

  “What?”

  Loudly I shout, “No I don't wanna buy drugs from you!” My voice immediately grabs the police officer's attention that was heading back for his vehicle. “No means no man! I don't!”

  Tyler starts to speak when the officer approaches. “Is there a problem here?”

  “This man tried to sell me drugs,” I innocently say stepping back from Tyler. “And I told him no.”

  The officer has a hand on his weapon. “Did you try to sell this man drugs?”

  If he uses it, all I have to say is 'thank you'. Thank you for finally serving and protecting me rather than hunting me.

  “No. Fuck no-”

  “Watch your language sir,” the officer snips.

  “No,” Tyler repeats. “I didn't try to sell him anything.”

  The officer glances at me and I give him a pleading look. “Sir, do you have any drugs on you?”

  “Of course not,” Tyler sighs. “Search me if you want.”

  Taking the invitation he says, “Could you please spread your legs and arms?” Tyler does as he's asked and the officer starts patting him down. It only takes a few before the officer stops at his pockets, and pulls out a small Zip-loc bag with pills inside.

  Remind me to thank Vinnie for those.

  He barks, “What are these?”

  “Those aren't mine!” Tyler screeches. “No fucking way!”

  “Sir, please turn around and place your hands behind your back,” the officer instructs tucking the drugs away safely. “You're being placed under arrest for possession of narcotics. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law...”

  “Fuck!” Tyler grumbles, following the directions. The officer continues his speech, placing a pair of cuffs tightly around his wrists. “Do you have any idea who my father is? Do you have any idea what he'll do to you for arresting me?”

  His words are ignored as the police officer pulls him towards his vehicle. Tyler's tantrum grows louder at the same time he's guided into the back seat. I turn on my heels and allowing myself to smile proudly at the service I just did.

  One more asshole off the streets and out of my face is a service. That felt much fucking better than beating the shit out of him. So much fucking better.

  Jovi

  “Thanks Hayli,” I sigh dropping the newly taped box beside the others close to my closet.

  Packing the things I use the least makes the most amount of sense. No need to be one of those last minute packers.

  “Yeah.” She lets down her hair that's been pinned up all day. “No problem. I mean...helping ship my best friend off isn't the ideal way I wanted to spend my day, but there are worse ways I suppose.”

  On a little giggle I shake my head. “Drama queen.”

  “Watch it before you're packing the next batch alone,” she threatens.

  She's full of shit. You know that right?

  The two of us exit my bedroom and start towards the stairs. “You sure you don't wanna grab dinner or something really fast?”

  “I'm sure,” Hayli replies. Quickly she drops her voice down to a whisper, “Besides I'm sure there's a street racer in mourning who is craving you for dinner.”

  I blush at the same time I smirk.

  Haven't seen him since we left yesterday and have barely had time to talk to him. Between car shopping that felt pointless, packing, and Hayli insisting I focus on her instead of my phone we've hardly even texted. No, he hasn't snapped back into his normal self quite yet, which is fine. He needs this time to mourn. I just...I don't know. I don't wanna lose him. I don't know if I can live without him. Scratch that. I know I can't.

  “I'm working tomorrow, but wanna do something Thursday?”

  Now would be a terrible time to tell her I'm getting married huh?

  “I think I have plans that day, but I'll double check.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We hug and she disappears out the front door right as my phone vibrates.

  Quickly I check the message.

  Fiance: FIL still home?

  Giggling at the shorthand I type back.

  Me: Yes. I'll let you know the minute he's gone.

  Fiance: Need you.

  Me: Need you too. Soon.

  Fiance: Not soon enough.

  A deep exhale leaves me and I smile softly.

  Looks like there's a touch of the old Merrick still in there.

  I head for the kitchen where I'm guessing Nadie is. Rounding the corner, I'm thankful to see her scraping cookies off a pan, a small burnt smell lingering in the room.

  At the sight of me she whines, “Why cookies? Why can't I ever bake them right?”

  “At least you can bake them,” I counter. “You've seen what happens when I try.”

  “Yeah.” A look of disgust on her face. “Your mother would weep at the sight of those things you have the nerve to call cookies.”

  The mentioning of my mother stings unexpectedly.

  Ever since Ben's funeral yesterday, I've been thinking back to hers. Wondering if she would approve of the woman I'm trying to become. Of Merrick. Of Nadie raising me. I wonder if she would loathe what my father's turned into like I am beginning to. I wonder if she would be upset he
didn't go after Nadie like he should've. For a good portion of the night that's all my brain could seem to wrap itself around. Needless to say I didn't get much rest.

  Nadie puts the spatula down. “You okay?”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Just a little tired. It's been a long few days.”

  “Why don't you take a minute and rest?”

  “Need to finish packing a couple things before I call it a day.” After she nods, I ask, “Hey, where are the photo albums? I was hoping to take a couple with me. Ya know, in case I get homesick.”

  Nadie's done a great job keeping actual albums as much as online ones. I guess that's her art craft. Ya know everyone has something. Even you. Even if you don't think you do.

  “Which ones? The ones with your mom or after her?”

  The question makes me shift uncomfortably. “Both?”

  “Photo albums with pictures after her are in the living room in the bottom drawer of the coffee table. Before her are in your father's office. Second book case, second shelf.”

  I hate how he does shit like that. Nadie doesn't deserve it. As much as I miss my mom and wonder what life would be like if she were still here, every now and again, she's not. I've accepted it. I've dealt with it. He needs to too. Not put up walls to keep Nadie at bay. To keep himself from moving on. To keep us all from moving on.

  “Thanks.”

  I turn my heels to exit when she questions, “You do know he's in there, right?”

  “Yeah...”

  “You ready for that?”

  With a shrug I answer, “As ready as I'm ever gonna be.”

  “I'm here for you Jo'.”

  You too? Thanks. Have I told you I appreciate that?

  Nervously I approach my dad's office door. Instead of taking the two steps back my gut tells me I should, I push forward and stroll into the room that's never felt warm.

  Today it feels extra chilly. Not quite arctic, but cold enough I feel I need a sweater. You got one I can borrow?

  To my left are the wooden bookshelves, I know I need to grab the photo album from. To the right a long leather couch and coffee table with files stacked on it. Right in front of me, two seats in front of a large cherry wood desk covered in papers with him hovering over it rather than sitting.

  Before I have the chance to ask about the photo albums, he snaps his head up from the photo he was staring at. His entire body seems to tense. Carefully he places the photo down and slides a hand in his pocket, eyes stuck on me.

  “Yes?”

  He really is almost always this impersonal. Well, that is of course unless he's making tyrant demands on how to conduct my life.

  “I just..I just came to grab a couple photo albums to take with me.”

  He nods. “Packing?”

  “Yes.”

  He nods again this time sliding his other hand into his pocket. “Is that what you and Hayli have done all day?”

  “That and argue over how to decorate my new room. I'm all for simple colors and she seems to think I need to be a little more adventurous.”

  He mumbles under his breath, “That's the last thing you need.”

  Oh look. He's ready to fight. Wish me luck.

  “Why? Because I was friends with Ben?”

  “Is that all you were?” The accusation reminds me of Tyler's.

  Scowling, I snap back, “Pretty sure I wasn't involved with him that way, but even if I was, that would've been my choice.”

  “No,” he quickly denies. “You don't get to make those types of choices Jo'.”

  “Who to date? I don't get to choose who I date?”

  “I don't want you dating.”

  “Well tough shit Dad!”

  Oh...Oh I could've said that better.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You don't get to pick who I date. Or who I fall in love with. Or my friends. I'm an adult.”

  “An adult who lies to her father?”

  “Who feels she has to!” I yell. “I have to walk on egg shells around you because I'm afraid that you're gonna lock me in this house and throw away the key! I have missed out on so much because I don't wanna hurt you or disappoint you or have to deal with the lengths you will go to to try to stop me from doing something you don't approve of!”

  On a long exhale he shakes his head. “I don't approve of things that can harm you. And drug dealing street racers fit into that category!”

  “And me having a car?”

  “There are so many accidents-”

  “And my dress being short-”

  “Rape statistics say-”

  “And my eating shellfish? Working a job in the evening?” His mouth moves but I cut him off. “There's always something to be afraid of and I'm tired of being afraid. I wanna live Dad. And as much as it kills me to say this, that's what I'm going to do. From this point forward, I am going to actually live my life.”

  He points a firm finger at me. “Not with trash like Ben.”

  “You didn't even know him!”

  “I know the case files on my desk. I know the crimes he's committed.”

  “He's so much more than a case file.”

  “And that's supposed to matter to me?”

  Cold blooded much?

  “Wow...”

  “He was a pain in my ass, Jovi. The laws he broke. The tax dollar he's cost. The lives he put at risk-”

  “He was a good person Dad. He had a good heart-”

  “I don't give a damn if he had the heart of a saint! He still chose to live above the law. He chose to put his selfish ways above those of this city and that is a problem.”

  “Kind of like you chose to put the needs of this city above those of your only daughter?”

  He looks wounded by the words, yet I don't regret them.

  They needed to be said.

  “Jo'-” His voice is cut off by his work phone.

  He hesitates to grab it, so I encourage. “Go ahead. Work always comes first.”

  On a short grunt he answers it. “Hello?”

  Knowing he's going to be a minute I lean against the edge of his desk moving the photos out of my way, so I don't bend them. In the process one in particular catches my eye.

  “No. He's in jail for a reason Jon,” my father grumbles turning his back to me, which is when I pull the photo closer. “I don't care. He needs to be there.”

  Cautiously I lift the photo. With a trembling bottom lip, I run my finger across it.

  “I will not let him out as a favor. Jon, has it occurred to you that maybe he should be behind bars? Maybe he'll learn a lesson for once. Maybe this will stick.” There's a muffled uproar on the other end of the phone before he lets out a deep sigh of surrender. “Yeah! Fine! Fine! I'll come in, but doesn't mean I'm letting Tyler go.” There's a few more mumbles before he hangs up and looks at me. “I have to go in.” When I don't reply he questions, “Something wrong Jo'?”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat I point to the photo. “That's a Lotus Elise.”

  His voice hardens. “How do you know that?”

  “I um...” Clearing my throat becomes difficult as I look up into his eyes. “We watched a movie with Ben one night and it had one of these in it.”

  “What was it called?”

  Taken off guard by the follow up question I shrug. “Adrenaline something. I don't remember the name.”

  “Those fucking movies are all the same,” my dad grumbles. “Always show how much 'fun' it is and never the actual lives that get lost during it. One of the many problems with those movies. Encouraging the youth that that lifestyle's acceptable. Encourag-”

  “This is a picture of Ghost,” the words clog my throat again.

  “Haunting me as always.”

  “Was this recent?”

  “Few weeks ago,” he denies. “I just got it a couple days ago. It's hard to tell that's him, but I know it is. I know that mask. I know his build.”

  So do I...

  “Last documented sighting. This one w
as only caught because someone was trying to snap the car and happened to get the tiniest glimpse of him as well. Doesn't do me much good, but more evidence is more evidence.” Reaching for his coat he sighs, “I have to go back into the office to meet with Jon. Looks like Tyler's been arrested and he wants a favor to get him out.”